It is not the moste deliteful task, tew write the natral history ov the
_Louse_, thare iz enny quantity of thorobred folks, who would konsidder
it a kontaminashun, az black az pattent leather, to _say_ louse, or even
_think_ louse, but a louse is a fackt, and aul fackts are never more at
home, nor more unwilling to move, than when they git into the head. The
_louse_ is one ov the gems ov antiquity. They are worn in the hair, and
are more ornamental than useful.
Not having enny encyclopedia from which tew sponge mi informashun, and
then pass it oph for mi own creashun, i shall be forced, while talking
about the louse, "tew fight it out on the line" ov observashun, and when
mi knowledge, and experience gives out, i shall tap mi imaginashun, ov
which i hav a crude supply.
Book edukashun iz a phatting thing, it makes a man stick out with other
folks opinyuns, and iz a good thing tu make the vulgar rool up the white
ov their eyes, and wonder how enny man could ever kno so mutch wisdum.
Schooling, when I waz a colt, didn't lie around so loose az it duz now,
and learning waz picked up oftner by running yure head aginst a stun
wall, than by enny other kind ov mineralogy.
I have studied botany all day, in a flat meadow, pulling cowslops for
greens, and then classified them, by picking them over and gitting them
reddy for the pot.
All the astronomy i ever got i larnt in spearing suckers bi moonlite,
and mi geoligy culminated at the further end of a woodchucks hole,
espeshily if i got the woodchuck.
Az for moral philosophy and rhetorick, if it iz the science ov hooking
green apples and water-mellons 30 years ago, and being auful sorry for
it now, i am up head in that class.
But all this iz remote from the louse.
The louse iz a familiar animal, very sedentary in hiz habits, not apt
tew git lost. They kan be cultivated without the aid ov a guide book,
and with half a chance will multiply and thicken az much az pimples on
the goose.
Thare iz no ground so fruitful for the full development ov this little
domestick collateral, az a districkt school hous, and while the yung
idea iz breaking its shell, and playing hide and go seek on the inside
ov the dear urchins skull, the louse iz playing tag on the outside, and
quite often gets on to the school mom.
I hav alwus had a hi venerashun for the louse, not bekause i consider
them az enny evidence of genius, or even neatness, but becauze they
remind me ov my boyhood innocence, the days away back in the alpahabet
ov memory, when i sot on the flatt side ov a slab bench, and spelt out
old Webster with one hand, and stirred the top ov my head with the
other.
Philosophikally handled, the louse are gregarious, and were a complete
suckcess at one time in Egypt, bible historians don't hesitate tew say,
that they were aul the rage at that time, the whole crust ov the earth
simmered and biled with them, like a pot ov steaming flax seed, they
were a drug in the market.
But this waz more louse than waz necessary, or pleasant, and waz a
punishment for sum sin, and ain't spoke ov, az a matter tew brag on.
The louse are all well enuff in their place, and for the sake ov
variety, perhaps a few ov them are just az good az more would be.
They were desighned for sum wize purpose, and for that very reason, are
respektabel.
When, (in the lapse of time,) it cums tew be revealed to us, that a
single louse, chewing away on the summit ov Daniel Webster's head, when
he waz a little schoolboy, waz the telegraphick tutch tew the wire that
bust the fust idee in hiz brain, we shall see wisdom in the louse, and
shant stick up our noze, untill we turn a back summersett, at these
venerable soldjers, in the grand army ov progression.
After we hav reached years ov discretion, and have got our edukashun,
and our karakters have got done developing, and we begin tew hold
offiss, and are elekted justiss ov the peace, for instance, and don't
seem tew need enny more louse tew stir us up, it iz time enuff then tew
be sassy to them.
Az for me, thare iz only one piece (thus far) ov vital creation, that i
aktually _hate_, and that iz a bed-bugg. I simply _dispize_ snaiks,
_fear_ musketoze, _avoid_ fleas, don't _associate_ with the cockroach,
_go around_ toads, _back out_ square for a hornet.
Nevertheless, moreover, to wit, i must say, even at this day of
refinement, and bell letters, i do aktually luv to stand on tip-toe, and
see a romping, red-cheeked, blew-eyed boy, chased up stairs and then
down stair, and then out in the garden, and finally caught and throwed,
and held firmly between hiz mother's kneeze, and see an old, warped,
fine-toothed horn comb go and come, half buried through a flood ov
lawless hair, and drag each trip to the light, a fat and lively
louse--and, in conclusion, to hear him pop as mother pins him with her
thum nail fast tew the center ov the comb, fills me chuck up to the brim
with something, i don't know what the feeling iz; perhaps sumboddy out
ov a job can tell me.