Josh Billings on Ice, and Other ThingsBillings, Josh
General
Josh Billings on Ice, and Other Things
Billings, Josh
American wit and humor
Prudence and kaution are the simple children ov wisdum; but suspicion
iz either a bastard, got by Deceit, upon the person of Ignorance, or
else it iz the legitimate baby ov parents who hav studdied kaution, not
tew protekt themselves, but tew be able tew cheat sumboddy else aul the
eazier.
THE WISE MAN.
Wisdum is a six-hoss team, with a karfull driver on the box. Yea! a
wize man iz an iron-klad elephant chawing hiz cud.
But this wurld is full ov wisdum that never cums out ov its hole; that
always roosts on the top limbs ov a tree and hoots at the wayfairing
man, but kant show him the way out ov the wilderness.
These kind ov wise men are like old gideboards at the crotch ov the
roads with the lettering aul washed oph--wooden prophets, wus than no
news.
Wisdum is made out ov faith and virtew and truth seasoned with toil and
experience, and scented with modesty. This kind ov wisdum is full as
glorious as it is skase.
But experience, without doubt, is the boss skool-master ov wurdly
wisdum. He is the one who taught Adam and his wife their fust lesson,
and he haint never bin out ov a job since. His skool keeps aul day
Saturday, and Sundays too, and has but one vakation in it, and that is
when aul hands are asleep.
But say what yu will, wisdum is a rare bird ennyhow. Thare is lots ov
folks that kan show yu the mule that kicked them last, but it takes one
ov yure klassikal skollars, one ov yure blooded wisdumers, tew point
out the mule that iz a going tew kick next.
Buy wisdum, mi friends, whenever it is in market, for she is a harp ov
1200 strings.
THE EFFEMINATE MAN.
The effeminate man is a weak poultiss.
He is a kross between root beer and ginger pop with the cork left out
ov the bottle over night.
He is a fresh water mermaid lost in a cow pastur, with his hands filled
with dandylions.
He is a tea-kup full of whipped sillybub--a kitten in pantylets--a sick
monkey with a blonde mustash.
He is a vine without enny tendrills--a fly drowned in sweet ile--a
paper kite in a ded calm.
He lives as the butterflise do--noboddy kan tell whi. He is as harmless
as a cent's wuth ov spruce gum, and as useless as a shirt button
without enny button-hole.
He is as lazy as a bread-pill, and has no more hope than a last year's
grasshopper.
He is a man without enny gaul, and a woman without enny gissard.
He goes thru life on his tiptose, and dies like colone water spilt on
the ground.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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