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
"Wall," sez I, "ef all you fellers repose in that there Buzzum
thar'll be mity poor nussin for sum of you!" whereupon Old Abe
buttoned his weskit clear up and blusht like a maidin of sweet
16. Jest at this pint of the conversation another swarm of
orfice-seekers arrove & cum pilin into the parler. Sum wanted
post orfices, sum wanted collectorships, sum wantid furrin
missions, and all wanted sumthin. I thought Old Abe would go
crazy. He hadn't more than had time to shake hands with 'em,
before another tremenjis crowd cum porein onto his premises. His
house and dooryard was now perfeckly overflowed with orfice seekers,
all clameruss for a immejit interview with with Old Abe. One man
from Ohio, who had about seven inches of corn whisky into him,
mistook me for Old Abe and addrest me as "The Pra-hayrie Flower of
the West!" Thinks I YOU want a offiss putty bad. Another man with
a gold-heded cane and a red nose told Old Abe he was "a seckind
Washington & the Pride of the Boundliss West."
Sez I, "Square, you wouldn't take a small post-offiss if you could
git it, would you?"
Sez he, "A patrit is abuv them things, sir!"
"There's a putty big crop of patrits this season, ain't there,
Squire?" sez I, when ANOTHER crowd of offiss seekers pored in. The
house, dooryard, barng & woodshed was now all full, and when
ANOTHER crowd cum I told 'em not to go away for want of room as the
hog-pen was still empty. One patrit from a small town in Michygan
went up on top the house, got into the chimney and slid into the
parler where Old Abe was endeverin to keep the hungry pack of
orfice-seekers from chawin him up alive without benefit of clergy.
The minit he reached the fireplace he jumpt up, brusht the soot out
of his eyes, and yelled: "Don't make eny pintment at the
Spunkville postoffiss till you've read my papers. All the
respectful men in our town is signers to that there dockyment!"
"Good God!" cried Old Abe, "they cum upon me from the skize--down
the chimneys, and from the bowels of the yerth!" He hadn't more'n
got them words out of his delikit mouth before two fat
offiss-seekers from Winconsin, in endeverin to crawl atween his
legs for the purpuss of applyin for the tollgateship at Milwawky,
upsot the President eleck, & he would hev gone sprawlin into the
fireplace if I hadn't caught him in these arms. But I hadn't more'n
stood him up strate before another man cum crashing down the chimney,
his head strikin me viliently again the inards and prostratin my
voluptoous form onto the floor. "Mr. Linkin," shoutid the
infatooated being, "my papers is signed by every clergyman in our
town, and likewise the skoolmaster!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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