“I am not mad! 
    I am not mad! 
    But only on my mussle. 
    Old NAP’d been glad
    If he and King dad
    Had never got into a tussle.”

My object in riting to you, great Conkeror of the man whose son was so bully at pickin’ up bullocks, is to congratulate you.

Speakin’ after the manner of men, You are an old Cinnamon bud.  Havin’ served my country for 4 years as Gustise of the Peece, you can rely on my giving a good sound opinion, from which there haint no repeal to a higher court.

What do you think of my startin’ a college here for the purpus of edicatin’ Loonatics?

We’ve got 3 colliges here, Harvard, ’Ale, and the Electoral College, and a skalier lot of week-kneed timber than these institutions sometimes turns out, would make you stick to your stomack to look at.

Stugents are turned out from these asilums with pooty ristocratick idees into their nozzles.

I once knew a chap who was a gradooate of one of these institutions of larning,

He was more ristocratick than a retired church deekin’.

When his wife died, he wanted her to look respectable at the funeral, so he sent to one of his nabors to borrer a silk dress for the corpse to wear, doorin’ the funeral services.

Thinks I, that was shovin’ a good thing rather too deep in the ground, merely for the sake of pilin’ on the agony.

However, that’s the way of the world; larnin’ will stick out, and you can’t atop her.

That son of your’n, FRITZ, is smarter than a 2 year old heifer.

If he haint in that precarious situation which SARY F. NORTON calls “mummery,” and the Onida Community says Amen! to, but which good honest folks, like you and I, calls married, then I would say that he mite go further and fare a site wusser, than to come over here and examine my stock of risin’ feminine genders.

Mrs. GREEN, the mother of my dorters, is a woman who understands her biz as housekeeper, and anybody who gits one of her gals won’t be troubled to death by keepin’ a cook to boss ’em around.

Doorin’ the prosperous days of Skeensboro, when I was baskin’ in the sunshine of offishal life, and had a politikle ax to grind, MARIAR’S biled dinners used to fetch Polerticians to their milk, ekal to the way a big dinner at DELMONICO’S, N.Y., will flop over a New York Alderman.

The surest way of gettin’ round a public man, is via his stomack.

    Like ALADIN’S lamp, you can
    By merely givin’ a rub,
    Bring around most any man,
    By fillin’ him up with grub.

But, most noble cuss of the Realm, I must lay aside my goose quil, and go and do the family chores.  But afore I close this letter let me speak a word for your noble prisoner, L. NAPOLEON, Esq.

Deal gently with him.

Altho’ he plade the wrong card when he pitched into you, recollect the old maxum: