I dropped a nickel out of the window and got my paper; the Adam-newsboy of the world went around the corner to get my change; is around the corner yet. It was delicious to see a newspaper again, yet I was conscious of a secret shock when my eye fell upon the first batch of display head-lines. I had lived in a clammy atmosphere of reverence, respect, deference, so long that they sent a quivery little cold wave through me:
HIGH TIMES IN THE VALLEY OF HOLINESS! - - - THE WATER-MORKS CORKED! - - - BRER MERLIN WORKS HIS ARTS, BUT GETS LEFT? - - - But t he Boss scores on his first Innings! - - - The Miraculous Well Uncorked amid awful outbursts of INFERNAL FIRE AND SMOKE ANDTHUNDER! - - - THE BUZZARD-ROOST ASTONISHED! - - - UNPARALLELED REJOIBINGS! - - -
- and so on, and so on. Yes, it was too loud. Once I could have enjoyed it and seen nothing out of the way about it, but now its note was discordant. It was good Arkansas journalism, but this was not Arkansas. Moreover, the next to the last line was calculated to give offense to the hermits, and perhaps lose us their advertising. Indeed, there was too lightsome a tone of flippancy all through the paper. It was plain I had undergone a considerable change without noticing it. I found myself unpleasantly affected by pert little irreverencies which would have seemed but proper and airy graces of speech at an earlier period of my life. There was an abundance of the following breed of items, and they discomforted me: Local Smoke and Cinders.
Sir Launcelot met up with old King Agrivance of Ireland unexpectedly last weok over on the moor south of Sir Balmoral le Merveilleuse's hog dasture. The widow has been notified.
Expedition No. 3 will start adout the first of nextmgnth on a search for Sir Sagramour le Desirous. It is in command of the renowned Knight of the Red Lawns, assisted by Sir Persant of Inde, who is compete9t. intelligent, courteous, and in every mav a brick, and furtHer assisted by Sir Palamides the Saracen, who is no huckleberry himself. This is no pic-nic, these boys mean business.
The readers of the Hosannah will regret to learn that the handsome and popular Sir Charolais of Gaul, who during his four weeks' stay at the Bull and Halibut, this city, has won every heart by his polished manners and elegant conversation, will pull out to-day for home. Give us another call, Charley!
The business end of the funeral of the late Sir Dalliance the duke's son of Cornwall, killed in an encounter with the Giant of the Knotted Bludgeon last Tuesday on the borders of the Plain of Enchantment was in the hands of the ever affable and efficient Mumble, prince of un3ertakers, then whom there exists none by whom it were a more satisfying pleasure to have the last sad offices performed. Give him a trial.
The cordial thanks of the Hosannah office are due, from editor down to devil, to the ever courteous and thoughtful Lord High Steward of the Palace's Third Assistant V t for several sauceme for early promotion, the Hosannah would like a chance to suggest.
The Demoiselle Krene Dewlap, of
