The Question Settled

"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," digni iedly 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.