The Charleston daily news. [volume] (Charleston, S.C.) 1865-1873, 1866-07-18
"IIot" by Hot Cookies.


Hot! should think 30; hot as
Stop, stopl Don't talk of foreign countries.
But look at me- sec me melting away in streams, n
and no one to tell my friends. Won't some one
dam these waters of perepiration?
You melting, is it2 just feel O. me; coat soaked
into nv shoulders; pants melted into my loins and
boy another bucket hore between my eyes: W
don't wish was souse, or pickle, or meTmaidii
Here's my hand on those sentiments. NO take 1
you shut off all the wind. Trouble you for my fan
Oh, excuse me, you're using it. Hold my um-
4 You'd taken bath, you would MT fret 30.
Bath bah I've been in all day.
Well, then, pull up your sleeves; push back your
coilar) open your vest; let out your splenders'
and carry your hat in your hand. and ,,..
For Heavens sake don't walk 80 last:
Well, don't you walk as tito your tuneral. 49,
Stub goes my too; down goes my hat; here ut
tie boy, pick it up for a cent If can get this
hand in my pocket oroon LoGH o % Oa eesn
hose Oh, dear there's a dog run over, foo tired
to got out Of the way. Driver, stop whipping
those horees. So, 30 If it was MT so hot, you d
make make me me mind my own bnsiness eh9
There, you're getting warm again. Come and
take soda III have another not so sweet ' and
Pat3 Nice and Guile yer honor, barrn the hate,
plazo God! How hot is it, Pat3 Ninety ID degEEaze gEmn
nOvS ASSYs soda O0Gs
take take it in me whishkey. What, whiskoy this
weather? Yis yer honor, it gives me strength TO- to
endure the nate. hereb uOplHB yer VI
Pat in yer drink, who's niyer SO bate, by the
cowld or the hate, but nate whishkey straight
enlivens his pate, and sets his two peppers a
blinkin.
Let's 60 it's only block homo.
Only block; why, yard will finish me. Bee
how my face pores it's as ciy as an olive.
Hadn't better dip it in water to preserve the
features2
No use they won't mix. Hooray there's a
rain cloud
And now it's gone, with only sprinkle; and
here we hotter than ever.
Bid you hear OF little Lassy-Tude, who took off
her stay yesterday, to find her waist wasted away
with the heat, and her poor little feet unaccus-
toned to use, run away in her shoes. There's the
sky plastered all over with hot yellow haze, and
the sun feeding away nitro-glycerne to get hot
ter. The armament (double-stitched round the
horizon, with not as much room to let air under
drags down fits, and tortures like oilsilk shirt
or patent-leather boot. seem to be standing
in frying pan, with ptch-hot calcium lights
playing on my phiz. Then, won't be putty
dish.
Why don't you put cabbage leaf in your hat
and some cold steel in your pockets
prefer ice sandwiches in my mouth; two pieces
Of ice with another piece between-isnt that q
contrast to fried hot pork2
But I'd like to be a bandy-legged urohin in na-
tIrdlis.
Some dry nurse would put you in woolen and
smother you in pillows, or her auld Reekie bosom.
Here's boy with extra; cholera, did you say ?
Well, can't leave town, so lazy d catch me fore
d get out.
How long think I'm going to stand in this blast
ed sun talking; I'm no salamander wot likes frying
like fire likes insurance buildings. It's too alfred
hot 'dafternoon. HOD.