The Complete Works of Artemus Ward — Part 5: The London Punch LettersWard, Artemus
General
The Complete Works of Artemus Ward — Part 5: The London Punch Letters
Ward, Artemus
American wit and humor
price of admission"); I say I am an exhibiter of startlin
curiositys, and I also have my hours of triump, but I try to be
good in 'em. If you say, "Ah, yes, but also your hours of grief
and misfortin;" I answer, it is troo, and you prob'ly refer to
the circumstans of my hirin' a young man of dissypated habits to
fix hisself up as A real Cannibal from New Zeelan, and when I was
simply tellin the audience that he was the most feroshos Cannibal
of his tribe, and that, alone and unassisted, he had et sev'ril
of our fellow countrymen, and that he had at one time even
contemplated eatin his Uncle Thomas on his mother's side, as well
as other near and dear relatives,--when I was makin' these simple
statements the mis'ble young man said I was a lyer, and knockt me
off the platform. Not quite satisfied with this, he cum and trod
hevly on me, and as he was a very muscular person and wore
remarkable thick boots, I knew at once that a canary bird wasn't
walkin' over me.
I admit that my ambition overlept herself in this instuns, and
I've been very careful ever since to deal square with the public.
If I was the public I should insist on squareness, tho' I
shouldn't do as a portion of my audience did on the occasion jest
mentioned, which they was employed in sum naberin' coal mines.
"As you hain't got no more Cannybals to show us, old man," said
one of 'em, who seemed to be a kind of leader among 'em--a tall
dis'greeble skoundril--"as you seem to be out of Cannybals, we'll
sorter look round here and fix things. Them wax figgers of yours
want washin'. There's Napoleon Bonyparte and Julius Caesar--they
must have a bath," with which coarse and brutal remark he
imitated the shrill war-hoop of the western savige, and, assisted
by his infamus coal-heavin companyins, he threw all my wax-work
into the river, and let my wild bears loose to pray on a peaceful
and inoffensive agricultooral community.
Leavin Liverpool (I'm goin' back there, tho--I want to see the
Docks, which I heard spoken of at least once while I was there) I
cum to London in a 1st class car, passin' the time very agreeable
in discussin, with a countryman of mine, the celebrated
Schleswig-Holstein question. We took that int'resting question
up and carefully traced it from the time it commenced being so,
down to the present day, when my countryman, at the close of a
four hours' annymated debate, said he didn't know anything about
it himself, and he wanted to know if I did. I told him that I
did not. He's at Ramsgate now, and I am to write him when I feel
like givin him two days in which to discuss the question of negro
slavery in America. But now I do not feel like it.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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