Mark Twain: A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court

THE TALE OF THE LOST LAND CHAPTER 26: THE FIRST NEWSPAPER (continued)

      THE BUZZARD-ROOST ASTONISHED!

                   ----

         UNPARALLELED REJOIBINGS!

--and so on, and so on. Yes, it was too loud. Once I could have enjoyed it and seen nothing out of the way about it, but now its note was discordant. It was good Arkansas journalism, but this was not Arkansas. Moreover, the next to the last line was calculated to give offense to the hermits, and perhaps lose us their advertising. Indeed, there was too lightsome a tone of flippancy all through the paper. It was plain I had undergone a considerable change without noticing it. I found myself unpleasantly affected by pert little irreverencies which would have seemed but proper and airy graces of speech at an earlier period of my life. There was an abundance of the following breed of items, and they discomforted me:

   LOCAL SMOKE AND CINDERS.

   Sir Launcelot met up with old King
    Agrivance of Ireland unexpectedly last
    weok over on the moor south of Sir
    Balmoral le Merveilleuse's hog dasture.
    The widow has been notified.

   Expedition No. 3 will start adout the
    first of mext month on a search f8r Sir
    Sagramour le Desirous. It is in com-
    and of the renowned Knight of the Red
    Lawns, assissted by Sir Persant of Inde,
    who is compete9t. intelligent, courte-
    ous, and in every way a brick, and fur-
    tHer assisted by Sir Palamides the Sara-
    cen, who is no huckleberry hinself.
    This is no pic-nic, these boys mean
    busine&s.

   The readers of the Hosannah will re-
    gret to learn that the hadndsome and
    popular Sir Charolais of Gaul, who dur-
    ing his four weeks' stay at the Bull and
    Halibut, this city, has won every heart
    by his polished manners and elegant
    cPnversation, will pUll out to-day for
    home. Give us another call, Charley!

   The bdsiness end of the funeral of
    the late Sir Dalliance the duke's son of
    Cornwall, killed in an encounter with
    the Giant of the Knotted Bludgeon last
    Tuesday on the borders of the Plain of
    Enchantment was in the hands of the
    ever affable and efficient Mumble,
    prince of un3ertakers, then whom there
    exists none by whom it were a more
    satisfying pleasure to have the last sad
    offices performed. Give him a trial.