I hope it wasn't the intentions of the Sciencers to exclood me
from their deliberations.
Let it pars. I do not repine. Let us remember Homer. Twenty
cities claim Homer dead, thro' which the livin Mr. Homer couldn't
have got trusted for a sandwich and a glass of bitter beer, or
words to that effect.
But perhaps it was a oversight. Certinly I have been hospitably
rec'd in this country. Hospitality has been pored all over me.
At Liverpool I was asked to walk all over the docks, which are
nine miles along; and I don't remember a instance since my 'rival
in London of my gettin into a cab without a Briton comin and
perlitly shuttin the door for me, and then extendin his open hand
to'ards me, in the most frenly manner possible. Does he not, by
this simple yit tuchin gesture, welcum me to England? Doesn't
he? Oh yes--I guess he doesn't he. And it's quite right among
two great countries which speak the same langwidge, except as
regards H's. And I've been allowed to walk round all the
streets. Even at Buckinham Pallis, I told a guard I wanted to
walk round there, and he said I could walk round there. I
ascertained subsequent that he referd to the sidewalk instid of
the Pallis--but I couldn't doubt his hospital feelins.
I prepared a Essy on Animals to read before the Social Science
meetins. It is a subjeck I may troothfully say I have
successfully wrastled with. I tackled it when only nineteen
years old. At that tender age I writ a Essy for a lit'ry
Institoot entitled, "Is Cats to be Trusted?" Of the merits of
that Essy it doesn't becum me to speak, but I may be excoos'd for
mentionin that the Institoot parsed a resolution that "whether we
look upon the length of this Essy, or the manner in which it is
written, we feel that we will not express any opinion of it, and
we hope it will be read in other towns."
Of course the Essy I writ for the Social Science Society is a
more finisheder production than the one on Cats, which was wroten
when my mind was crood, and afore I had masterd a graceful and
ellygant stile of composition. I could not even punctooate my
sentences proper at that time, and I observe with pane, on lookin
over this effort of my yooth, that its beauty is in one or two
instances mar'd by ingrammaticisms. This was unexcusable, and
I'm surprised I did it. A writer who can't write in a grammerly
manner better shut up shop.
You shall hear this Essy on Animals. Some day when you have four
hours to spare, I'll read it to you. I think you'll enjoy it.
Or, what will be much better, if I may suggest--omit all picturs
in next week's "Punch," and do not let your contributors write
enything whatever (let them have a holiday; they can go to the
British Mooseum;) and publish my Essy intire. It will fill all
your collumes full, and create comment. Does this proposition
strike you? Is it a go?"
In case I had read the Essy to the Social Sciencers, I had
intended it should be the closin attraction. I had intended it
should finish the proceedins. I think it would have finished
them. I understand animals better than any other class of human
creatures. I have a very animal mind, and I've been identified
with 'em doorin my entire professional career as a showman, more
especial bears, wolves, leopards and serpunts.
The leopard is as lively a animal as I ever came into contack
with. It is troo he cannot change his spots, but you can change
'em for him with a paint-brush, as I once did in the case of a
leopard who wasn't nat'rally spotted in a attractive manner. In
exhibitin him I used to stir him up in his cage with a protracted
pole, and for the purpuss of making him yell and kick up in a
leopardy manner, I used to casionally whack him over the head.
This would make the children inside the booth scream with fright,
which would make fathers of families outside the booth very
anxious to come in--because there is a large class of parents who
have a uncontrollable passion for takin their children to places
where they will stand a chance of being frightened to death.
One day I whacked this leopard more than ushil, which elissited a
remonstrance from a tall gentleman in spectacles, who said, "My
good man, do not beat the poor caged animal. Rather fondle him."
"I'll fondle him with a club," I anserd, hitting him another
whack.
"I prythy desist," said the gentleman; "stand aside, and see the
effeck of kindness. I understand the idiosyncracies of these
creeturs better than you do."
With that he went up to the cage, and thrustin his face in
between the iron bars, he said, soothinly, "Come hither, pretty
creetur."
The pretty creetur come-hithered rayther speedy, and seized the
gentleman by the whiskers, which he tore off about enuff to stuff
a small cushion with.
He said, "You vagabone, I'll have you indicted for exhibitin
dangerous and immoral animals."
I replied, "Gentle Sir, there isn't a animal here that hasn't a
beautiful moral, but you mustn't fondle 'em. You mustn't meddle
with their idiotsyncracies."
The gentleman was a dramatic cricket, and he wrote a article for
a paper, in which he said my entertainment was a decided failure.
As regards Bears, you can teach 'em to do interesting things, but
they're onreliable. I had a very large grizzly bear once, who
would dance, and larf, and lay down, and bow his head in grief,
and give a mournful wale, etsetry. But he often annoyed me. It
will be remembered that on the occasion of the first battle of
Bull Run, it suddenly occurd to the Fed'ral soldiers that they
had business in Washington which ought not to be neglected, and
they all started for that beautiful and romantic city,
maintaining a rate of speed durin the entire distance that would
have done credit to the celebrated French steed "Gladiateur."
Very nat'rally our Gov'ment was deeply grieved at this defeat;
and I said to my Bear, shortly after, as I was givin a exhibition
in Ohio--I said, "Brewin, are you not sorry the National arms has
sustained a defeat?" His business was to wale dismal, and bow
his head down, the band (a barrel organ and a wiolin) playin slow
and melancholly moosic. What did the grizzly old cuss do,
however, but commence darncin and larfin in the most joyous
manner? I had a narrer escape from being imprisoned for
disloyalty.
I will relate another incident in the career of this retchid
Bear. I used to present what I called in the bills a Beautiful
living Pictur--showing the Bear's fondness for his Master: in
which I'd lay down on a piece of carpeting, and the Bear would
come and lay down beside me, restin his right paw on my breast,
the Band playing "Home, Sweet Home," very soft and slow. Altho'
I say it, it was a tuchin thing to see. I've seen Tax-Collectors
weep over that performance.
Well, one day I said, "Ladies and Gentlemen, we will show you the
Bear's fondness for his master," and I went and laid down. I
tho't I observed a pecooliar expression into his eyes, as he
rolled clumsily to'ards me, but I didn't dream of the scene which
follered. He laid down, and put his paw on my breast.
"Affection of the Bear for his Master," I repeated. "You see the
Monarch of the Western Wilds in a subjugated state. Fierce as
these animals naturally are, we now see that they have hearts and
can love. This Bear, the largest in the world, and measurin
seventeen feet round the body, loves me as a mer-ther loves her
che-ild!" But what was my horror when the grizzly and infamus
Bear threw his other paw UNDER me, and riz with me to his feet.
Then claspin me in a close embrace he waltzed up and down the
platform in a frightful manner, I yellin with fear and anguish.
To make matters wuss, a low scurrilus young man in the audiens
hollered out:
"Playfulness of the Bear! Quick moosic!"
I jest 'scaped with my life. The Bear met with a wiolent death
the next day, by bein in the way when a hevily loaded gun was
fired off by one of my men.
But you should hear my Essy which I wrote for the Social Science
Meetins. It would have had a movin effeck on them.