I never kan eradicate holy from mi memry the sound ov the first gong I ever herd—i was setting on the frunt stupe ov a tavern in the sitty ov Bufferlo, pensively a smokin.

The sun was a goin tu bed, and the heavens fur and nere was blushing at the purformanse.

The Eri kanall with its goldin waters was on its windin wa tu albany, and i was perusin the line botes, a flotin by, and thinkin ov Italy, (whare i used tu live,) and her gondolers, and gallus wimmin.

Mi entire sole was, as it ware in a swet, i wanted tu climb, i felt grate, i aktually grew.

Thar ar things in this life tu big tu be trifled with, thar ar times when a man brakes luce from hisself, when he sees speerits, when he kan almost tuch the moon, and feels as tho he kud fill both hands with the stars ov heavin and almost sware he was a bank president.

Thats what ailed me.

But the korse ov tru luv never did run smoove, (this iz Shakesperes opinion too, i and he often think thru one quill) just az i was doing my best, ... dummer, dummer, spat, bang, beller, crash, roar, ram, dummer, dummer, whang, rip, rare rally, dummer dummer, dummer dum, ... with one tremenjis jump, i struck the senter ov the side walk, with anuther i kleared the gutter and with anuther, i stud in the middle ov the strets snorting like a injin poney, at a band ov musik; i gazed in wilde dispare at the tavern stand, mi harte swelled up as big as an out door oven, mi teeth were as luce as a string ov prairy beads.

I thout all the crokery in the tavern stand had fell down, i thout ov fenomenoms, i thought ov gabrel and his horn.

I was just on the pint ov thinking ov sumthing else when the landlord cum out to the frunt stupe ov the tavern stand holding by a string the bottom ov an old brass kittle.

He called me gentla with his hand i went slola and sadla tu 370 him, he calmed mi feres, he ced it was a gong; i saw the cussed thing, he ced supper was reddy, he axed me if i would hav black or green tea and i ced i would.