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thing was to get booted, I succeeded. It cost me nineteen dollars. I'd willingly return the compliment for nothing. At last my boots were finished, and I went into them right and left; at least, I tried so to do. With every nerve flashing lightning, I pulled and tugged most thrillingly, but in vain. "There's no putting my foot in it," says I. "Give one more try," says he. Although almost tried out, I generously gave one more. I placed the bootmaker's awl in one strap, and his last-hook in the other, and with "two roses" mantling my cheeks, postured for the contest. I tried the heeling process, and earnestly endeavored to toe the mark; but to successfully start the thing on foot was a bootless effort. Then I slumberously gravitated, and dreamed thus:-- Old "LEATHERBRAINS" in SATAN'S livery, producing a hammer from a carpet-bag (he was a carpet-bagger), proceeded to shape my feet, and fill them with shoe-pegs. My nap was ruffled, and not to be continued under those circumstances, so I wisely concluded it. "They're on!" says the bootmaker. And a tight on it was, excruciatingly so. I suspected at the time that I had been put to sleep by chloroform, but I afterward remembered that a feeble youth was reading aloud from the Special Cable Dispatches of the _Tribune._ My feelings centred in those boots, tears filled my eyes, and I was dumb with emotion, but quickly reviving, I slaked the cordwainer with a flood of rabid eloquence. The cowering wretch suggested that they would stretch. He lied, the villain, he lied, they shrank. However, "in verdure clad," I was persuaded into wearing them, and stiffly sidled off, a badgered biped, my head swinging round the circle, and my voice hanging on the verge of profanity all the way. As fit boots they were a most successful failure. I gave them to the office boy; but the crutches I afterward bought him cost me twenty-seven dollars. Henceforth I shall take my cue from JOHN CHINAMAN, and encase my understanding in wood. Yours calmly, VICTOR KING. * * * * * Recognized at Last. A recent telegram from London says:-- "The Prussian hussars rode down and out to pieces a regiment of marine infantry." Hooray! Cheer, boys, cheer! The mythical Horse-Marines are thus at last recognized as an accomplished fact. * * * * * "As I was going to St. Ives." At St. Ives, Huntingdonshir
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