The Works of Thomas Hood; Vol. 01 (of 11): Comic and Serious, in Prose and Verse, With All the Original IllustrationsHood, Thomas
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The Works of Thomas Hood; Vol. 01 (of 11): Comic and Serious, in Prose and Verse, With All the Original Illustrations
Hood, Thomas
English poetry -- 19th century; English wit and humor; Humorous poetry, English
and fondly stealing us from this worky-day world to a sunny sphere of
her own.
This is a novel version, Reader, of “Paradise and the Pen,” but it is
as true as it is new. How else could I have converted a serious illness
into a comic wellness--by what other agency could I have transported
myself, as a Cockney would say, from _Dull_age to _Grin_age? It was
far from a practical joke to be laid up in ordinary in a foreign land,
under the care of Physicians quite as much abroad as myself with the
case; indeed the shades of the gloaming were stealing over my prospect;
but I resolved, that, like the sun, so long as my day lasted, I
would look on the bright side of everything. The raven croaked, but
I persuaded myself that it was the nightingale: there was the smell
of the mould, but I remembered that it nourished the violets. However
my body might cry craven, my mind luckily had no mind to give in. So,
instead of mounting on the black long-tailed coach horse, she vaulted
on her old Hobby that had capered in the Morris-Dance, and began to
exhort from its back. To be sure, said she, matters look darkly enough;
but the more need for the lights. Allons! Courage! Things may take a
turn, as the pig said on the spit. Never throw down your cards, but
play out the game. The more certain to lose, the wiser to get all the
play you can for your money. Come--give us a song! chirp away like that
best of cricket-players, the cricket himself. Be bowled out or caught
out, but never throw down the bat. As to Health, it’s the weather of
the body--it hails, it rains, it blows, it snows, at present, but it
may clear up by-and-by. You cannot eat, you say, and you must not
drink; but laugh and make believe, like the Barber’s wise brother at
the Barmecide’s feast. Then, as to thinness, not to flatter, you look
like a lath that has had a split with the carpenter and a fall out with
the plaster; but so much the better! remember how the smugglers trim
the sails of the lugger to escape the notice of the cutter. Turn your
edge to the old enemy, and mayhap he won’t see you! Come--be alive! You
have no more right to slight your life than to neglect your wife--they
are the two better halves that make a man of you! Is not life your
means of living? so stick to thy business and thy business will stick
to thee. Of course, continued my mind, I am quite disinterested in this
advice--for I am aware of my own immortality but for that very reason,
take care of the mortal body, poor body, and give it as long a day as
you can!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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