If i could hav mi way, i would change all the human beings now on the face ov the earth back into babys at once, and keep them thare, and make this footstool one grand nussery; but what i should do for wet nusses i don’t kno, nor don’t care. I would like tew have 15 babys now on mi lap, and mi lap ain’t the handyest lap in the world for babys, neither. My lap iz long enuff, but not the widest kind ov a lap. I am a good deal ov a man, but i konsist ov length principally, and when i make a lap ov miself, it iz not a mattrass, but more like a couple ov rails with a jint in them. I can hold more babys in mi lap at once, than any man in Amerika, without spilling one, but it hurts the babys. I never saw a baby in mi life that i didn’t want tew kiss; i am wuss than an old maid in this respekt. I hav seen babys that i hav refused tew kiss untill they had been washt; but the baby want tew blame for this, neither waz i. Thare are folks in this world who say they don’t luv babys, but yu kan depend upon it, when they waz babys sumboddy loved them. Babys luv me, too. I kan take them out ov their mothers’ arms just az eazy az i kan an unfleged bird out ov hiz nest. They luv me bekauze i luv them. And here let me say, for the comfort and consolashun ov all mothers, that whenever they see me on the cars or on the steambote, out ov a job they needn’t hesitate a minnit tew drop a clean, fat baby into mi lap; i will hold it, and kiss it, and be thankful besides. Perhaps thare iz people who don’t envy me all this, but it iz one ov the sharp-cut, well-defined joys ov mi life, mi love for babys and their love for me. Perhaps thare iz people who will call it a weakness, i don’t care what they call it, bring on the babys. Unkle Josh haz always a kind word and a kiss for the babys. I love babys for the truth thare iz in them, i aint afraid their kiss will betray me, their iz no frauds, ded beats nor counterfits among them. I wish i was a baby (not only once more) but forever-more. “THE CRAB.” Natur is fond ov a joke. She must have felt full ov fun, when she made a soft shell crab. The strongest emotion the crab haz iz tew bite. They aint afrade tew bite a sawlog, or a black bear. They are born in the water, but they kan live out doors on the land as long az they kan find ennything tew bite. They hav several leggs, which are aul lokated on the starboard side ov their person. Crabs liv under cover, like the mud turtles, but they move evry fust ov May, into a new one. They are sed tew be good eating, but you wouldn’t think so tew stand and look at them; it would bother a stranger tew tell where tew begin; it would be a good deal like trying tew make a sudden dinner out ov a kross kut saw.