We got warning reglar
enuff, but we still thort that somethink might turn up in our fever.
However, when the day cum that we was to go, it fell upon us like a
thunderboat. You can't imagine the kunfewshion we was all threw
into--every body packing up their little afares, and rummidging about for
any trifele that wasn't worth leaving behind. The sarvunts as is cum in
upon us is a nice sett; they have been a long wile trying after our
places, and at last they have suckseeded in underminding us; but it's my
oppinion they'll never be able to get through the work of the house;--all
they cares for is the vails and purkussites. I forgot to menshun that they
hadn't the decency to wait till we was off the peremasses, wich I bleave
is the _etticat_ in sich cases, but rushed in on last Friday, and tuck
possession of all our plaices before we had left the concirn. I leave you
to judge by this what a hurry they was to get in. There's one comfurt,
however, that is--we've left things in sich a mess in the howse, that I
don't think they'll ever be able to set them to rites again. This is all
at present from your afflickted friend,
JOHN THE FOOTMAN.
* * * * *
"I declare I never knew a _flatter_ companion than yourself," said Tom of
Finsbury, the other evening, to the lion of Lambeth.
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