The Question Settled
by
“Doctor” Gumbo, who “does business” somewhere along shore, met “Prof.” White,–a gemman, whose complexion is four shades darker than the famed ace of spades,–a few evenings since, in front of the Blade office, and after the usual formalities of greeting, says the doctor–
“What you tink, sah, oh dat Lobes question, what dey’s makin’ sich a debbil ob a talk about in de papers?”
“Well,” dignifiedly answered the professor of polish-on boots, “it’s my ‘ticular opinion, sah, dat dat Lopes got into de wrong pew, brudder Gumbo, when he went down to Cuber for his healf!”
“Pshaw! sah, I’se talkin’ about de gwynna (guano) question, I is.”
“Well, doctor,” said the professor, “I’se not posted up on de goanna question, no how; but, when you comes to de Cuber, or de best mode ob applyin’ de principle ob liquid blackin’ to de rale fuss-rate calfskin, I’se dar! “
“O! oh!” grunts Gumbo; “professor, you’se great on de natural principles ob de chemical skyence, I see; but lord honey, I doos pity your ignorance on jography questions. So, take care ob yourself, ole nigger–yaw! yaw!” and they parted with the formality of two Websters, and half a dozen common-sized dignitaries of the nation thrown in.