He replied, "Sir, it is sweepin' England like the Cymoon of the
Desert!"
"Wall," I said, "let it sweep!"
He ceased me by the arm and said, "Let us glance at hist'ry. It
is now some two thousand years--"
"Is it, indeed?" I replied.
"Listin!" he fiercely cried; "it is only a little over two
thousand years since--"
"Oh, bother!" I remarkt, "let us go out and git some beer."
"No, Sir. I want no gross and sensual beer. I'll not move from
this spot till I can vote. Who ar you?"
I handed him my card, which in addition to my name, contains a
elabrit description of my show. "Now, Sir," I proudly said, "you
know me?"
"I sollumly swear," he sternly replied, "that I never heard of
you, or your show, in my life!"
"And this man," I cried bitterly, "calls hisself a intelligent
man, and thinks he orter be allowed to vote! What a holler
mockery!"
I've no objection to ev'ry intelligent man votin' if he wants to.
It's a pleasant amoosement, no doubt; but there is those whose
igrance is so dense and loathsum that they shouldn't be trustid
with a ballit any more'n one of my trained serpunts should be
trusted with a child to play with.
I went to the station with a view of returnin' to town on the
cars.
"This way, Sir," said the guard; "here you ar," and he pinted to
a first-class carriage, the sole ockepant of which was a rayther
prepossessin' female of about 30 summers.
"No, I thank you," I earnestly replied, "I prefer to walk."
I am, dear Sir,
Very respectivly yours,
Artemus WArd.