32 



RECREATION. 



Now Ah'm begin to rile it op an Ah'm git 

 my wife for come out an go on dat hexcur- 

 sion wit me, an I ax heem to breeng his 

 beg apron for trow on dat quodruped when 

 we get heem. But dat hen she was awful 

 scare an me I cant get more close den 4 rod 

 to dat. So I'm yell to my boy to let him 

 go his dog and de fun begin. Little Jo he 

 follow his dog an Ah'm go nex myself an 

 behin' me ron my ole woman wit his apron 

 all ready. Dat hen he aim strait for de 

 cord hood pile. He fin' plentee hole dar. 

 Every body cheat me when I bot dat. 

 So he crawl trou dar an my dog he have 

 no trobble for follow him an tak a nip 

 hevery chance he git. An my boy he gone 

 tro de same hole an me too by gar an my 

 hole woman he's got bout haff way, and she 

 can't. 



When shes try for git back she can't too 

 an me I can only catch hold his feets an 

 pull it out or move de pile so I do dat way. 

 But we get close on dat hen an I notis he's 

 begin to wobble when he ron an I kno lies 

 mos done, for Ah'm chase good many hen 

 when Ah'm small boy. So I'm call for tro 

 de apron on hees head — (he's got no tail 

 now) — an soon he's give op de race an we 

 take im. 



Whew dat was more hard work dan saw 

 hood. Now when Maam Antoine see de 

 keg nail an de hole lot haig — shes mak ob- 

 jecktion. Shes tink tirteen is plentee an 

 she can sell de ress tarn shes pass on de 

 citee. But me I'm kno better. Tirteen was 

 a ver onlocky nomber. One tarn im dig tir- 

 teen potato on one hill an fore noon nex 

 day im loss my jacknife. An one tarn 

 Ah'm set tirteen trap for the muskrat wen 



I'm camp wit Jo Gosela an I'm not ever 

 fin only leven. Nodder tarn was when I'm 

 tak a job for pile slash. I will never for- 

 get dat for I finish in jus tirteen day an 

 bagosh I'm hev addition on ma familee fore 

 is gone one year. So I'm tole my ole lady 

 I'm not low no change. 



Den I'm put him dose Biddy on hees ness 

 an tell him I'm sorry for him be confine so 

 long on his job, but when hes hear tree 

 four dozen shicken peep he will feel well 

 compensate. But he was mad an will not 

 sit down an I was 'bliged for tak string an 

 tie him on de kag. Den I tell him, "What 

 now you can do?" "Spose you git more 

 brain I do aint it?" An dat ole fool he 

 stan dar an go Kr-e-a-w, Kr-e-a-w, 

 Kre-e--a-w, jus lak he do when weazle gon 

 catch heem on hes roost when hes gon 

 sleep. An fore he will sit down I am 'blige 

 for tak a barrel an turn him over dat keg 

 nail and put beeg stone on top — I will show 

 dat hen feller I kno more he do enyway. 



Hes bin sit now for 10 day an he git on 

 ver content. Yesterday I'm gon broke one 

 haig an see if hes mos donne. I'm not gone 

 way from home'moch more for I'm hexpect 

 hevery day. Now spose you help me for 

 mak good sale for dat an put notis on de 

 Recreation. Ah'm glad. An lass fall when 

 he git ripe I will sell it dose chick just so 

 fass as I can tweest his neck, an I will feel 

 moch accommodate to you. 



NOTIS. 

 For sell it — Tirty five schicken ; Tirteen 

 rooster and twenty-five pullit an 1 hen — all 

 good one. 50 cent a piece or dollar an half 

 for 2. 



A KENTUCKY HOG IN MICHIGAN. 



FRANK OUERBACHER. 



A subscriber sent me a clipping from a 

 folder of the Pere Marquette Railroad, 

 showing a picture of 48 bass caught by 

 one Ouerbacker. Inquiry into the matter 

 resulted in the following letter. 



In answer to your question will state 

 that 48 small mouth black bass were caught 

 at Cunningham's lake, 4 miles from Charle- 

 voix, Mich,, between 5 o'clock and dusk 

 in the evening and 6 and 9 in the morning. 

 At another time at same lake, between 5 

 and 10 a. m. I got 233 of the same kind of 

 fish. They weigh one to 5 pounds. 



F. S. Ouerbacker, Louisville, Ky. 



You are therefore registered in the swine 

 book is fish hog number 1,051. — Editor. 



Hicks : Saw you went home with Sting- 

 iman for lunch to-day. What did you get? 



Wicks : An appetite for dinner. — Phila- 

 delphia Public Ledger. 



