The Louisiana Democrat. [volume] (Alexandria, La.) 1845-1918, 1877-08-22
A Model Love Letter.


mother of three children. After his
passion had cooled, apd he failed to
'come to time," the lady sued him
for a breach of promise Of marriage,
and recovered $500 as healing balm
for her lacerated heart, the latter be.
ing part of the evidence produced on
the trial:
My DEAR MRS. M***
Every time l think Of you my heart
fops up and down like churn -dasher.
Sensations of unutterable joy caper
over it like young goats on stable
roof, and thrill through it like Spanish
needles through pair of tow linen
trowsers. AS goslin swimmeth in a
mud puddle, SO swim in a sea of glo-
~. Visions of ecstatic rapture thicker
than the hairs on backing brush,
and brighter than the hues of a hum
ming birds pinions, visit me in my
SAUNDERS, and borne on their invisible
wings, your image stands before me,
and reach out to grasp it like a poin:
ter swapping at blue bottle fly.
When first I beheld your angelic per-
fections l was bewildered, and my
brain whirled round like humble bee
under glass tumbler. My eyes stood
open like cellar doors IN a country
town, and lifted up my ears to catch
the silvery accents of your voice. My
tongue refused to wag, and in silent
admiration drank in the sweet infec-
ton of love as thirsty man swallow
eth hot wbiskey punch,
Since the light of your face fell upon
my life, sometimes feel as if could
lift myself up by my boot-straps as
high as the church steeple, and pull
the bell-rope for singing school. Day
and night you are in my thoughts.
When Aurora, blushing like a bride,
rises from her saffron colored couch;
when the hooking bird pipes his tune
full lay in the apple tree by the spring
house; when the shrilI clarion heralds
the coming morn; when the awakening
pig arises from his pen and grunteth
and goeth for his morning refresh
ments; when the drowsy beetle wheels
to droning flight at sultry noontide;
and when the lowing herds come home
at milking time, I think Of thee: and
like a piece of gum elastic my heart
seems stretched clear across my bo-
som. Your hair is like the name. of
sorrel horse powdered with gold; and
the brass skewered through your wa
terfall fill me with unbounded ave.
Your forehead is smoother than the
elbow of an old coat. Your eyes are
glorious to behold. In their liquid
depths l see legions of little Cupids
bathing, like coflort of ants in an old
army cracker. When their fire first
hit upon my manly breast, it peDetra-
ted my whole anatomy like load of
birdshot through rotten apple. Your
nose is from chunk of Parian marble
and your mouth is puckered with
sweetness. Nectar fingers on your lips
like honey OF bears paw; and myri-
ads Of unhedged kisses are there ready
to fly ont and light somewhere like
buzzards out Of their parents nest =
Your laugh rings in my ears like the
bleat of the stray lamb Oh the bleak
hillside. The dimples on your cheeks
are like bowers in beds of roses, or
hollows in cakes of home made sugar.
/ am dying to fly to thy presence
and pour out the burning eloquence of
my love as thrifty housewives pour
out hot coffee. Away from you l am
as melancholy as sick rat. Some
times | can hear the June bugs of des-
poudency buzzing in my ears, and feel
the cold lizards of despair crawling
down my back. Uncouth fears, like
thousand minuows, nibble at my spir-
its, and my soul is pierced with doubts
like an old cheese is bored With
shippers.
My love for you is stronger than the
kick of a young cow, or the smell of
Cofey's patent butter, and more unset
fish than a kittens first caterwaul.
As sons-bird bankers for the light of
day, the cautious mouse for the fresh
bacon set in the trap, as mean pup
bankers for new milk, so l long
for thee.
You are fairer than a speckled pull
let, sweeter than a Yankee doughnut
fried in sorghum molasses, brighter
than topknot plumage on the head of
a muscovy duck. You are sweetened
toddy altogether.
If these FEW remarks will enable
you to see the inside of my soul, and
me to win your affections, shall be
as happy as woodpecker in a cherry
tree, or hungry stage horse in a
green pasture. II you can not recipro
cate my thrilling passion, I will pine
away like poisoned bedbug, and fall
away from f1ourishing vine Of life, an
untimely branch and in coming years,
when the shadows grow from the hills,