The Complete Works of Artemus Ward (HTML edition)Ward, Artemus
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The Complete Works of Artemus Ward (HTML edition)
Ward, Artemus
American wit and humor
I will here obsarve that fitin orter be allus avided, excep in extreem
cases. My principle is, if a man smites me on the right cheek I'll
turn my left to him, prob'ly; but if he insinooates that my gran'mother
wasn't all right, I'll punch his hed. But fitin is mis'ble bisniss,
gen'rally speakin, and whenever any enterprisin countryman of mine cums
over here to scoop up a Briton in the prize ring I'm allus excessively
tickled when he gets scooped hisself, which it is a sad fack has thus
far been the case--my only sorrer bein' that t'other feller wasn't
scooped likewise. It's diff'rently with scullin boats, which is a manly
sport, and I can only explain Mr. Hamil's resunt defeat in this country
on the grounds that he wasn't used to British water. I hope this
explanation will be entirely satisfact'ry to all.
As I remarked afore, I'm gettin' on well. I'm aware that I'm in the
great metrop'lis of the world, and it doesn't make me onhappy to admit
the fack. A man is a ass who dispoots it. That's all that ails him. I
know there is sum peple who cum over here and snap and snarl 'bout this
and that: I know one man who says it is a shame and a disgrace that St.
Paul's Church isn't a older edifiss; he says it should be years and even
ages older than it is; but I decline to hold myself responsible for the
conduck of this idyit simply because he's my countryman. I spose every
civ'lised land is endowed with its full share of gibberin' idyits, and
it can't be helpt--leastways I can't think of any effectooal plan of
helpin' it.
I'm a little sorry you've got politics over here, but I shall not
diskuss 'em with nobody. Tear me to pieces with wild omnibus hosses,
and I won't diskuss 'em. I've had quite enuff of 'em at home, thank
you. I was at Birmingham t'other night, and went to the great meetin'
for a few minits. I hadn't been in the hall long when a stern-lookin'
artisan said to me:
"You ar from Wales!"
No, I told him I didn't think I was. A hidgyis tho't flasht over me.
It was of that onprincipled taler, and I said, "Has my clothin' a Welchy
appearance?"
"Not by no means," he answered, and then he said, "And what is your
opinyin of the present crisis?"
I said, "I don't zackly know. Have you got it very bad?"
He replied, "Sir, it is sweepin' England like the Cymoon of the Desert!"
"Wall," I said, "let it sweep!"
He ceased me by the arm and said, "Let us glance at hist'ry. It is now
some two thousand years--"
"Is it, indeed?" I replied.
"Listin!" he fiercely cried; "it is only a little over two thousand
years since--"
"Oh, bother!" I remarkt, "let us go out and git some beer."
"No, Sir. I want no gross and sensual beer. I'll not move from this
spot till I can vote. Who ar you?"
I handed him my card, which in addition to my name, contains a elabrit
description of my show. "Now, Sir," I proudly said, "you know me?"
"I sollumly swear," he sternly replied, "that I never heard of you, or
your show, in my life!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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