172 AN AMERICAN FARMER IN ENGLAND. 



&quot; No, no ; I ll tell you where tis tarnal world it s the 

 kentry what the coves in Astraly cuts to wen the Kangarwoos 

 gets short and the gin-trees gives out and they s ard up.&quot; 



&quot; Kangurerhoos what s them ?&quot; 



&quot; Kind of fish as is covered with feathers stead o scales.&quot; 



. &quot; I know it fact I tell you, pon my honour needn t laugh 



I see a sailor as ad a vestcoat made on t, short vethers 



like spangled welwet, black and goold, regular ristocratic 



stunnenest thing you ever see.&quot; 



&quot; Well, what s a gin-tree 1 that bangs me.&quot; 



&quot; I know there is a big tree wot runs gin wen yer tap 

 her and there s a bread-tree, too &quot; 



&quot; What bears fresh kortern loavs erry morning.&quot; 



&quot; Hurray for Polytechny ! Ain t they all sliced and but 

 tered r 



&quot; In course they is, and ven you shakes em off, the skins 

 cracks open, and they all vails buttered side up coz vy? 

 Vy the trees is werry igh and the buttered side s the lightest 

 to be sure.&quot; 



&quot; Hi ! that s the place for this chile I m bound to 

 over the seas for to go only waitin for an act of Parlia 

 ment, and wen I get there hi ! Buffalo gals /&quot; 



&quot; When he gets there you know what he ll do 1 When 

 he comes to the gin trees he ll treat the company. First 

 time in his life. Ha ! ha !&quot; 



And with such constantly combining streams a flood of 

 original information and entertainment was poured out to us 

 until we reached the little station about nine miles out of 

 London, to which we had taken tickets. 



