The ant iz a menny footted insekt.
They live about one thousand five hundred and fifty of them (more or
less), in the same hole in the ground, and hold their property in
common.
They hav no holydays, no eight-hour sistem, nor never strike for enny
higher wages.
They are cheerful little toilers, and hav no malice, nor back door to
their hearts.
Their iz no sedentary loafers amung them, and yu never see one out ov a
job.
They git up arly, go tew bed late, work all the time, and eat on the
run.
Yu never see two ants argueing sum phoolish question that neither ov
them didn't understand; they don't kare whether the moon iz inhabited,
or not; nor whether a fish weighing two pounds, put into a pail ov water
allreddy phull, will make the pail slop over, or weigh more.
They ain't a-hunting after the philosopher's stone, nor gitting crazy
over the cauze of the sudden earthquakes.
They don't care whether Jupiter iz 30 or 31 millions ov miles up in the
air, nor whether the arth bobs around on its axes or not, so long az it
don't bob over their korn krib and spill their barley.
They are simple, little, bizzy aunts, full ov faith, working hard,
living prudently, committing no sin, prazeing God by minding their own
bizzness, and dieing when their time cums, tew make room for the next
crop ov aunts.
They are a reproach to the lazy, an encouragement tew the industrious, a
rebuke tew the viscious, and a studdy to the Christian.
If yu want tew take a lesson in arkitekture, go and set down bi the side
ov their hole in the ground, and wonder how so menny kan liv so thick.
If yure pashunce needs consolashun, watch the ants, and be strengthened.
If man had (added tew hiz capacity) the pashunce and grit ov theze
little atoms ov animated natur, every mountin on the buzzum ov the arth
would, before this, hav bin levelled, and every inch ov surface would
scream with fruitfulness, and countless lots ov human critters would hav
bin added to the inhabitants ov the universe, and bin fed on corn and
other sass.
I hav sot by the hour and a haff down near an aunt-hill, and marvelled;
hav wondered at their instinkts, and hav thought how big must be the
jackass who waz satisfied to beleave that even an ant, the least ov the
bugs, could hav been created, made bizzy, and sot to work by _chance_.
Oh, how i do pity the individual who beleaves that all things here are
the work ov an acksident! He robs himself ov all plezzure on earth, and
all right in Heaven.
I had rather be an ant (even a humbly, bandy-legged, profane swearing
ant), than to look upon the things ov this world az i would on the throw
ov the dice.
Ants are older than Adam.
Man (_for very wize reasons_) want bilt untill all other things were
finished, and pronounced good.
If man had bin made fust he would hav insisted upon bossing the rest ov
the job.
He probably would hav objekted to having enny little bizzy aunts at all,
and various other objekshuns would hav bin offered, equally green.