My Tongue Speak What My Heart Thinks.

The Enemy Fought With Savage Fury, And Met Death With All Its Horrors, Without Shrinking Or Complaining: Not One Asked To Be Spared, But Fought As Long As They Could Stand Or Sit.

It Is Quite Possible That Someone Is Insane And They Think They Have A Chance. Not Insane In The Clinical Sense, But They May Have Such A Strong Political Ambition That They Blind Themselves To Reality.

Fame Is Like A Shaved Pig With A Greased Tail, And It Is Only After It Has Slipped Through The Hands Of Some Thousands, That Some Fellow, By Mere Chance, Holds On To It!

Thare Is No Chance Of Hurrying Bussiness Here Like In The Legeslature Of A State Thare Is Such A Desposition Here To Show Eloquence That This Will Be A Long Session And Do No Good.

Sorrow, It Is Said, Will Make Even An Oyster Feel Poetical. I Never Tried My Hand At That Sort Of Writing But On This Particular Occasion Such Was My State Of Feeling, That I Began To Fancy Myself Inspired; So I Took Pen In Hand, And As Usual I Went Ahead.