' That, I
believe, is Scripture, though in what chapter or book, or whether it
be correctly quoted, I can't possibly say. However, it behoves me to
write a letter to a young woman of the name of E., with whom I was
once acquainted, 'in life's morning march, when my spirit was young.'
This young woman wished me to write to her some time since, though I
have nothing to say--I e'en put it off, day by day, till at last,
fearing that she will 'curse me by her gods,' I feel constrained to
sit down and tack a few lines together, which she may call a letter or
not as she pleases. Now if the young woman expects sense in this
production, she will find herself miserably disappointed. I shall
dress her a dish of salmagundi--I shall cook a hash--compound a
stew--toss up an _omelette soufflee a la Francaise_, and send it her
with my respects. The wind, which is very high up in our hills of
Judea, though, I suppose, down in the Philistine flats of B. parish it
is nothing to speak of, has produced the same effects on the contents
of my knowledge-box that a quaigh of usquebaugh does upon those of
most other bipeds. I see everything _couleur de rose_, and am
strongly inclined to dance a jig, if I knew how. I think I must
partake of the nature of a pig or an ass--both which animals are
strongly affected by a high wind.
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