I thank the Lord i ain’t one ov thoze, i don’t luv a fly enuff, tew leave mi vittles, and fall down flatt on mi stummuk, and worship them, but a fly may cum and sit on mi noze, all day, and chaw hiz cud in silence, if he will only sit still. Flys tickle me, but they don’t make me sware, it takes a bedd bug, at the hollow ov night, a mean, loafing bed bugg, who steals out ov a krack in the wall, az silently az the swet on a dog’s noze, and then creeps az soft az a shadder, on tew mi tenderest spot, and begins tew bore for my ile, it takes one ov theze foul fiends ov blood, and midnite, tew make me sware, a word ov two sillables. A fly, the dear, little, social innocent, kant make me sware, not even an abreviated dam. I dispize enny men who sware, it iz not only wicked, but always smells ov whiskey. This essa, on the little fly, who visit us, in the spring ov the year, just az they am, will not interest the exceeding literary, or thoze who think they hav discovered poetry in their sile, it takes the essa on the life, and deth, ov an orphan rosebud, or the golden sheen ov a sassy moonbeam, dancing in a budoir tew the dreams ov a restive beauty, it takes sumthing ov this breed, tew fetch them. THE CROW. Next to the monkey, the crow haz the most deviltry to spare. They are born verry wild, but kan be tamed az eazy az the goat kan, but a tame crow iz aktually wuss than a sore thumb. If thare iz enny thing about the house that they kant git into, it iz bekause the thing ain’t big enuff. I had rather watch a distrikt skool than one tame crow. Crows live on what they kan steal, and they will steal enny thing that aint tied down. They are fond ov meat vittles, and are the first tew hold an inquest over a departed horse, or a still sheep. They are a fine bird tew hunt, but a hard one tew kill; they kan see you 2 miles first, and will smell a gun right through the side ov a mountain. They are not songstirs, altho they hav a good voice to cultivate, but what they do sing, they seem to understand thoroughly; long praktiss has made them perfekt. The crow iz a tuff bird, and kan stand the heat like a blacksmith, and the cold like a stun wall. They bild their nest among a tree, and lay twice, and both eggs would hatch out if they was laid in a snow bank,--thare aint no such thing as stopping a young crow. Crows are very lengthy; i beleave they live always i never knu one to die a natral deth, and don’t believe they kno how. They are alwus thin in flesh, and are like an injun rubber shew, poor inside and out. They are not considered fine eating, altho i hav read sumwhare ov biled crow, but still i never heard ov the same man hankering for sum biled crow 2 times. This essa on the crow is copied from natur, and if it is true i aint tew blame for it; natur made the crow, i didn’t; if i had i would hav made her more honest and not quite so tuff. THE BUMBLE BEE. The Bumble Bee is one ov natur’s sekrets.