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
"Good God!" cried the Perfesser, "did I understan you to say you hav no
sentiments!"
"Nary a sentiment!" sez I.
"Mister Ward, don't your blud bile at the thawt that three million and a
half of your culled brethren air a clankin their chains in the South?"
Sez I, "Not a bile! Let 'em clank!"
He was about to continner his flowry speech when I put a stopper on
him. Sez I, "Perfesser Peck, A. Ward is my name & Americky is my
nashun; I'm allers the same, tho' humble is my station, and I've bin in
the show bizniss goin on 22 years. The pint is, can I hav your Hall by
payin a fair price? You air full of sentiments. That's your lay, while
I'm a exhibiter of startlin curiosities. What d'ye say?"
"Mister Ward, you air endowed with a hily practical mind, and while I
deeply regret that you air devoid of sentiments I'll let you hav the
hall provided your exhibition is of a moral & elevatin nater."
Sez I, "Tain't nothin shorter."
So I opened in Kolonial Hall, which was crowded every nite with
stujents, &c. Perfesser Finny gazed for hours at my Kangaroo, but when
that sagashus but onprincipled little cuss set up one of his onarthly
yellins and I proceeded to hosswhip him, the Perfesser objected.
"Suffer not your angry pashums to rise up at the poor annimil's little
excentrissities," said the Perfesser.
"Do you call such conduck as THOSE a little excentrissity?" I axed.
"I do," sed he; sayin which he walked up to the cage and se zhe, "let's
try moral swashun upon the poor creeter." So he put his hand upon the
Kangeroo's hed and sed, "poor little fellow--poor little fellow--your
master is very crooil, isn't he, my untootered frend," when the
Kangaroo, with a terrific yell, grabd the Perfesser by the hand and cum
very near chawin it orf. It was amoozin to see the Perfesser jump up
and scream with pane. Sez I, "that's one of the poor little fellow's
excentrissities!"
Sez he, "Mister Ward, that's a dangerous quadruped. He's totally
depraved. I will retire and do my lasserated hand up in a rag, and
meanwhile I request you to meat out summery and severe punishment to the
vishus beest," I hosswhipt the little cuss for upwards of 15 minutes.
Guess I licked sum of his excentrissity out of him.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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