The Complete Works of Artemus Ward — Part 2: WarWard, Artemus
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The Complete Works of Artemus Ward — Part 2: War
Ward, Artemus
American wit and humor
"Yes," sez I, "they confisticated me too muchly. I had sum
hosses confisticated in the same way onct, but the
confisticaters air now poundin stun in the States Prison in
Injinnapylus."
"Wall, wall Mister Ward, you air at liberty to depart; you air
friendly to the South, I know. Even now we hav many frens in
the North, who sympathize with us, and won't mingle with this
fight."
"J. Davis, there's your grate mistaik. Many of us was your
sincere frends, and thought certin parties amung us was fussin
about you and meddlin with your consarns intirely too much.
But J. Davis, the minit you fire a gun at the piece of dry-
goods called the Star-Spangled Banner, the North gits up and
rises en massy, in defence of that banner. Not agin you as
individooals,--not agin the South even--but to save the flag.
We should indeed be weak in the knees, unsound in the heart,
milk-white in the liver, and soft in the hed, if we stood
quietly by, and saw this glorus Govyment smashed to pieces,
either by a furrin or a intestine foe. The gentle-harted
mother hates to take her naughty child across her knee, but
she knows it is her dooty to do it. So we shall hate to whip
the naughty South, but we must do it if you don't make back
tracks at onct, and we shall wallup you out of your boots! J.
Davis, it is my decided opinion that the Sonny South is makin
a egrejus mutton-hed of herself!"
"Go on, sir, you're safe enuff. You're two small powder for
me!" sed the President of the Southern Conthieveracy.
"Wait till I go home and start out the Baldinsville Mounted
Hoss Cavalry! I'm Capting of that Corpse, I am, and J. Davis,
beware! Jefferson D., I now leave you! Farewell my gay Saler
Boy! Good-bye, my bold buccaneer! Pirut of the deep blue
sea, adoo! adoo!"
My tower threw the Southern Conthieveracy on my way home was
thrillin enuff for yeller covers. It will form the subjeck of
my next. Betsy Jane and the projeny air well.
Yours respectively,
A. Ward.
2.2. THRILLING SCENES IN DIXIE.
I had a narrer scape from the sonny South. "The swings and
arrers of outrajus fortin," alluded to by Hamlick, warn't
nothin in comparison to my trubles. I come pesky near swearin
sum profane oaths more'n onct, but I hope I didn't do it, for
I've promist she whose name shall be nameless (except that her
initials is Betsy J.) that I'll jine the Meetin House at
Baldinsville, jest as soon as I can scrape money enuff
together so I can 'ford to be piuss in good stile, like my
welthy nabers. But if I'm confisticated agin I'm fraid I
shall continner on in my present benited state for sum time.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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