An outline of humor: Being a true chronicle from prehistoric ages to the twentieth century
History
An outline of humor: Being a true chronicle from prehistoric ages to the twentieth century
Wit and humor
serve me all those losers of hatchets after that manner.”
Having said this, Jupiter, with an awkward turn of his head, like a
jackanapes swallowing pills, made so dreadful a phiz that all the
vast Olympus quaked again. Heaven’s foot-messenger, thanks to his
low-crowned, narrow-brimmed hat, and plume of feathers, heel-pieces,
and running-stick with pigeon-wings, flings himself out at heaven’s
wicket, through the empty deserts of the air, and in a trice nimbly
alights on the earth, and throws at friend Tom’s feet the three
hatchets, saying to him: “Thou hast bawled long enough to be a-dry; thy
prayers and requests are granted by Jupiter; see which of these three
is thy hatchet, and take it away with thee.”
Wellhung lifts up the golden hatchet, peeps upon it, and finds it very
heavy; then staring on Mercury cries, “Gadzooks, this is none of mine;
I won’t ha’t.” The same he did with the silver one, and said, “’Tis not
this either; you may e’en take them again.” At last, he takes up his
own hatchet, examines the end of the helve, and finds his mark there;
then, ravished with joy, like a fox that meets some straggling poultry,
and sneering from the tip of the nose, he cries, “By the Mass, this
is my hatchet; Master God, if you will leave it me, I will sacrifice
to you a very good and huge pot of milk, brim full, covered with fine
strawberries, next Ides, _i.e._, the 15th of May.”
“Honest fellow,” said Mercury, “I leave it thee; take it; and because
thou hast wished and chosen moderately, in point of hatchet, by
Jupiter’s command I give thee these two others; thou hast now wherewith
to make thyself rich: be honest.”
Honest Tom gave Mercury a whole cart-load of thanks, and paid reverence
to the most great Jupiter. His old hatchet he fastened close to his
leathern girdle, and girds it about his breech like Martin of Cambray;
the two others, being more heavy, he lays on his shoulder. Thus he
plods on, trudging over the fields, keeping a good countenance among
his neighbors and fellow-parishioners, with one merry saying or other,
after Patelin’s way.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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