The Complete Works of Artemus Ward — Part 1: Essays, Sketches, and LettersWard, Artemus
General
The Complete Works of Artemus Ward — Part 1: Essays, Sketches, and Letters
Ward, Artemus
American wit and humor
"I do," sed he; sayin which he walked up to the cage and sez
he, "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.
Oberlin is a grate plase. The College opens with a prayer and
then the New York Tribune is read. A kolleckshun is then taken
up to buy overkoats with red horn buttons onto them for the
indignant cullured people of Kanady. I have to contribit
librally two the glowrius work, as they kawl it hear. I'm
kompelled by the Fackulty to reserve front seets in my show for
the cullered peple. At the Boardin House the cullered peple
sit at the first table. What they leeve is maid into hash for
the white peple. As I don't like the idee of eatin my vittles
with Ethiopians, I sit at the seckind table, and the
konsequence is I've devowered so much hash that my inards is in
a hily mixt up condishun. Fish bones hav maid their appearance
all over my boddy and pertater peelins air a springin up
through my hair. Howsever I don't mind it. I'm gittin along
well in a pecunery pint of view. The College has konfired upon
me the honery title of T.K., of which I'm suffishuntly prowd.
1.11. THE SHOWMAN'S COURTSHIP.
Thare was many affectin ties which made me hanker arter Betsy
Jane. Her father's farm jined our'n; their cows and our'n
squencht their thurst at the same spring; our old mares both
had stars in their forreds; the measles broke out in both
famerlies at nearly the same period; our parients (Betsy's and
mine) slept reglarly every Sunday in the same meetin house, and
the nabers used to obsarve, "How thick the Wards and Peasleys
air!" It was a surblime site, in the Spring of the year, to
see our sevral mothers (Betsy's and mine) with their gowns
pin'd up so thay couldn't sile 'em, affecshuntly Bilin sope
together & aboozin the nabers.
Altho I hankerd intensly arter the objeck of my affecshuns, I
darsunt tell her of the fires which was rajin in my manly
Buzzum. I'd try to do it but my tung would kerwollup up agin
the roof of my mowth & stick thar, like deth to a deseast
Afrikan or a country postmaster to his offiss, while my hart
whanged agin my ribs like a old fashioned wheat Flale agin a
barn floor.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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