Sez I, "My frends I've bin into the show biznis now goin on 23

years. Theres a artikil in the Constitooshun of the United

States which sez in effeck that everybody may think just as he

darn pleazes, & them is my sentiments to a hare. You dowtlis

beleeve this Sperret doctrin while I think it is a little mixt.

Just so soon as a man becums a reglar out & out Sperret rapper

he leeves orf workin, lets his hare grow all over his fase &

commensis spungin his livin out of other peple. He eats all

the dickshunaries he can find & goze round chock full of big

words, scarein the wimmin folks & little children & destroyin

the piece of mind of evry famerlee he enters. He don't do

nobody no good & is a cuss to society & a pirit on honest

peple's corn beef barrils. Admittin all you say abowt the

doctrin to be troo, I must say the reglar perfessional Sperrit

rappers--them as makes a biznis on it--air abowt the most

ornery set of cusses I ever enkountered in my life. So sayin I

put on my surtoot and went home.

Respectably Yures,

Artemus Ward.

1.7. ON THE WING.

Gents of the Editorial Corpse.--

Since I last rit you I've met with immense success a showin my

show in varis places, particly at Detroit. I put up at Mr.

Russel's tavern, a very good tavern too, but I am sorry to

inform you that the clerks tried to cum a Gouge Game on me. I

brandished my new sixteen dollar huntin-cased watch round

considerable, & as I was drest in my store clothes & had a lot

of sweet-scented wagon-grease on my hair, I am free to confess

that I thought I lookt putty gay. It never once struck me that

I lookt green. But up steps a clerk & axes me hadn't I better

put my watch in the Safe. "Sir," sez I, "that watch cost

sixteen dollars! Yes, Sir, every dollar of it! You can't cum

it over me, my boy! Not at all, Sir." I know'd what the clerk

wanted. He wanted that watch himself. He wanted to make

believe as tho he lockt it up in the safe, then he would set

the house a fire and pretend as tho the watch was destroyed

with the other property! But he caught a Tomarter when he got

hold of me. From Detroit I go West'ard hoe. On the cars was a

he-lookin female, with a green-cotton umbreller in one hand and

a handful of Reform tracks in the other. She sed every woman

should have a Spear. Them as didn't demand their Spears,

didn't know what was good for them. "What is my Spear?" she

axed, addressing the people in the cars. "Is it to stay at

home & darn stockins & be the ser-LAVE of a domineerin man? Or

is it my Spear to vote & speak & show myself the ekal of a man?

Is there a sister in these keers that has her proper Spear?"

Sayin which the eccentric female whirled her umbreller round

several times, & finally jabbed me in the weskit with it.

"I hav no objecshuns to your goin into the Spear bizness," sez

I, "but you'll please remember I ain't a pickeril. Don't Spear

me agin, if you please." She sot down.

At Ann Arbor, bein seized with a sudden faintness, I called for

a drop of suthin to drink. As I was stirrin the beverage up, a

pale-faced man in gold spectacles laid his hand upon my

shoulder, & sed, "Look not upon the wine when it is red!"

Sez I, "This ain't wine. This is Old Rye."

"'It stingeth like a Adder and biteth like a Sarpent!'" sed the

man.

"I guess not," sed I, "when you put sugar into it. That's the

way I allers take mine."

"Have you sons grown up, sir?" the man axed.

"Wall," I replide, as I put myself outside my beverage, "my son

Artemus junior is goin on 18."

"Ain't you afraid if you set this example be4 him he'll cum to

a bad end?"

"He's cum to a waxed end already. He's learnin the shoe makin

bizness," I replide. "I guess we can both on us git along

without your assistance, Sir," I obsarved, as he was about to

open his mouth agin.

"This is a cold world!" sed the man.

"That's so. But you'll get into a warmer one by and by if you

don't mind your own bizness better." I was a little riled at

the feller, because I never take anythin only when I'm onwell.

I arterwards learned he was a temperance lecturer, and if he

can injuce men to stop settin their inards on fire with the

frightful licker which is retailed round the country, I shall

hartily rejoice. Better give men Prusick Assid to onct, than

to pizen 'em to deth by degrees.

At Albion I met with overwhelmin success. The celebrated

Albion Female Semenary is located here, & there air over 300

young ladies in the Institushun, pretty enough to eat without

seasonin or sass. The young ladies was very kind to me,

volunteerin to pin my handbills onto the backs of their

dresses. It was a surblime site to see over 300 young ladies

goin round with a advertisement of A. Ward's onparaleld show,

conspickusly posted onto their dresses.

They've got a Panick up this way and refooze to take Western

money. It never was worth much, and when western men, who

knows what it is, refooze to take their own money it is about

time other folks stopt handlin it. Banks are bustin every day,

goin up higher nor any balloon of which we hav any record.

These western bankers air a sweet & luvly set of men. I wish I

owned as good a house as some of 'em would break into!

Virtoo is its own reward.

A. Ward.

1.8. THE OCTOROON.

It is with no ordernary feelins of Shagrin & indignashun that I

rite you these here lines. Sum of the hiest and most purest

feelins whitch actoate the humin hart has bin trampt onto. The

Amerycan flag has bin outrajed. Ive bin nussin a Adder in my

Boozum. The fax in the kase is these here:

A few weeks ago I left Baldinsville to go to N.Y. fur to git

out my flamin yeller hanbills fur the Summer kampane, & as I

was peroosin a noospaper on the kars a middel aged man in

speckterkuls kum & sot down beside onto me. He was drest in

black close & was appeerently as fine a man as ever was.

"A fine day, Sir," he did unto me strateway say.

"Middlin," sez I, not wishin to kommit myself, tho he peered to

be as fine a man as there was in the wurld--"It is a middlin

fine day, Square," I obsarved.

Sez he, "How fares the Ship of State in yure regine of

country?"

Sez I, "We don't hav no ships in our State--the kanawl is our

best holt."

He pawsed a minit and then sed, "Air yu aware, Sir, that the

krisis is with us?"

"No," sez I, getting up and lookin under the seet, "whare is

she?"

"It's hear--it's everywhares," he sed.

Sez I, "Why how you tawk!" and I gut up agin & lookt all round.

"I must say, my fren," I continnered, as I resoomed my seet,

"that I kan't see nothin of no krisis myself." I felt sumwhat

alarmed, & arose & in a stentoewrian voice obsarved that if any

lady or gentleman in that there kar had a krisis consealed

abowt their persons they'd better projuce it to onct or suffer

the konsequences. Several individoouls snickered rite out,

while a putty little damsell rite behind me in a pinc gown made

the observashun, "He, he."

"Sit down, my fren," sed the man in black close, "yu

miskomprehend me. I meen that the perlittercal ellermunts are

orecast with black klouds, 4boden a friteful storm."

"Wall," replide I, "in regard to perlittercal ellerfunts I

don't know as how but what they is as good as enny other kind

of ellerfunts. But I maik bold to say thay is all a ornery set

& unpleasant to hav around. They air powerful hevy eaters &

take up a right smart chans of room, & besides thay air as ugly

and revenjeful, as a Cusscaroarus Injun, with 13 inches of corn

whisky in his stummick." The man in black close seemed to be

as fine a man as ever was in the wurld. He smilt & sed praps I

was rite, tho it was ellermunts instid of ellerfunts that he

was alludin to, & axed me what was my prinserpuls?

"I haint gut enny," sed I--"not a prinserpul. Ime in the show

biznis." The man in black close, I will hear obsarve, seemed

to be as fine a man as ever was in the wurld.

"But," sez he, "you hav feelins into you? You cimpathize with

the misfortunit, the loly & the hart-sick, don't you?" He bust

into teers and axed me ef I saw that yung lady in the seet out

yender, pintin to as slick a lookin gal as I ever seed.

Sed I, "2 be shure I see her--is she mutch sick?" The man in

black close was appeerently as fine a man as ever was in the

wurld ennywhares.

"Draw closter to me," sed the man in black close. "Let me git

my mowth fernenst yure ear. Hush--SHESE A OCTOROON!"

"No!" sez I, gittin up in a exsited manner, "yu don't say so!

How long has she bin in that way?"

"Frum her arliest infuncy," sed he.

"Wall, whot upon arth duz she doo it fur?" I inquired.

"She kan't help it," sed the man in black close. "It's the

brand of Kane."

"Wall, she'd better stop drinkin Kane's brandy," I replide.

"I sed the brand of Kane was upon her--not brandy, my fren.

Yure very obtoose."

I was konsiderbul riled at this. Sez I, "My gentle Sir, Ime a

nonresistanter as a ginral thing, & don't want to git up no

rows with nobuddy, but I kin nevertheles kave in enny man's hed

that calls me a obtoos," with whitch remarks I kommenst fur to

pull orf my extry garmints. "Cum on," sez I--"Time! hear's the

Beniki Boy fur ye!" & I darnced round like a poppit. He riz up

in his seet & axed my pardin--sed it was all a mistake--that I

was a good man, etsettery, & sow 4th, & we fixt it all up

pleasant. I must say the man in black close seamed to be as

fine a man as ever lived in the wurld. He sed a Octoroon was

the 8th of a negrow. He likewise statid that the female he was

travlin with was formurly a slave in Mississippy; that she'd

purchist her freedim & now wantid to purchiss the freedim of

her poor old muther, who (the man in black close obsarved) was

between 87 years of age & had to do all the cookin & washin for

25 hired men, whitch it was rapidly breakin down her konstitushun.

He sed he knowed the minit he gazed onto my klassic & beneverlunt

fase that I'd donate librully & axed me to go over & see her,

which I accordingly did. I sot down beside her and sed, "yure

Sarvant, Marm! How do yer git along?"

She bust in 2 teers & sed, "O Sur, I'm so retchid--I'm a poor

unfortunit Octoroon."

"So I larn. Yure rather more Roon than Octo, I take it," sed

I, fur I never seed a puttier gal in the hull endoorin time of

my life. She had on a More Antic Barsk & a Poplin Nubier with

Berage trimmins onto it, while her ise & kurls was enuff to

make a man jump into a mill pond without biddin his relashuns

good-by. I pittid the Octoroon from the inmost recusses of my

hart & hawled out 50 dollars kerslap, & told her to buy her old

muther as soon as posserbul. Sez she "kine sir mutch thanks."

She then lade her hed over onto my showlder & sed I was "old

rats." I was astonished to heer this obsarvation, which I

knowd was never used in refined society & I perlitely but

emfattercly shovd her hed away.

Sez I "Marm, I'm trooly sirprized."

Sez she, "git out. Yure the nicist old man Ive seen yit. Give

us anuther 50!" Had a seleck assortment of the most tremenjious

thunderbolts descended down onto me I couldn't hav bin more

takin aback. I jumpt up, but she ceased my coat tales & in a

wild voise cride, "No, Ile never desart you--let us fli together

to a furrin shoor!"

Sez I, "not mutch we wont," and I made a powerful effort to get

awa from her. "This is plade out," I sed, whereupon she jerkt

me back into the seet. "Leggo my coat, you scandaluss female,"

I roared, when she set up the most unarthly yellin and hollerin

you ever heerd. The passinjers & the gentlemunly konducter

rusht to the spot, & I don't think I ever experiunsed sich a

rumpus in the hull coarse of my natral dase. The man in black

close rusht up to me & sed "How dair yu insult my neece, you

horey heded vagabone. You base exhibbiter of low wax figgers--

yu woolf in sheep's close," & sow 4th.

I was konfoozed. I was a loonytick fur the time bein, and

offered 5 dollars reward to enny gentleman of good morrul

carracter who wood tell me whot my name was & what town I livd

into. The konducter kum to me & sed the insultid parties wood

settle for 50 dollars, which I immejitly hawled out, & agane

implored sumbuddy to state whare I was prinsipully, & if I

shood be thare a grate while my self ef things went on as

they'd bin goin fur sum time back. I then axed if there was

enny more Octoroons present, "becawz," sez I, "ef there is, let

um cum along, fur Ime in the Octoroon bizniss." I then threw

my specterculs out of the winder, smasht my hat wildly down

over my Ise, larfed highsterically & fell under a seet. I lay

there sum time & fell asleep. I dreamt Mrs. Ward & the twins

had bin carried orf by Ryenosserhosses & that Baldinsville had

bin captered by a army of Octoroons. When I awoked the lamps

was a burnin dimly. Sum of the passinjers was a snorein like

pawpusses & the little damsell in the pinc gown was a singin

"Oft in the Silly nite." The onprinsipuld Octoroon & the

miserbul man in black close was gone, & all of a suddent it

flasht ore my brane that I'de bin swindild.

1.9. EXPERIENCE AS AN EDITOR.

In the Ortum of 18-- my frend, the editor of the Baldinsville

Bugle, was obleged to leave perfeshernal dooties & go & dig his

taters, & he axed me to edit for him dooring his absence.

Accordingly I ground up his Shears and commenced. It didn't

take me a grate while to slash out copy enuff from the xchanges

(Perhaps five per cent. of the Western newspapers is original

matter relating to the immediate neighborhood, the rest is

composed of "telegraphs" and clippings from the "exchanges"--a

general term applied to those papers posted in exchange for

others, the accommodation being a mutual benefit.) for one

issoo, and I thawt I'd ride up to the next town on a little

Jaunt, to rest my Branes, which had bin severely rackt by my

mental efforts. (This is sorter Ironical.) So I went over to

the Rale Road offiss and axed the Sooprintendent for a pars.

"YOU a editer?" he axed, evijently on the pint of snickerin.

"Yes Sir," sez I; "don't I look poor enuff?"

"Just about," sed he, "but our Road can't pars you."

"Can't, hay?"

"No Sir--it can't."

"Becauz," sez I, lookin him full in the face with a Eagle eye,

"IT GOES SO DARNED SLOW IT CAN'T PARS ANYBODY!" Methinks I had

him thar. It's the slowest Rale Road in the West. With a

mortified air, he told me to git out of his offiss. I pittid

him and went.

1.10. OBERLIN.

About two years ago I arrove in Oberlin, Ohio. Oberlin is

whare the celebrated college is. In fack, Oberlin IS the

college, everything else in that air vicinity resolvin around

excloosivly for the benefit of that institution. It is a very

good college, too, & a grate many wurthy yung men go there

annooally to git intelleck into 'em. But its my onbiassed

'pinion that they go it rather too strong on Ethiopians at

Oberlin. But that's nun of my bisniss. I'm into the Show

bizness. Yit as a faithful historan I must menshun the fack

that on rainy dase white peple can't find their way threw the

streets without the gas is lit, there bein such a numerosity of

cullerd pussons in the town.

As I was sayin, I arroved at Oberlin, and called on Perfesser

Peck for the purpuss of skewerin Kolonial Hall to exhibit my

wax works and beests of Pray into. Kolonial Hall is in the

college and is used by the stujents to speak peaces and read

essays into.

Sez Perfesser Peck, "Mister Ward, I don't know 'bout this

bizniss. What are your sentiments?"

Sez I, "I hain't got any."

"Good God!" cried the Perfesser, "did I understan you to say

you hav no sentiments!"

"Nary a sentiment!" sez I.

"Mister Ward, don't your blud bile at the thawt that three

million and a half of your culled brethren air a clankin their

chains in the South?"

Sez I, "Not a bile! Let 'em clank!"

He was about to continner his flowry speech when I put a

stopper on him. Sez I, "Perfesser Peck, A. Ward is my name &

Americky is my nashun; I'm allers the same, tho' humble is my

station, and I've bin in the show bizniss goin on 22 years.

The pint is, can I hav your Hall by payin a fair price? You

air full of sentiments. That's your lay, while I'm a exhibiter

of startlin curiosities. What d'ye say?"

"Mister Ward, you air endowed with a hily practical mind, and

while I deeply regret that you air devoid of sentiments I'll

let you hav the hall provided your exhibition is of a moral &

elevatin nater."

Sez I, "Tain't nothin shorter."

So I opened in Kolonial Hall, which was crowded every nite with

stujents, &c. Perfesser Finny gazed for hours at my Kangaroo,

but when that sagashus but onprincipled little cuss set up one

of his onarthly yellins and I proceeded to hosswhip him, the

Perfesser objected. "Suffer not your angry pashums to rise up

at the poor annimil's little excentrissities," said the

Perfesser.

"Do you call such conduck as THOSE a little excentrissity?" I

axed.

"I do," sed he; sayin which he walked up to the cage and sez

he, "let's try moral swashun upon the poor creeter." So he put

his hand upon the Kangeroo's hed and sed, "poor little fellow--

poor little fellow--your master is very crooil, isn't he, my

untootered frend," when the Kangaroo, with a terrific yell,

grabd the Perfesser by the hand and cum very near chawin it

orf. It was amoozin to see the Perfesser jump up and scream

with pane. Sez I, "that's one of the poor little fellow's

excentrissities!"

Sez he, "Mister Ward, that's a dangerous quadruped. He's

totally depraved. I will retire and do my lasserated hand up in

a rag, and meanwhile I request you to meat out summery and

severe punishment to the vishus beest," I hosswhipt the little

cuss for upwards of 15 minutes. Guess I licked sum of his

excentrissity out of him.

Oberlin is a grate plase. The College opens with a prayer and

then the New York Tribune is read. A kolleckshun is then taken

up to buy overkoats with red horn buttons onto them for the

indignant cullured people of Kanady. I have to contribit

librally two the glowrius work, as they kawl it hear. I'm

kompelled by the Fackulty to reserve front seets in my show for

the cullered peple. At the Boardin House the cullered peple

sit at the first table. What they leeve is maid into hash for

the white peple. As I don't like the idee of eatin my vittles

with Ethiopians, I sit at the seckind table, and the

konsequence is I've devowered so much hash that my inards is in

a hily mixt up condishun. Fish bones hav maid their appearance

all over my boddy and pertater peelins air a springin up

through my hair. Howsever I don't mind it. I'm gittin along

well in a pecunery pint of view. The College has konfired upon

me the honery title of T.K., of which I'm suffishuntly prowd.

1.11. THE SHOWMAN'S COURTSHIP.

Thare was many affectin ties which made me hanker arter Betsy

Jane. Her father's farm jined our'n; their cows and our'n

squencht their thurst at the same spring; our old mares both

had stars in their forreds; the measles broke out in both

famerlies at nearly the same period; our parients (Betsy's and

mine) slept reglarly every Sunday in the same meetin house, and

the nabers used to obsarve, "How thick the Wards and Peasleys

air!" It was a surblime site, in the Spring of the year, to

see our sevral mothers (Betsy's and mine) with their gowns

pin'd up so thay couldn't sile 'em, affecshuntly Bilin sope

together & aboozin the nabers.

Altho I hankerd intensly arter the objeck of my affecshuns, I

darsunt tell her of the fires which was rajin in my manly

Buzzum. I'd try to do it but my tung would kerwollup up agin

the roof of my mowth & stick thar, like deth to a deseast

Afrikan or a country postmaster to his offiss, while my hart

whanged agin my ribs like a old fashioned wheat Flale agin a

barn floor.

'Twas a carm still nite in Joon. All nater was husht and nary

a zeffer disturbed the sereen silens. I sot with Betsy Jane on

the fense of her farther's pastur. We'd bin rompin threw the

woods, kullin flours & drivin the woodchuck from his Nativ Lair

(so to speak) with long sticks. Wall, we sot thar on the

fense, a swingin our feet two and fro, blushin as red as the

Baldinsville skool house when it was fust painted, and lookin

very simple, I make no doubt. My left arm was ockepied in

ballunsin myself on the fense, while my rite was woundid

luvinly round her waste.

I cleared my throat and tremblin sed, "Betsy, you're a

Gazelle."

I thought that air was putty fine. I waitid to see what effeck

it would hav upon her. It evidently didn't fetch her, for she

up and sed,

"You're a sheep!"

Sez I, "Betsy, I think very muchly of you."

"I don't b'leeve a word you say--so there now cum!" with which

obsarvashun she hitched away from me.

"I wish thar was winders to my Sole," sed I, "so that you could

see some of my feelins. There's fire enuff in here," sed I,

strikin my buzzum with my fist, "to bile all the corn beef and

turnips in the naberhood. Versoovius and the Critter ain't a

circumstans!"

She bowd her hed down and commenst chawin the strings to her

sun bonnet.

"Ar could you know the sleeplis nites I worry threw with on

your account, how vittles has seized to be attractiv to me &

how my lims has shrunk up, you wouldn't dowt me. Gase on this

wastin form and these 'ere sunken cheeks"--

I should have continnered on in this strane probly for sum

time, but unfortnitly I lost my ballunse and fell over into the

pastur ker smash, tearin my close and seveerly damagin myself

ginerally.

Betsy Jane sprung to my assistance in dubble quick time and

dragged me 4th. Then drawin herself up to her full hite she

sed:

"I won't listen to your noncents no longer. Jes say rite

strate out what you're drivin at. If you mean gettin hitched,

I'M IN!"

I considered that air enuff for all practicul purpusses, and we

proceeded immejitely to the parson's, & was made 1 that very

nite.

(Notiss to the Printer: Put some stars here.)

* * * * * *

I've parst threw many tryin ordeels sins then, but Betsy Jane

has bin troo as steel. By attendin strickly to bizniss I've

amarsed a handsum Pittance. No man on this footstool can rise &

git up & say I ever knowinly injered no man or wimmin folks,

while all agree that my Show is ekalled by few and exceld by

none, embracin as it does a wonderful colleckshun of livin wild

Beests of Pray, snaix in grate profushun, a endliss variety of

life-size wax figgers, & the only traned kangaroo in Ameriky--

the most amoozin little cuss ever introjuced to a discriminatin

public.

1.12. THE CRISIS.

[This Oration was delivered before the commencement of the

war.]

On returnin to my humsted in Baldinsville, Injianny, resuntly,

my feller sitterzens extended a invite for me to norate to 'em

on the Krysis. I excepted & on larst Toosday nite I peared be4

a C of upturned faces in the Red Skool House. I spoke nearly

as follers:

Baldinsvillins: Hearto4, as I hav numerously obsarved, I have

abstrained from having any sentimunts or principles, my

pollertics, like my religion, bein of a exceedin accommodatin

character. But the fack can't be no longer disgised that a

Krysis is onto us, & I feel it's my dooty to accept your invite

for one consecutive nite only. I spose the inflammertory

individooals who assisted in projucing this Krysis know what

good she will do, but I ain't 'shamed to state that I don't

scacely. But the Krysis is hear. She's bin hear for sevral

weeks, & Goodness nose how long she'll stay. But I venter to

assert that she's rippin things. She's knockt trade into a

cockt up hat and chaned Bizness of all kinds tighter nor I ever

chaned any of my livin wild Beests. Alow me to hear dygress &

stait that my Beests at presnt is as harmless as the newborn

Babe. Ladys & gentlemen needn't hav no fears on that pint. To

resoom--Altho I can't exactly see what good this Krysis can do,

I can very quick say what the origernal cawz of her is. The

origernal cawz is Our Afrikan Brother. I was into BARNIM'S

Moozeum down to New York the other day & saw that exsentric

Etheopian, the What Is It. Sez I, "Mister What Is It, you

folks air raisin thunder with this grate country. You're

gettin to be ruther more numeris than interestin. It is a pity

you coodent go orf sumwhares by yourselves, & be a nation of

What Is Its, tho' if you'll excoose me, I shooden't care about

marryin among you. No dowt you're exceedin charmin to hum, but

your stile of luvliness isn't adapted to this cold climit. He

larfed into my face, which rather Riled me, as I had been

perfeckly virtoous and respectable in my observashuns. So sez

I, turnin a leetle red in the face, I spect, "Do you hav the

unblushin impoodents to say you folks haven't raised a big mess

of thunder in this brite land, Mister What Is It?" He larfed

agin, wusser nor be4, whareupon I up and sez, "Go home, Sir, to

Afriky's burnin shores & taik all the other What Is Its along

with you. Don't think we can spair your interestin picters.

You What Is Its air on the pint of smashin up the gratest

Guv'ment ever erected by man, & you actooally hav the owdassity

to larf about it. Go home, you low cuss!"

I was workt up to a high pitch, & I proceeded to a Restorator &

cooled orf with some little fishes biled in ile--I b'leeve thay

call 'em sardeens.

Feller Sitterzuns, the Afrikan may be Our Brother. Sevral hily

respectyble gentlemen, and sum talentid females tell us so, &

fur argyment's sake I mite be injooced to grant it, tho' I

don't beleeve it myself. But the Afrikan isn't our sister &

our wife & our uncle. He isn't sevral of our brothers & all

our fust wife's relashuns. He isn't our grandfather, and our

grate grandfather, and our Aunt in the country. Scacely. &

yit numeris persons would have us think so. It's troo he runs

Congress & sevral other public grosserys, but then he ain't

everybody & everybody else likewise. [Notiss to bizness men of

VANITY FAIR: Extry charg fur this larst remark. It's a goak.

--A.W.]

But we've got the Afrikan, or ruther he's got us, & now what

air we going to do about it? He's a orful noosanse. Praps he

isn't to blame fur it. Praps he was creatid fur sum wise

purpuss, like the measles and New Englan Rum, but it's mity

hard to see it. At any rate he's no good here, & as I statid

to Mister What Is It, it's a pity he cooden't go orf sumwhares

quietly by hisself, whare he cood wear red weskits & speckled

neckties, & gratterfy his ambishun in varis interestin wase,

without havin a eternal fuss kickt up about him.

Praps I'm bearin down too hard upon Cuffy. Cum to think on it,

I am. He woodn't be sich a infernal noosanse if white peple

would let him alone. He mite indeed be interestin. And now I

think of it, why can't the white peple let him alone. What's

the good of continnerly stirrin him up with a ten-foot pole?

He isn't the sweetest kind of Perfoomery when in a natral

stait.

Feller Sitterzens, the Union's in danger. The black devil

Disunion is trooly here, starein us all squarely in the face!

We must drive him back. Shall we make a 2nd Mexico of

ourselves? Shall we sell our birthrite for a mess of potash?

Shall one brother put the knife to the throat of anuther

brother? Shall we mix our whisky with each other's blud?

Shall the star spangled Banner be cut up into dishcloths?

Standin here in this here Skoolhouse, upon my nativ shor so to

speak, I anser--Nary!

Oh you fellers who air raisin this row, & who in the fust place

startid it, I'm 'shamed of you. The Showman blushes for you,

from his boots to the topmost hair upon his wenerable hed.

Feller Sitterzens: I am in the Sheer & Yeller leaf. I shall

peg out 1 of these dase. But while I do stop here I shall stay

in the Union. I know not what the supervizers of Baldinsville

may conclude to do, but for one, I shall stand by the Stars &

Stripes. Under no circumstances whatsomever will I sesesh.

Let every Stait in the Union sesesh & let Palmetter flags flote

thicker nor shirts on Square Baxter's close line, still will I

stick to the good old flag. The country may go to the devil,

but I won't! And next Summer when I start out on my campane

with my Show, wharever I pitch my little tent, you shall see

floatin prowdly from the center pole thereof the Amerikan Flag,

with nary a star wiped out, nary a stripe less, but the same

old flag that has allers flotid thar! & the price of admishun

will be the same it allers was--15 cents, children half price.

Feller Sitterzens, I am dun. Accordinly I squatted.

1.13. WAX FIGURES VS. SHAKESPEARE.

ONTO THE WING--1859.

Mr. Editor.

I take my Pen in hand to inform yu that I'm in good helth and

trust these few lines will find yu injoyin the same blessins.

I wood also state that I'm now on the summir kampane. As the

Poit sez--

ime erflote, ime erflote

On the Swift rollin tied

An the Rovir is free.

Bizness is scacely middlin, but Sirs I manige to pay for my

foode and raiment puncktooally and without no grumblin. The

barked arrers of slandur has bin leviled at the undersined

moren onct sins heze bin into the show bizness, but I make bold

to say no man on this footstule kan troothfully say I ever

ronged him or eny of his folks. I'm travelin with a tent,

which is better nor hirin hauls. My show konsists of a serious

of wax works, snakes, a paneramy kalled a Grand Movin Diarea of

the War in the Crymear, komic songs and the Cangeroo, which

larst little cuss continners to konduct hisself in the most

outrajus stile. I started out with the idear of makin my show

a grate Moral Entertainment, but I'm kompeled to sware so much

at that air infurnal Kangeroo that I'm frade this desine will

be flustratid to some extent. And while speakin of morrality,

remines me that sum folks turn up their nosis at shows like

mine, sayin they is low and not fit to be patrernized by

peplpeple of high degree. Sirs, I manetane that this is

infernul nonsense. I manetane that wax figgers is more

elevatin than awl the plays ever wroten. Take Shakespeer for

instunse. Peple think heze grate things, but I kontend heze

quite the reverse to the kontrary. What sort of sense is thare

to King Leer, who goze round cussin his darters, chawin hay and

throin straw at folks, and larfin like a silly old koot and

makin a ass of hisself ginerally? Thare's Mrs. Mackbeth--sheze

a nise kind of woomon to have round ain't she, a puttin old

Mack, her husband, up to slayin Dunkan with a cheeze knife,

while heze payin a frendly visit to their house. O its hily

morral, I spoze, when she larfs wildly and sez, "gin me the

daggurs--Ile let his bowels out," or wurds to that effeck--I

say, this is awl, strickly, propper I spoze? That Jack

Fawlstarf is likewise a immoral old cuss, take him how ye may,

and Hamlick is as crazy as a loon. Thare's Richurd the Three,

peple think heze grate things, but I look upon him in the lite

of a monkster. He kills everybody he takes a noshun to in kold

blud, and then goze to sleep in his tent. Bimeby he wakes up

and yells for a hoss so he kan go orf and kill some more peple.

If he isent a fit spesserman for the gallers then I shood like

to know whare you find um. Thare's Iargo who is more ornery

nor pizun. See how shameful he treated that hily respecterble

injun gentlemun, Mister Otheller, makin him for to beleeve his

wife was too thick with Casheo. Obsarve how Iargo got Casheo

drunk as a biled owl on corn whiskey in order to karry out his

sneekin desines. See how he wurks Mister Otheller's feelins up

so that he goze and makes poor Desdemony swaller a piller which

cawses her deth. But I must stop. At sum futur time I shall

continner my remarks on the drammer in which I shall show the

varst supeeriority of wax figgers and snakes over theater

plays, in a interlectooal pint of view.

Very Respectively yures,

A WARD, T.K.

1.14. AMONG THE FREE LOVERS. (Some queer people, calling

themselves "Free Lovers," and possessing very original ideas

about life and morality, established themselves at Berlin

Heights, in Ohio, a few years since. Public opinion was

resistlessly against them, however, and the association was

soon disbanded.)

Some years ago I pitched my tent and onfurled my banner to the

breeze, in Berlin Hites, Ohio. I had hearn that Berlin Hites

was ockepied by a extensive seck called Free Lovers, who

beleeved in affinertys and sich, goin back on their domestic

ties without no hesitation whatsomever. They was likewise

spirit rappers and high presher reformers on gineral

principles. If I can improve these 'ere misgided peple by

showin them my onparalleld show at the usual low price of

admitants, methunk, I shell not hav lived in vane. But

bitterly did I cuss the day I ever sot foot in the retchid

place. I sot up my tent in a field near the Love Cure, as they

called it, and bimeby the free lovers begun for to congregate

around the door. A onreer set I have never sawn. The men's

faces was all covered with hare and they lookt half-starved to

deth. They didn't wear no weskuts for the purpose (as they

sed) of allowin the free air of hevun to blow onto their

boozums. Their pockets was filled with tracks and pamplits and

they was bare-footed. They sed the Postles didn't wear boots,

& why should they? That was their stile of argyment. The

wimin was wuss than the men. They wore trowsis, short gownds,

straw hats with green ribbins, and all carried bloo cotton

umbrellers.

Presently a perfeckly orful lookin female presented herself at

the door. Her gownd was skanderlusly short and her trowsis was

shameful to behold.

She eyed me over very sharp, and then startin back she sed, in

a wild voice:

"Ah, can it be?"

"Which?" sed I.

"Yes, 'tis troo, O 'tis troo!"

"15 cents, marm," I anserd.

She bust out a cryin & sed:

"And so I hav found you at larst--at larst, O at larst!"

"Yes," I anserd, "you hav found me at larst, and you would hav

found me at fust, if you had cum sooner."

She grabd me vilently by the coat collar, and brandishin her

umbreller wildly round, exclaimed:

"Air you a man?"

Sez I, "I think I air, but if you doubt it, you can address

Mrs. A. Ward, Baldinsville, Injianny, postage pade, & she will

probly giv you the desired informashun."

"Then thou ist what the cold world calls marrid?"

"Madam, I istest!"

The exsentric female then clutched me franticly by the arm and

hollered:

"You air mine, O you air mine!"

"Scacely," I sed, endeverin to git loose from her. But she

clung to me and sed:

"You air my Affinerty!"

"What upon arth is that?" I shouted.

"Dost thou not know?"

"No, I dostent!"

"Listin man, & I'll tell ye!" sed the strange female; "for

years I hav yearned for thee. I knowd thou wast in the world,

sumwhares, tho I didn't know whare. My hart sed he would cum

and I took courage. He HAS cum--he's here--you air him--you

air my Affinerty! O 'tis too mutch! too mutch!" and she sobbed

agin.

"Yes," I anserd, "I think it is a darn site too mutch!"

"Hast thou not yearned for me?" she yelled, ringin her hands

like a female play acter.

"Not a yearn!" I bellerd at the top of my voice, throwin her

away from me.

The free lovers who was standin round obsarvin the scene

commenst for to holler "shame" "beast," etsettery, etsettery.

I was very mutch riled, and fortifyin myself with a spare tent

stake, I addrest them as follers: "You pussylanermus critters,

go way from me and take this retchid woman with you. I'm a

law-abidin man, and beleeve in good, old-fashioned institutions.

I am marrid & my orfsprings resemble me if I am a showman! I

think your Affinity bizniss is cussed noncents, besides bein

outrajusly wicked. Why don't you behave desunt like other

folks? Go to work and earn a honist livin and not stay round

here in this lazy, shiftless way, pizenin the moral atmosphere

with your pestifrous ideas! You wimin folks go back to your

lawful husbands if you've got any, and take orf them skanderlous

gownds and trowsis, and dress respectful like other wimin. You

men folks, cut orf them pirattercal whiskers, burn up them

infurnel pamplits, put sum weskuts on, go to work choppin wood,

splittin fence rales, or tillin the sile." I pored 4th my

indignashun in this way till I got out of breth, when I stopt.

I shant go to Berlin Hites agin, not if I live to be as old

as Methooseler.

1.15. A VISIT TO BRIGHAM YOUNG.

It is now goin on 2 (too) yeres, as I very well remember, since

I crossed the Planes for Kaliforny, the Brite land of Jold.

While crossin the Planes all so bold I fell in with sum noble

red men of the forest (N.B. This is rote Sarcasticul. Injins

is Pizin, whar ever found,) which thay Sed I was their Brother,

& wanted for to smoke the Calomel of Peace with me. Thay then

stole my jerkt beef, blankits, etsettery, skalpt my orgin

grinder & scooted with a Wild Hoop. Durin the Cheaf's techin

speech he sed he shood meet me in the Happy Huntin Grounds. If

he duz thare will be a fite. But enuff of this ere. "Reven

Noose Muttons," as our skoolmaster, who has got Talent into

him, cussycally obsarve.

I arrove at Salt Lake in doo time. At Camp Scott there was a

lot of U.S. sogers, hosstensibly sent out there to smash the

Mormons but really to eat Salt vittles & play poker & other

beautiful but sumwhat onsartin games. I got acquainted with

sum of the officers. Thay lookt putty scrumpshus in their

Bloo coats with brass buttings onto um & ware very talented

drinkers, but so fur as fitin is consarned I'd willingly put my

wax figgers agin the hull party.

My desire was to exhibit my grate show in Salt Lake City, so I

called on Brigham Yung, the grate mogull amung the mormins and

axed his permishun to pitch my tent and onfurl my banner to the

jentle breezis. He lookt at me in a austeer manner for a few

minits, and sed:

"Do you bleeve in Solomon, Saint Paul, the immaculateness of

the Mormin Church and the Latter-day Revelashuns?"

Sez I, "I'm on it!" I make it a pint to git along plesunt, tho

I didn't know what under the Son the old feller was drivin at.

He sed I mite show.

"You air a marrid man, Mister Yung, I bleeve?" sez I, preparin

to rite him sum free parsis.

"I hev eighty wives, Mister Ward. I sertinly am married."

"How do you like it as far as you hev got?" sed I.

He sed "middlin," and axed me wouldn't I like to see his

famerly, to which I replide that I wouldn't mine minglin with

the fair Seck & Barskin in the winnin smiles of his interestin

wives. He accordingly tuk me to his Scareum. The house is

powerful big & in a exceedin large room was his wives &

children, which larst was squawkin and hollerin enuff to take

the roof rite orf the house. The wimin was of all sizes and

ages. Sum was pretty & sum was Plane--sum was helthy and sum

was on the Wayne--which is verses, tho sich was not my

intentions, as I don't 'prove of puttin verses in Proze

rittins, tho ef occashun requires I can Jerk a Poim ekal to any

of them Atlantic Munthly fellers.

"My wives, Mister Ward," sed Yung.

"Your sarvant, marms," sed I, as I sot down in a cheer which a

red-heded female brawt me.

"Besides these wives you see here, Mister Ward," sed Yung, "I

hav eighty more in varis parts of this consecrated land which

air Sealed to me."

"Which?" sez I, gittin up & starin at him.

"Sealed, Sir! sealed."

"Whare bowts?" sez I.

"I sed, Sir, that they was sealed!" He spoke in a traggerdy

voice.

"Will they probly continner on in that stile to any grate

extent, Sir?" I axed.

"Sir," sed he, turnin as red as a biled beet, "don't you know

that the rules of our Church is that I, the Profit, may hev as

meny wives as I wants?"

"Jes so," I sed. "You are old pie, ain't you?"

"Them as is Sealed to me--that is to say, to be mine when I

wants um--air at present my sperretooul wives," sed Mister

Yung.

"Long may thay wave!" sez I, seein I shood git into a scrape ef

I didn't look out.

In a privit conversashun with Brigham I learnt the follerin

fax: It takes him six weeks to kiss his wives. He don't do it

only onct a yere & sez it is wuss nor cleanin house. He don't

pretend to know his children, thare is so many of um, tho they

all know him. He sez about every child he meats call him Par,

& he takes it for grantid it is so. His wives air very

expensiv. Thay allers want suthin & ef he don't buy it for um

thay set the house in a uproar. He sez he don't have a minit's

peace. His wives fite amung their selves so much that he has

bilt a fitin room for thare speshul benefit, & when too of 'em

get into a row he has em turnd loose into that place, whare the

dispoot is settled accordin to the rules of the London prize

ring. Sum times thay abooz hisself individooally. Thay hev

pulled the most of his hair out at the roots & he wares meny a

horrible scar upon his body, inflicted with mop-handles,

broom-sticks, and sich. Occashunly they git mad & scald him

with bilin hot water. When he got eny waze cranky thay'd shut

him up in a dark closit, previsly whippin him arter the stile

of muthers when thare orfsprings git onruly. Sumptimes when he

went in swimmin thay'd go to the banks of the Lake & steal all

his close, thereby compellin him to sneek home by a sircootius

rowt, drest in the Skanderlus stile of the Greek Slaiv. "I

find that the keers of a marrid life way hevy onto me," sed the

Profit, "& sumtimes I wish I'd remaned singel." I left the

Profit and startid for the tavern whare I put up to. On my way

I was overtuk by a lurge krowd of Mormons, which they

surroundid me & statid that they were goin into the Show free.

"Wall," sez I, "ef I find a individooal who is goin round

lettin folks into his show free, I'll let you know."

"We've had a Revelashun biddin us go into A. Wards's Show

without payin nothin!" thay showtid.

"Yes," hollered a lot of femaile Mormonesses, ceasin me by the

cote tales & swingin me round very rapid, "we're all goin in

free! So sez the Revelashun!"

"What's Old Revelashun got to do with my show?" sez I, gittin

putty rily. "Tell Mister Revelashun," sed I, drawin myself up

to my full hite and lookin round upon the ornery krowd with a

prowd & defiant mean, "tell Mister Revelashun to mind his own

bizness, subject only to the Konstitushun of the United

States!"

"Oh now let us in, that's a sweet man," sed several femails,

puttin thare arms round me in luvin style. "Become 1 of us.

Becum a Preest & hav wives Sealed to you."

"Not a Seal!" sez I, startin back in horror at the idee.

"Oh stay, Sir, stay," sed a tell, gawnt femaile, ore whoos hed

37 summirs must hev parsd, "stay, & I'll be your Jentle

Gazelle."

"Not ef I know it, you won't," sez I. "Awa you skanderlus

femaile, awa! Go & be a Nunnery!" THAT'S WHAT I SED, JES SO.

"& I," sed a fat chunky femaile, who must hev wade more than

too hundred lbs, "I will be your sweet gidin Star!"

Sez I, "Ile bet two dollers and a half you won't!" Whare ear I

may Rome Ile still be troo 2 thee, Oh Betsy Jane! [N.B. Betsy

Jane is my wife's Sir naime.]

"Wiltist thou not tarry here in the promist Land?" sed several

of the miserabil critters.

"Ile see you all essenshally cussed be4 I wiltist!" roared I,

as mad as I cood be at thare infernul noncents. I girdid up my

Lions & fled the Seen. I packt up my duds & Left Salt Lake,

which is a 2nd Soddum & Germorrer, inhabitid by as theavin &

onprincipled a set of retchis as ever drew Breth in eny spot on

the Globe.

1.16. SCANDALOUS DOINGS AT PITTSBURG.

Hear in the Buzzum of my famerly I am enjoyin myself, at peas

with awl mankind and the wimin folks likewise. I go down to

the villige ockashunly and take a little old Rye fur the

stummuck's sake, but I avoyd spiritus lickers as a ginral

thing. No man evir seen me intossikated but onct, and that air

happind in Pittsburg. A parsel of ornery cusses in that luvly

sity bustid inter the hawl durin the nite and aboosed my wax

works shaimful. I didn't obsarve the outrajus transacshuns

ontil the next evening when the peple begun for to kongregate.

Suddinly they kommensed fur to larf and holler in a boysterious

stile. Sez I good peple what's up? Sez thay them's grate wax

wurks, isn't they, old man. I immejitly looked up ter whare

the wax works was, and my blud biles as I think of the site

which then met my Gase. I hope two be dodrabbertid (Dod-rabit

is an American euphemism for a profane expression which is

quite as common in this country as on the other side of the

Atlantic.) if them afoursed raskals hadent gone and put a old

kaved in hat onter George Washington's hed and shuved a short

black klay pipe inter his mouth. His noze thay had painted red

and his trowsis legs thay had shuved inside his butes. My wax

figger of Napoleon Boneypart was likewise mawltreatid. His

sword wus danglin tween his legs, and his cockd hat was drawn

klean down over his ize, and he was plased in a stoopin

posishun lookin zactly as tho he was as drunk as a biled owl.

Ginral Taylor was a standin on his hed and Wingfield Skott's

koat tales ware pind over his hed and his trowsis ware

kompleetly torn orf frum hisself. My wax works representin the

Lord's Last Supper was likewise aboozed. Three of the Postles

ware under the table and two of um had on old tarpawlin hats

and raggid pee jackits and ware smokin pipes. Judus Iskarriot

had on a cocked hat and was appeerently drinkin, as a Bottle of

whisky sot befour him. This ere specktercal was too much fur

me. I klosed the show and then drowndid my sorrers in the

flowin Bole.

1.17. THE CENSUS.

The Sences taker in our town bein taken sick, he deppertised me

to go out for him one day, and as he was too ill to giv me

informashun how to perceed, I was consekently compelled to go

it blind. Sittin down by the road side, I drawd up the

follerin list of questions, which I proposed to ax the peple I

visited:

Wat's your age?

Whar was you born?

Air you marrid, and if so how do you like it?

How many children hav you, and do they resemble you or your

naber?

Did you ever hav the measels, and if so how many?

Hav you a twin brother several years older than yourself?

How many parents hav you?

Do you read Watt's Hims regler?

Do you use boughten tobacker?

(I.e., that which has been bought. A very common word in the

interior of New England and New York. It is applied to

articles purchased from the shops, to distinguish them from

articles of home manufacture. Many farmers make their own

sugar from the maple-tree, and their coffee from barley or rye.

West India sugar or coffee is then called "boughten sugar," &c.

"This is a home-made carpet; that a 'boughten' one," i.e., one

bought at a shop. In the North of England, baker's bread is

called "bought bread."

Wat's your fitin wate?

Air you trubeld with biles?

How does your meresham culler?

State whether you air blind, deaf, idiotic, or got the

heaves?

Do you know any Opry singers, and if so how much do they owe

you?

What's the average of virtoo on the Ery Canawl?

If 4 barrils of Emptins pored onto a barn floor will kiver

it, how many plase can Dion Bourcicault write in a year?

[Emptyings, pronounced "emptins," the lees of beer, cider, &c.;

yeast or anything by which bread is leavened:-

"'Twill take more emptins, by a long chalk, than this new

party's got,

To give such heavy cakes as these a start, I tell ye what."

"The Biglow Papers."]

Is Beans a regler article of diet in your family?

How many chickins hav you, on foot and in the shell?

Air you aware that Injianny whisky is used in New York

shootin galrys instid of pistols, and that it shoots furthest?

Was you ever at Niagry Falls?

Was you ever in the Penitentiary?

State how much pork, impendin crysis, Dutch cheeze, popler

suvrinty, standard poetry, children's strainers, slave code,

catnip, red flannel, ancient history, pickled tomaters, old

junk, perfoomery, coal ile, liberty, hoop skirt, &c., you hav

on hand?

But it didn't work. I got into a row at the fust house I stopt

to, with some old maids. Disbelieven the ansers they giv in

regard to their ages, I endevered to open their mouths and look

at their teeth, same as they do with hosses, but they floo into

a vilent rage and tackled me with brooms and sich. Takin the

sences requires experiunse, like any other bizniss.

1.18. AN HONEST LIVING.

I was on my way from the mines to San Francisco, with a light

puss and a hevy hart. You'd scacely hav recognized my fair

form, so kiverd was I with dust. Bimeby I met Old Poodles, the

all-firdist gambler in the country. He was afoot and in his

shirt-sleeves, and was in a wuss larther nor any race hoss I

ever saw. ("All-fired," enormous, excessive, a low Americanism,

not improbably a puritanical corruption of "hell-fired,"

designed to have the virtue of an oath without offending polite

ears.)

"Whither goist thow, sweet nimp?" sez I, in a play-actin tone.

"To the mines, Sir," he unto me did say, "to the mines, TO EARN

AN HONEST LIVIN."

Thinks I that air aint very cool, I guess, and druv on.

1.19. THE PRESS.

I want the editers to cum to my Show free as the flours of May,

but I don't want um to ride a free hoss to deth. Thare is

times when Patience seizes to be virtoous. I had "in my mind's

eye, Hurrashio" (cotashun from Hamlick) sum editers in a sertin

town which shall be nameless, who air Both sneakin and ornery.

They cum in krowds to my Show and then axt me ten sents a line

for Puffs. I objectid to payin, but they sed ef I didn't down

with the dust thay'd wipe my Show from the face of the earth!

Thay sed the Press was the Arkymedian Leaver which moved the

wurld. I put up to their extorshuns until thay'd bled me so I

was a meer shadder, and left in disgust.

It was in a surtin town in Virginny, the Muther of Presidents &

things, that I was shaimfully aboozed by a editor in human

form. He set my Show up steep & kalled me the urbane &

gentlemunly manajer, but when I, fur the purpuss of showin fair

play all around, went to anuther offiss to git my hanbills

printed, what duz this pussillanermus editer do but change his

toon & abooze me like a Injun. He sed my wax wurks was a

humbug & called me a horey-heded itinerent vagabone. I thort

at fust Ide pollish him orf ar-lar the Beneshy Boy, but on

reflectin that he cood pollish me much wuss in his paper, I giv

it up. & I wood here take occashun to advise peple when thay

run agin, as thay sumtimes will, these miserable papers, to not

pay no attenshun to um. Abuv all, don't assault a editer of

this kind. It only gives him a notorosity, which is jest what

he wants, & don't do you no more good than it wood to jump into

enny other mud puddle. Editers are generally fine men, but

there must be black sheep in every flock.

1.20. EDWIN FOREST AS OTHELLO.

Durin a recent visit to New York the undersined went to see

Edwin Forrest. As I'm into the moral show bizness myself, I

ginrally go to Barnum's moral Museum, where only moral peple

air admitted, pertickly on Wednesday arternoons. But this time

I thot I'd go & see Ed. Ed has bin actin out on the stage for

many years. There is varis 'pinions about his actin,

Englishmen ginrally bleevin that he is far superior to Mister

Macready; but on one pint all agree, & that is that Ed draws

like a six ox team. Ed was actin at Niblo's Garding, which

looks considerable more like a parster, than a garding, but let

that pars. I sot down in the pit, took out my spectacles &

commenced peroosin the evenin's bill. The awjince was all-fired

large & the boxes was full of the elitty of New York. Several

opery glasses was leveld at me by Gothum's farest darters, but

I didn't let on as tho I noticed it, tho mebby I did take out

my sixteen-dollar silver watch & brandish it round more than was

necessary. But the best of us has our weaknesses & if a man has

gewelry let him show it. As I was peroosin the bill a grave

young man who sot near me axed me if I'd ever seen Forrest dance

the Essence of Old Virginny? "He's immense in that," sed the

young man. "He also does a fair champion jig," the young man

continnerd, "but his Big Thing is the Essence of Old Virginny."

Sez I, "Fair youth, do you know what I'd do with you if you was

my sun?"

"No," sez he.

"Wall," sez I, "I'd appint your funeral tomorrow arternoon, &

the KORPS SHOULD BE READY! You're too smart to live on this

yearth." He didn't try any more of his capers on me. But

another pussylanermus individooul, in a red vest & patent

lether boots, told me his name was Bill Astor & axed me to lend

him 50 cents till early in the mornin. I told him I'd probly

send it round to him before he retired to his virtoous couch,

but if I didn't he might look for it next fall, as soon as I

cut my corn. The Orchestry was now fiddling with all their

might, & as the peple didn't understan anything about it they

applaudid versifrussly. Presently, Old Ed cum out. The play

was Otheller or More of Veniss. Otheller was writ by Wm.

Shakspeer. The scene is laid in Veniss. Otheller was a likely

man & was a ginral in the Veniss army. He eloped with Desdemony,

a darter of the Hon. Mister Brabantio, who represented one of

the back districks in the Veneshun legislater. Old Brabantio

was as mad as thunder at this & tore round considerable, but

finally cooled down, tellin Otheller, howsever, that Desdemony

had come it over her Par, & that he had better look out or

she'd come it over him likewise. Mr. & Mrs. Otheller git along

very comfortable like for a spell. She is sweet-tempered and

luvin--a nice, sensible female, never goin in for he-female

conventions, green cotton umbrellers, and pickled beats.

Otheller is a good provider and thinks all the world of his

wife. She has a lazy time of it, the hired girl doin all the

cookin and washin. Desdemony, in fact, don't have to git the

water to wash her own hands with. But a low cuss named Iago,

who I bleeve wants to git Otheller out of his snug government

birth, now goes to work & upsets the Otheller family in the

most outrajus stile. Iago falls in with a brainless youth

named Roderigo & wins all his money at poker. (Iago allers

played foul.) He thus got money enuff to carry out his

onprincipled skeem. Mike Cassio, a Irishman, is selected as a

tool by Iago. Mike was a clever feller & orficer in Otheller's

army. He liked his tods too well, howsever, & they floored

him, as they have many other promisin young men. Iago injuces

Mike to drink with him, Iago slyly throwin his whiskey over his

shoulder. Mike gits as drunk as a biled owl & allows that he

can lick a yard full of the Veneshun fancy before breakfast,

without sweatin a hair. He meets Roderigo & proceeds for to

smash him. A feller named Montano undertakes to slap Cassio,

when that infatooated person runs his sword into him. That

miserble man, Iago, pretents to be very sorry to see Mike

conduck hisself in this way & undertakes to smooth the thing

over to Otheller, who rushes in with a drawn sword & wants to

know what's up. Iago cunningly tells his story, & Otheller

tells Mike that he thinks a good deal of him, but he can't

train no more in his regiment. Desdemony sympathizes with poor

Mike & interceeds for him with Otheller. Iago makes him bleeve

she does this because she thinks more of Mike than she does of

hisself. Otheller swallers Iago's lyin tail & goes to makin a

noosence of hisself ginrally. He worries poor Desdemony

terrible by his vile insinuations, & finally smothers her to

deth with a piller. Mrs. Iago cums in just as Otheller has

finished the fowl deed & givs him fits right & left, showin him

that he has bin orfully gulled by her miserble cuss of a

husband. Iago cums in, & his wife commences rakin him down

also, when he stabs her. Otheller jaws him a spell & then cuts

a small hole in his stummick with his sword. Iago pints to

Desdemony's deth bed & goes orf with a sardonic smile onto his

countenance. Otheller tells the peple that he has dun the

state sum service & they know it; axes them to do as fair a

thing as they can for him under the circumstances, & kills

hisself with a fish-knife, which is the most sensible thing he

can do. This is a breef skedule of the synopsis of the play.

Edwin Forrest is a grate acter. I thot I saw Otheller before

me all the time he was actin, & when the curtin fell, I found

my spectacles was still mistened with salt-water, which had run

from my eyes while poor Desdemony was dyin. Betsy Jane--Betsy

Jane! let us pray that our domestic bliss may never be busted

up by a Iago!

Edwin Forrest makes money actin out on the stage. He gits

five-hundred dollars a nite & his board & washin. I wish I had

such a Forrest in my Garding!

1.21. THE SHOW BUSINESS AND POPULAR LECTURES.

I feel that the Show Bizniss, which Ive stroven to ornyment, is

bein usurpt by Poplar Lecturs, as thay air kalled, tho in my

pinion thay air poplar humbugs. Individoouls, who git hard up,

embark in the lecturin biznis. They cram theirselves with

hi-sounding frazis, frizzle up their hare, git trustid for a soot

of black close & cum out to lectur at 50 dollers a pop. Thay

aint over stockt with branes, but thay hav brass enuff to make

suffishunt kittles to bile all the sope that will be required

by the ensooin sixteen ginerashuns. Peple flock to heer um in

krowds. The men go becawz its poplar & the wimin folks go to

see what other wimin folks have on. When its over the lecturer

goze & ragales hisself with oysters and sich, while the peple

say, "What a charmin lectur that air was," etsettery,

etsettery, when 9 out of 10 of um don't have no moore idee of

what the lecturer sed than my kangeroo has of the sevunth speer

of hevun. Thare's moore infurmashun to be gut out of a well

conductid noospaper--price 3 sents--than thare is out of ten

poplar lectures at 25 or 50 dollers a pop, as the kase may be.

These same peple, bare in mind, stick up their nosis at moral

wax figgers & sagashus beests. Thay say these things is low.

Gents, it greeves my hart in my old age, when I'm in "the Sheer

& yeller leef" (to cote frum my Irish frend Mister McBeth) to

see that the Show biznis is pritty much plade out; howsomever I

shall chance it agane in the Spring.

1.22. WOMAN'S RIGHTS.

I pitcht my tent in a small town in Injianny one day last

seeson, & while I was standin at the dore takin money, a

deppytashun of ladies came up & sed they wos members of the

Bunkumville Female Moral Reformin & Wimin's Rite's Associashun,

and thay axed me if they cood go in without payin.

"Not exactly," sez I, "but you can pay without goin in."

"Dew you know who we air?" sed one of the wimin--a tall and

feroshus lookin critter, with a blew kotton umbreller under her

arm--"do you know who we air, Sir?"

"My impreshun is," sed I, "from a kersery view, that you air

females."

"We air, Sur," sed the feroshus woman--"we belong to a Society

whitch beleeves wimin has rites--whitch beleeves in razin her

to her proper speer--whitch beleeves she is indowed with as

much intelleck as man is--whitch beleeves she is trampled on

and aboozed--& who will resist henso4th & forever the

incroachments of proud & domineering men."

Durin her discourse, the exsentric female grabed me by the

coat-kollor & was swinging her umbreller wildly over my hed.

"I hope, marm," sez I, starting back, "that your intensions is

honorable! I'm a lone man hear in a strange place. Besides,

I've a wife to hum."

"Yes," cried the female, "& she's a slave! Doth she never

dream of freedom--doth she never think of throwin off the yoke

of tyrrinny & thinkin & votin for herself?--Doth she never

think of these here things?"

"Not bein a natral born fool," sed I, by this time a little

riled, "I kin safely say that she dothunt."

"Oh whot--whot!" screamed the female, swingin her umbreller in

the air.--"O, what is the price that woman pays for her

expeeriunce!"

"I don't know," sez I; "the price of my show is 15 cents pur

individooal."

"& can't our Soisety go in free?" asked the female.

"Not if I know it," sed I.

"Crooil, crooil man!" she cried, & bust into teers.

"Won't you let my darter in?" sed anuther of the exsentric

wimin, taken me afeckshunitely by the hand. "O, please let my

darter in,--shee's a sweet gushin child of natur."

"Let her gush!" roared I, as mad as I cood stick at their

tarnal nonsense; "let her gush!" Where upon they all sprung

back with the simultanious observashun that I was a Beest.

"My female friends," sed I, "be4 you leeve, I've a few remarks

to remark; wa them well. The female woman is one of the

greatest institooshuns of which this land can boste. Its

onpossible to get along without her. Had there bin no female

wimin in the world, I should scarcely be here with my

unparalleld show on this very occashun. She is good in

sickness--good in wellness--good all the time. O woman,

woman!" I cried, my feelins worked up to a hi poetick pitch,

"you air a angle when you behave yourself; but when you take

off your proper appairel & (mettyforically speaken)--get into

pantyloons--when you desert your firesides, & with your heds

full of wimin's rites noshuns go round like roarin lions,

seekin whom you may devour someboddy--in short, when you

undertake to play the man, you play the devil and air an

emfatic noosance. My female friends," I continnered, as they

were indignantly departin, "wa well what A. Ward has sed!"

1.23. WOULD-BE SEA DOGS.

Sum of the captings on the Upper Ohio River put on a heep of

airs. To hear 'em git orf saler lingo you'd spose they'd bin

on the briny Deep for a lifetime, when the fact is they haint

tasted salt water since they was infants, when they had to take

it for WORMS. Still they air good natered fellers, and when

they drink they take a dose big enuff for a grown person.

1.24. THE PRINCE OF WALES.

To my friends of the Editorial Corpse:

I rite these lines on British sile. I've bin follerin Mrs.

Victory's hopeful sun Albert Edward threw Kanady with my

onparaleled Show, and tho I haint made much in a pecoonary pint

of vew, I've lernt sumthin new, over hear on British Sile,

whare they bleeve in Saint George and the Dragoon. Previs to

cumin over hear I tawt my organist how to grind Rule Brittany

and other airs which is poplar on British Sile. I likewise

fixt a wax figger up to represent Sir Edmun Hed the Govner

Ginral. The statoot I fixt up is the most versytile wax

statoot I ever saw. I've showd it as Wm. Penn, Napoleon

Bonypart, Juke of Wellington, the Beneker Boy, Mrs. Cunningham

& varis other notid persons, and also for a sertin pirut named

Hix. I've bin so long amung wax statoots that I can fix 'em up

to soot the tastes of folks, & with sum paints I hav I kin giv

their facis a beneverlent or fiendish look as the kase

requires. I giv Sir Edmun Hed a beneverlent look, & when sum

folks who thawt they was smart sed it didn't look like Sir

Edmun Hed anymore than it did anybody else, I sed, "That's the

pint. That's the beauty of the Statoot. It looks like Sir

Edmun Hed or any other man. You may kall it what you pleese.

Ef it don't look like anybody that ever lived, then it's

sertinly a remarkable Statoot & well worth seein. _I_ kall it

Sir Edmun Hed. YOU may kall it what you pleese!" [I had 'em

thare.]

At larst I've had a interview with the Prince, tho it putty

nigh cost me my vallerble life. I cawt a glimpse of him as he

sot on the Pizarro of the hotel in Sarnia, & elbowd myself

threw a crowd of wimin, children, sojers & Injins that was

hangin round the tavern. I was drawin near to the Prince when

a red-faced man in Millingtery close grabd holt of me and axed

me whare I was goin all so bold?

"To see Albert Edard the Prince of Wales," sez I; "who are

you?"

He sed he was Kurnel of the Seventy Fust Regiment, Her

Magisty's troops. I told him I hoped the Seventy Onesters was

in good helth, and was passin by when he ceased hold of me

agin, and sed in a tone of indigent cirprise:

"What? Impossible! It kannot be! Blarst my hize, sir, did I

understan you to say that you was actooally goin into the

presents of his Royal Iniss?"

"That's what's the matter with me," I replide.

"But blarst my hize, sir, its onprecedented. It's orful, sir.

Nothin' like it hain't happened sins the Gun Powder Plot of Guy

Forks. Owdashus man, who air you?"

"Sir," sez I, drawin myself up & puttin on a defiant air, "I'm

a Amerycan sitterzen. My name is Ward. I'm a husband & the

father of twins, which I'm happy to state thay look like me.

By perfeshun I'm a exhibiter of wax works & sich."

"Good God!" yelled the Kurnal, "the idee of a exhibiter of wax

figgers goin into the presents of Royalty! The British Lion

may well roar with raje at the thawt!"

Sez I, "Speakin of the British Lion, Kurnal, I'd like to make a

bargin with you fur that beast fur a few weeks to add to my

Show." I didn't meen nothin by this. I was only gettin orf a

goak, but you roter hev seen the Old Kurnal jump up & howl. He

actooally fomed at the mowth.

"This can't be real," he showtid. "No, no. It's a horrid

dream. Sir, you air not a human bein--you hav no existents--

yure a Myth!"

"Wall," sez I, "old hoss, yule find me a ruther onkomfortable

Myth ef you punch my inards in that way agin." I began to git

a little riled, fur when he called me a Myth he puncht me putty

hard. The Kurnal now commenst showtin fur the Seventy Onesters.

I at fust thawt I'd stay & becum a Marter to British Outraje,

as sich a course mite git my name up & be a good advertisement

fur my Show, but it occurred to me that ef enny of the Seventy

Onesters shood happen to insert a barronet into my stummick it

mite be onplesunt, & I was on the pint of runnin orf when the

Prince hisself kum up & axed me what the matter was. Sez I,

"Albert Edard, is that you?" & he smilt & sed it was. Sez I,

"Albert Edard, hears my keerd. I cum to pay my respecks to

the futer King of Ingland. The Kurnal of the Seventy Onesters

hear is ruther smawl pertaters, but of course you ain't to blame

fur that. He puts on as many airs as tho he was the Bully Boy

with the glass eye."

"Never mind," sez Albert Edard, "I'm glad to see you, Mister

Ward, at all events," & he tuk my hand so plesunt like & larfed

so sweet that I fell in love with him to onct. He handid me a

segar & we sot down on the Pizarro & commenst smokin rite

cheerful. "Wall," sez I, "Albert Edard, how's the old folks?"

"Her Majesty & the Prince are well," he sed.

"Duz the old man take his Lager beer reglar?" I inquired.

The Prince larfed & intermatid that the old man didn't let many

kegs of that bevridge spile in the sellar in the coarse of a

year. We sot & tawked there sum time abowt matters & things, &

bimeby I axed him how he liked bein Prince as fur as he'd got.

"To speak plain, Mister Ward," he sed, "I don't much like it.

I'm sick of all this bowin & scrapin & crawlin & hurrain over a

boy like me. I would rather go through the country quietly &

enjoy myself in my own way, with the other boys, & not be made

a Show of to be garped at by everybody. When the PEPLE cheer me

I feel pleesed, fur I know they meen it; but if these one-horse

offishuls cood know how I see threw all their moves & understan

exackly what they air after, & knowd how I larft at 'em in

private, thayd stop kissin my hands & fawnin over me as thay now

do. But you know, Mr. Ward, I can't help bein a Prince, & I

must do all I kin to fit myself fur the persishun I must sumtime

ockepy."

"That's troo," sez I; "sickness and the docters will carry the

Queen orf one of these dase, sure's yer born."

The time hevin arove fur me to take my departer I rose up &

sed: "Albert Edard, I must go, but previs to doin so I will

obsarve that you soot me. Yure a good feller, Albert Edard, &

tho I'm agin Princes as a gineral thing, I must say I like the

cut of your Gib. When you git to be King try and be as good a

man as yure muther has bin! Be just & be Jenerus, espeshully

to showmen, who hav allers bin aboozed sins the dase of Noah,

who was the fust man to go into the Menagery bizniss, & ef the

daily papers of his time air to be beleeved Noah's colleckshun

of livin wild beests beet ennything ever seen sins, tho I make

bold to dowt ef his snaiks was ahead of mine. Albert Edard,

adoo!" I tuk his hand which he shook warmly, & givin him a

perpetooal free pars to my show, & also parses to take hum for

the Queen & old Albert, I put on my hat and walkt away.

"Mrs. Ward," I solilerquized, as I walkt along, "Mrs. Ward, ef

you could see your husband now, just as he prowdly emerjis from

the presunts of the futur King of Ingland, you'd be sorry you

called him a Beest jest becaws he cum home tired 1 nite and

wantid to go to bed without takin orf his boots. You'd be

sorry for tryin to deprive yure husband of the priceliss Boon

of liberty, Betsy Jane!"

Jest then I met a long perseshun of men with gownds onto 'em.

The leader was on horseback, & ridin up to me he sed, "Air you

Orange?"

Sez I, "Which?"

"Air you a Orangeman?" he repeated, sternly.

"I used to peddle lemins," sed I, "but I never delt in oranges.

They are apt to spile on yure hands. What particler Loonatic

Asylum hev you & yure frends escaped frum, ef I may be so

bold?" Just then a suddent thawt struck me & I sed, "Oh yure

the fellers who air worryin the Prince so & givin the Juke of

Noocastle cold sweats at nite, by yure infernal catawalins, air

you? Wall, take the advice of a Amerykin sitterzen, take orf

them gownds & don't try to get up a religious fite, which is 40

times wuss nor a prize fite, over Albert Edard, who wants to

receive you all on a ekal footin, not keerin a tinker's cuss

what meetin house you sleep in Sundays. Go home & mind yure

bisness & not make noosenses of yourselves." With which

observashuns I left 'em.

I shall leeve British sile 4thwith.

1.25. PICCOLOMINI.

Gents,--I arroved in Cleveland on Saturday P.M. from

Baldinsville jest in time to fix myself up and put on a clean

biled rag to attend Miss Picklehomony's grate musical sorry at

the Melodeon. The krowds which pored into the hall augured

well for the show bizniss, & with cheerful sperrets I jined the

enthoosiastic throng. I asked Mr. Strakhosh at the door if he

parst the perfession, and he sed not much he didn't, whereupon

I bawt a preserved seat in the pit, & obsarving to Mr.

Strakhosh that he needn't put on so many French airs becawz he

run with a big show, and that he'd better let his weskut out a

few inches or perhaps he'd bust hisself some fine day, I went

in and squatted down. It was a sad thawt to think that in all

that vast aujience Scacely a Sole had the honor of my

acquaintance. "& this ere," sed I Bitturly, "is Fame! What

sigerfy my wax figgers and livin wild beasts (which have no

ekels) to these peple? What do thay care becawz a site of my

Kangeroo is worth dubble the price of admission, and that my

Snaiks is as harmlis as the new born babe--all of which is

strictly troo?" I should have gone on ralein at Fortin and

things sum more, but jest then Signer Maccarony cum out and

sung a hairey from some opry or other. He had on his store

close & looked putty slick, I must say. Nobody didn't

understand nothin abowt what he sed, and so they applawdid him

versiferusly. Then Signer Brignoly cum out and sung another

hairey. He appeared to be in a Pensiv Mood & sung a Luv song I

suppose, tho he may have been cussin the aujince all into a

heep for aut I knewd. Then cum Mr. Maccarony agin and Miss

Picklehomony herself. Thay sang a Doit together.

Now you know, gents, that I don't admire opry music. But I

like Miss Picklehomony's stile. I like her gate. She suits

me. There has bin grater singers and there has bin more

bootiful wimin, but no more fassinatin young female ever longed

for a new gown, or side to place her hed agin a vest pattern

than Maria Picklehomony. Fassinatin peple is her best holt.

She was born to make hash of men's buzzums & other wimin mad

becawz thay ain't Picklehomonies. Her face sparkles with

amuzin cussedness & about 200 (two hundred) little bit of funny

devils air continually dancing champion jigs in her eyes, sed

eyes bein brite enuff to lite a pipe by. How I shood like to

have little Maria out on my farm in Baldinsville, Injianny, whare

she cood run in the tall grass, wrastle with the boys, cut up

strong at parin bees, make up faces behind the minister's back,

tie auction bills to the skoolmaster's coat-tales, set all the

fellers crazy after her, & holler & kick up, & go it just as

much as she wanted to! But I diegress. Every time she cum

canterin out I grew more and more delighted with her. When she

bowed her hed I bowed mine. When she powtid her lips I powtid

mine. When she larfed I larfed. When she jerked her hed back

and took a larfin survey of the aujience, sendin a broadside of

sassy smiles in among em, I tried to unjint myself & kollapse.

When, in tellin how she drempt she lived in Marble Halls, she

sed it tickled her more than all the rest to dream she loved

her feller still the same, I made a effort to swaller myself;

but when, in the next song, she look strate at me & called me

her Dear, I wildly told the man next to me he mite hav my close,

as I shood never want 'em again no more in this world. [The

"Plain Dealer" (The Cleveland "Plain Dealer," a well-known

Ohio newspaper, to which Mr. Artemus Ward wishes us to

understand he contributed.) containin this communicashun is

not to be sent to my famerly in Baldinsville under no

circumstances whatsomever.]

In conclushun, Maria, I want you to do well. I know you air a

nice gal at hart & you must get a good husband. He must be a man

of branes and gumpshun & a good provider--a man who will luv you

strong and long--a man who will luv you jest as much in your old

age, when your voice is cracked like an old tea kittle & you can't

get 1 of your notes discounted at 50 per sent a month, as he will

now, when you are young & charmin & full of music, sunshine & fun.

Don't marry a snob, Maria. You ain't a Angel, Maria, & I am glad

of it. When I see angels in pettycoats I'm always sorry they

hain't got wings so they kin quietly fly off whare thay will be

appreshiated. You air a woman, & a mity good one too. As for

Maccarony, Brignoly, Mullenholler, and them other fellers, they can

take care of theirselves. Old Mac. kin make a comfortable livin

choppin cord wood if his voice ever givs out, and Amodio looks as

tho he mite succeed in conductin sum quiet toll gate, whare the

vittles would be plenty & the labor lite.

I am preparin for the Summer Campane. I shall stay in Cleveland a

few days and probly you will hear from me again ear I leave to once

more becum a tosser on life's tempestuous billers, meanin the Show

Bizniss.--Very Respectively Yours,

Artemus Ward.

1.26. LITTLE PATTI.

The moosic which Ime most use to is the inspirin stranes of the

hand orgin. I hire a artistic Italyun to grind fur me, payin him

his vittles & close, & I spose it was them stranes which fust put a

moosical taste into me. Like all furriners, he had seen better

dase, havin formerly been a Kount. But he aint of much akount now,

except to turn the orgin and drink Beer, of which bevrige he can

hold a churnful, EASY.

Miss Patty is small for her size, but as the man sed abowt his

wife, O Lord! She is well bilt & her complexion is what might be

called a Broonetty. Her ize is a dark bay, the lashes bein long &

silky. When she smiles the awjince feels like axing her to doo it

sum moor, & to continner doin it 2 a indefnit extent. Her waste is

one of the most bootiful wastisis ever seen. When Mister

Strackhorse led her out I thawt sum pretty skool gal, who had jest

graduatid frum pantalets & wire hoops, was a cumin out to read her

fust composishun in public. She cum so bashful like, with her hed

bowd down, & made sich a effort to arrange her lips so thayd look

pretty, that I wanted to swaller her. She reminded me of Susan

Skinner, who'd never kiss the boys at parin bees till the candles

was blow'd out. Miss Patty sung suthin or ruther in a furrin tung.

I don't know what the sentimunts was. Fur awt I know she may hav

bin denouncin my wax figgers & sagashus wild beests of Pray, & I

don't much keer ef she did. When she opened her mowth a army of

martingales, bobolinks, kanarys, swallers, mockin birds, etsettery,

bust 4th& flew all over the Haul.

Go it, little 1, sez I to myself, in a hily exsited frame of mind,

& ef that kount or royal duke which you'll be pretty apt to marry 1

of these dase don't do the fair thing by ye, yu kin always hav a

home on A. Ward's farm, near Baldinsville, Injianny. When she sung

Cumin threw the Rye, and spoke of that Swayne she deerly luvd

herself individooully, I didn't wish I was that air Swayne. No I

gess not. Oh certainly not. [This is Ironical. I don't meen

this. It's a way I hav of goakin.] Now that Maria Picklehominy

has got married & left the perfeshun, Adeliny Patty is the

championess of the opery ring. She karries the Belt. Thar's no

draw fite about it. Other primy donnys may as well throw up the

spunge first as last. My eyes don't deceive my earsite in this

matter.

But Miss Patty orter sing in the Inglish tung. As she kin do so as

well as she kin in Italyun, why under the Son don't she do it?

What cents is thare in singin wurds nobody don't understan when

wurds we do understan is jest as handy? Why peple will

versifferusly applawd furrin langwidge is a mistery. It reminds me

of a man I onct knew. He sed he knockt the bottum out of his pork

Barril, & the pork fell out, but the Brine dident moove a inch. It

stade in the Barril. He sed this was a Mistery, but it wasn't

misterior than is this thing I'm speekin of.

As fur Brignoly, Ferri and Junky, they air dowtless grate, but I

think sich able boddied men wood look better tillin the sile than

dressin theirselves up in black close & white kid gluvs & shoutin

in a furrin tung. Mister Junky is a noble lookin old man, & orter

lead armies on to Battel instid of shoutin in a furrin tung.

Adoo. In the langwidge of Lewis Napoleon when receivin kumpany at

his pallis on the Bullyvards, "I saloot yu."

1.27. OSSAWATOMIE BROWN.

I don't pertend to be a cricket & consekently the reader will not

regard this 'ere peace as a Cricketcism. I cimply desine givin the

pints & Plot of a play I saw actid out at the theatre t'other nite,

called Ossywattermy Brown or the Hero of Harper's Ferry.

Ossywattermy had varis failins, one of which was a idee that he

cood conker Virginny with a few duzzen loonatics which he had pickt

up sumwhares, mercy only nose wher. He didn't cum it, as the sekel

showed. This play was jerkt by a admirer of Old Ossywattermy.

First akt opens at North Elby, Old Brown's humsted. Thare's a

weddin at the house. Amely, Old Brown's darter, marrys sumbody,

and thay all whirl in the Messy darnce. Then Ossywattermy and his

3 sons leave fur Kansis. Old Mrs. Ossywattermy tells 'em thay air

goin on a long jurny & Blesses 'em to slow fiddlin. Thay go to

Kansis. What upon arth thay go to Kansis fur when thay was so nice

& comfortable down there to North Elby, is more'n I know. The suns

air next seen in Kansis at a tarvern. Mister Blane, a sinister

lookin man with his Belt full of knives & hoss pistils, axes one of

the Browns to take a drink. Brown refuzis, which is the fust

instance on record whar a Brown deklined sich a invite. Mister

Blane, who is a dark bearded feroshus lookin person, then axis him

whether he's fur or fernenst Slavery. Yung Brown sez he's agin it,

whareupon, Mister Blane, who is the most sinisterest lookin man I

ever saw, sez Har, har, har! (that bein his stile of larfin wildly)

& ups and sticks a knife into yung Brown. Anuther Brown rushes up

& sez, "you has killed me Ber-ruther!" Moosic by the Band & Seen

changes. The stuck yung Brown enters supported by his two

brothers. Bimeby he falls down, sez he sees his Mother, & dies.

Moosic by the Band. I lookt but couldn't see any mother. Next Seen

reveels Old Brown's cabin. He's readin a book. He sez freedum must

extend its Area & rubs his hands like he was pleesed abowt it. His

suns come in. One of 'em goes out & cums in ded, havin bin shot

while out by a Border Ruffin. The ded yung Brown sez he sees his

mother and tumbles down. The Border Ruffins then surround the

cabin & set it a fire. The Browns giv theirselves up for gone

coons, when the hired gal diskivers a trap door to the cabin & thay

go down threw it & cum up threw the bulkhed. Their merraklis

'scape reminds me of the 'scape of De Jones, the Coarsehair of the

Gulf--a tail with a yaller kiver, that I onct red. For sixteen

years he was confined in a loathsum dunjin, not tastin food durin

all that time. When a lucky thawt struck him! He opend the winder

and got out. To resoom--Old Brown rushes down to the footlites,

gits down on his nees & swares he'll hav revenge. The battle of

Ossawatermy takes place. Old Brown kills Mister Blane, the

sinister individooal aforesed. Mister Blane makes a able &

elerquent speech, sez he don't see his mother MUCH, and dies like

the son of a gentleman, rapt up in the Star Spangled banner.

Moosic by the Band. Four or five other Border ruffins air killed,

but thay don't say nothin abowt seein their mothers. From Kansis

to Harper's Ferry. Picter of a Arsenal is represented. Sojers cum

& fire at it. Old Brown cums out & permits hisself to be shot. He

is tride by two soops in milingtery close and sentenced to be hung

on the gallus. Tabloo--Old Brown on a platform, pintin upards, the

staige lited up with red fire. Goddis of Liberty also on platform,

pintin upards. A dutchman in the orkestry warbles on a base drum.

Curtin falls. Moosic by the Band.

1.28. JOY IN THE HOUSE OF WARD.

Dear Sirs:

I take my pen in hand to inform you that I am in a state of great

bliss, and trust these lines will find you injoyin the same

blessins. I'm reguvinated. I've found the immortal waters of

yooth, so to speak, and am as limber and frisky as a two-year-old

steer, and in the futur them boys which sez to me "go up, old Bawld

hed," will do so at the peril of their hazard, individooally. I'm

very happy. My house is full of joy, and I have to git up nights

and larf! Sumtimes I ax myself "is it not a dream?" & suthin

withinto me sez "it air;" but when I look at them sweet little

critters and hear 'em squawk, I know it is a reality--2 realitys, I

may say--and I feel gay.

I returnd from the Summer Campane with my unparaleld show of wax

works and livin wild Beests of Pray in the early part of this

munth. The peple of Baldinsville met me cordully and I immejitly

commenst restin myself with my famerly. The other nite while I was

down to the tavurn tostin my shins agin the bar room fire & amuzin

the krowd with sum of my adventurs, who shood cum in bare heded &

terrible excited but Bill Stokes, who sez, sez he, "Old Ward,

there's grate doins up to your house."

Sez I "William, how so?"

Sez he, "Bust my gizzud but it's grate doins," & then he larfed as

if he'd kill hisself.

Sez I, risin and puttin on a austeer look, "William, I woodunt be a

fool if I had common cents."

But he kept on larfin till he was black in the face, when he fell

over on to the bunk where the hostler sleeps, and in a still small

voice sed, "Twins!" I ashure you gents that the grass didn't grow

under my feet on my way home, & I was follered by a enthoosiastic

throng of my feller sitterzens, who hurrard for Old Ward at the top

of their voises. I found the house chock full of peple. Thare was

Mis Square Baxter and her three grown-up darters, lawyer Perkinses

wife, Taberthy Ripley, young Eben Parsuns, Deakun Simmuns folks,

the Skoolmaster, Doctor Jordin, etsetterry, etsetterry. Mis Ward

was in the west room, which jines the kitchen. Mis Square Baxter

was mixin suthin in a dipper before the kitchin fire, & a small

army of female wimin were rushin wildly round the house with

bottles of camfire, peaces of flannil, &c. I never seed such a

hubbub in my natral born dase. I cood not stay in the west room

only a minit, so strung up was my feelins, so I rusht out and

ceased my dubbel barrild gun.

"What upon airth ales the man?" sez Taberthy Ripley. "Sakes alive,

what air you doin?" & she grabd me by the coat tales. "What's the

matter with you?" she continnerd.

"Twins, marm," sez I, "twins!"

"I know it," sez she, coverin her pretty face with her apun.

"Wall," sez I, "that's what's the matter with me!"

"Wall, put down that air gun, you pesky old fool," sed she.

"No, marm," sez I, "this is a Nashunal day. The glory of this here

day isn't confined to Baldinsville by a darn site. On yonder

woodshed," sed I, drawin myself up to my full hite and speakin in a

show-actin voice, "will I fire a Nashunal saloot!" sayin whitch I

tared myself from her grasp and rusht to the top of the shed whare

I blazed away until Square Baxter's hired man and my son Artemus

Juneyer cum and took me down by mane force.

On returnin to the Kitchin I found quite a lot of peple seated be4

the fire, a talkin the event over. They made room for me & I sot

down. "Quite a eppisode," sed Docter Jordin, litin his pipe with a

red-hot coal.

"Yes," sed I, "2 eppisodes, waying abowt 18 pounds jintly."

"A perfeck coop de tat," sed the skoolmaster.

"E pluribus unum, in proprietor persony," sed I, thinking I'd let

him know I understood furrin langwidges as well as he did, if I

wasn't a skoolmaster.

"It is indeed a momentious event," sed young Eben Parsuns, who has

been 2 quarters to the Akademy.

"I never heard twins called by that name afore," sed I, "But I

spose it's all rite."

"We shall soon have Wards enuff," sed the editer of the

Baldinsville "Bugle of Liberty," who was lookin over a bundle of

exchange papers in the corner, "to apply to the legislater for a

City Charter!"

"Good for you, old man!" sed I; "giv that air a conspickius place

in the next "Bugle."

"How redicklus," sed pretty Susan Fletcher, coverin her face with

her knittin work & larfin like all possest.

"Wall, for my part," sed Jane Maria Peasly, who is the crossest old

made in the world, "I think you all act like a pack of fools."

Sez I, "Miss Peasly, air you a parent?"

Sez she, "No, I ain't."

Sez I, "Miss Peasly, you never will be."

She left.

We sot there talkin & larfin until "the switchin hour of nite, when

grave yards yawn & Josts troop 4th," as old Bill Shakespire aptlee

obsarves in his dramy of John Sheppard, esq, or the Moral House

Breaker, when we broke up & disbursed.

Muther & children is a doin well & as Resolushuns is the order of

the day I will feel obleeged if you'll insurt the follerin--

Whereas, two Eppisodes has happined up to the undersined's house,

which is Twins; & Whereas I like this stile, sade twins bein of the

male perswashun & both boys; there4 Be it--

RESOLVED, That to them nabers who did the fare thing by sade

Eppisodes my hart felt thanks is doo.

RESOLVED, That I do most hartily thank Engine Ko. No. 17, who,

under the impreshun from the fuss at my house on that auspishus

nite that thare was a konflagration goin on, kum galyiantly to the

spot, but kindly refraned from squirtin.

RESOLVED, That frum the Bottum of my Sole do I thank the

Baldinsville brass band fur givin up the idea of Sarahnadin me,

both on that great nite & sinse.

RESOLVED, That my thanks is doo several members of the Baldinsville

meetin house who for 3 whole dase hain't kalled me a sinful skoffer

or intreeted me to mend my wicked wase and jine sade meetin house

to onct.

RESOLVED, That my Boozum teams with meny kind emoshuns towards the

follerin individoouls, to whit namelee--Mis. Square Baxter, who

Jenerusly refoozed to take a sent for a bottle of camfire; lawyer

Perkinses wife who rit sum versis on the Eppisodes; the Editer of

the Baldinsville "Bugle of Liberty," who nobly assisted me in

wollupin my Kangeroo, which sagashus little cuss seriusly disturbed

the Eppisodes by his outrajus screetchins & kickins up; Mis. Hirum

Doolittle, who kindly furnisht sum cold vittles at a tryin time,

when it wasunt konvenient to cook vittles at my hous; & the

Peasleys, Parsunses & Watsunses fur there meny ax of kindness.

Trooly yures,

Artemus Ward.

1.29. BOSTON. (A. WARD TO HIS WIFE.)

Dear Betsy: I write you this from Boston, "the Modern Atkins," as

it is denomyunated, altho' I skurcely know what those air. I'll

giv you a kursoory view of this city. I'll klassify the paragrafs

under seprit headins, arter the stile of those Emblems of Trooth

and Poority, the Washinton correspongdents!

COPP'S HILL.

The winder of my room commands a exileratin view of Copps' Hill,

where Cotton Mather, the father of the Reformers and sich, lies

berrid. There is men even now who worship Cotton, and there is

wimin who wear him next their harts. But I do not weep for him.

He's bin ded too lengthy. I ain't going to be absurd, like old Mr.

Skillins, in our naberhood, who is ninety-six years of age, and

gets drunk every 'lection day, and weeps Bitturly because he haint

got no Parents. He's a nice Orphan, HE is.

BUNKER HILL.

Bunker Hill is over yonder in Charleston. In 1776 a thrillin dramy

was acted out over there, in which the "Warren Combination" played

star parts.

MR. FANUEL.

Old Mr. Fanuel is ded, but his Hall is still into full blarst.

This is the Cradle in which the Goddess of Liberty was rocked, my

Dear. The Goddess hasn't bin very well durin' the past few years,

and the num'ris quack doctors she called in didn't help her any;

but the old gal's physicians now are men who understand their

bizness, Major-generally speakin', and I think the day is near when

she'll be able to take her three meals a day, and sleep nights as

comf'bly as in the old time.

THE COMMON.

It is here, as ushil; and the low cuss who called it a Wacant Lot,

and wanted to know why they didn't ornament it with sum Bildins',

is a onhappy Outcast in Naponsit.

THE LEGISLATUR.

The State House is filled with Statesmen, but sum of 'em wear queer

hats. They buy 'em, I take it, of hatters who carry on hat stores

down-stairs in Dock Square, and whose hats is either ten years

ahead of the prevailin' stile, or ten years behind it--jest as a

intellectooal person sees fit to think about it. I had the

pleasure of talkin' with sevril members of the legislatur. I told

'em the Eye of 1000 ages was onto we American peple of to-day.

They seemed deeply impressed by the remark, and wantid to know if I

had seen the Grate Orgin?

HARVARD COLLEGE.

This celebrated institootion of learnin is pleasantly situated in

the Bar-room of Parker's in School street, and has poopils from all

over the country.

I had a letter yes'd'y, by the way, from our mootual son, Artemus,

Jr., who is at Bowdoin College in Maine. He writes that he's a

Bowdoin Arab. & is it cum to this? Is this Boy as I nurtered with

a Parent's care into his childhood's hour--is he goin' to be a

Grate American humorist? Alars! I fear it is too troo. Why

didn't I bind him out to the Patent Travellin Vegetable Pill Man,

as was struck with his appearance at our last County Fair, & wanted

him to go with him and be a Pillist? Ar, these Boys--they little

know how the old folks worrit about 'em. But my father he never

had no occasion to worrit about me. You know, Betsy, that when I

fust commenced my career as a moral exhibitor with a six-legged cat

and a Bass drum, I was only a simple peasant child--skurce 15

Summers had flow'd over my yoothful hed. But I had sum mind of my

own. My father understood this. "Go," he sed--"go, my son, and hog

the public!" (he ment, "knock em," but the old man was allus a

little given to slang). He put his withered han' tremblinly onto

my hed, and went sadly into the house. I thought I saw tears

tricklin down his venerable chin, but it might hav been tobacker

jooce. He chaw'd.

LITERATOOR.

The "Atlantic Monthly," Betsy, is a reg'lar visitor to our westun

home. I like it because it has got sense. It don't print stories

with piruts and honist young men into 'em, makin' the piruts

splendid fellers and the honist young men dis'gree'ble idiots--so

that our darters very nat'rally prefer the piruts to the honist

young idiots; but it gives us good square American literatoor. The

chaps that write for the "Atlantic," Betsy, understand their

bizness. They can sling ink, they can. I went in and saw 'em. I

told 'em that theirs was a high and holy mission. They seemed

quite gratified, and asked me if I had seen the Grate Orgin.

WHERE THE FUST BLUD WAS SPILT.

I went over to Lexington yes'd'y. My Boozum hove with sollum

emotions. "& this," I sed to a man who was drivin' a yoke of oxen,

"this is where our revolutionary forefathers asserted their

independence and spilt their Blud. Classic ground!"

"Wall," the man sed, "it's good for white beans and potatoes, but

was regards raisin' wheat, t'ain't worth a damn. But hav' you seen

the Grate Orgin?"

THE POOTY GIRL IN SPECTACLES.

I returned in the Hoss Cars, part way. A pooty girl in spectacles

sot near me, and was tellin' a young man how much he reminded her

of a man she used to know in Walthan. Pooty soon the young man got

out, and, smilin' in a seductive manner, I said to the girl in

spectacles, "Don't _I_ remind you of somebody you used to know?"

"Yes," she sed, "you do remind me of one man, but he was sent to

the penitentiary for stealin' a Bar'l of mackril--he died there, so

I conclood you ain't HIM." I didn't pursoo the conversation. I

only heard her silvery voice once more durin' the remainder of the

jerney. Turnin' to a respectable lookin' female of advanced

summers, she asked her if she had seen the Grate Orgin.

We old chaps, my dear, air apt to forget that it is sum time since

we was infants, and et lite food. Nothin' of further int'rist took

place on the cars excep' a colored gentleman, a total stranger to

me, asked if I'd lend him my diamond Brestpin to wear to a funeral

in South Boston. I told him I wouldn't--not a PURPUSS.

WILD GAME

Altho' fur from the prahayries, there is abundans of wild game in

Boston, such as quails, snipes, plover, ans Props. (The game of

"props," played with cowrie shells is, I believe, peculiar to the

city of Boston.)

COMMON SKOOLS.

A excellent skool sistim is in vogy here. John Slurk, my old

pardner, has a little son who has only bin to skool two months, and

yet he exhibertid his father's performin' Bear in the show all last

summer. I hope they pay partic'lar 'tention to Spelin in these

Skools, because if a man can't Spel wel he's of no 'kount.

SUMMIN' UP.

I ment to have allooded to the Grate Orgin in this letter, but I

haven't seen it. Mr. Reveer, whose tavern I stop at, informed me

that it can be distinctly heard through a smoked glass in his nativ

town in New Hampshire, any clear day. But settin' the Grate Orgin

aside (and indeed, I don't think I heard it mentioned all the time

I was there), Boston is one of the grandest, sure-footedest, clear

headedest, comfortablest cities on the globe. Onlike ev'ry other

large city I was ever in, the most of the hackmen don't seem to

hav' bin speshully intended by natur for the Burglery perfession,

and it's about the only large city I know of where you don't enjoy

a brilliant opportunity of bein swindled in sum way, from the Risin

of the sun to the goin down thereof. There4 I say, loud and

continnered applaus' for Boston!

DOMESTIC MATTERS.

Kiss the children for me. What you tell me 'bout the Twins greeves

me sorely. When I sent 'em that Toy Enjine I had not

contempyulated that they would so fur forgit what wos doo the

dignity of our house as to squirt dishwater on the Incum Tax

Collector. It is a disloyal act, and shows a prematoor leanin'

tords cussedness that alarms me. I send to Amelia Ann, our oldest

dawter, sum new music, viz. "I am Lonely sints My Mother-in-law

Died"; "Dear Mother, What tho' the Hand that Spanked me in my

Childhood's Hour is withered now?" &c. These song writers, by the

way, air doin' the Mother Bizness rather too muchly.

Your Own Troo husban',

Artemus Ward.

1.30. HOW OLD ABE RECEIVED THE NEWS OF HIS NOMINATION.

There are several reports afloat as to how "Honest Old Abe"

received the news of his nomination, none of which are correct. We

give the correct report.

The Official Committee arrived in Springfield at dewy eve, and went

to Honest Old Abe's house. Honest Old Abe was not in. Mrs. Honest

Old Abe said Honest Old Abe was out in the woods splitting rails.

So the Official Committee went out into the woods, where sure

enough they found Honest Old Abe splitting rails with his two boys.

It was a grand, a magnificent spectacle. There stood Honest Old

Abe in his shirt-sleeves, a pair of leather home-made suspenders

holding up a pair of home-made pantaloons, the seat of which was

neatly patched with substantial cloth of a different color. "Mr

Lincoln, Sir, you've been nominated, Sir, for the highest office,

Sir--." "Oh, don't bother me," said Honest Old Abe; "I took a

STENT this mornin' to split three million rails afore night, and I

don't want to be pestered with no stuff about no Conventions till I

get my stent done. I've only got two hundred thousand rails to

split before sundown. I kin do it if you'll let me alone." And

the great man went right on splitting rails, paying no attention to

the Committee whatever. The Committee were lost in admiration for

a few moments, when they recovered, and asked one of Honest Old

Abe's boys whose boy he was? "I'm my parent's boy," shouted the

urchin, which burst of wit so convulsed the Committee that they

came very near "gin'in eout" completely. In a few moments Honest

Ole Abe finished his task, and received the news with perfect

self-possession. He then asked them up to the house, where he

received them cordially. He said he split three million rails every

day, although he was in very poor health. Mr. Lincoln is a jovial

man, and has a keen sense of the ludicrous. During the evening he

asked Mr. Evarts, of New York, "why Chicago was like a hen crossing

the street?" Mr. Evarts gave it up. "Because," said Mr. Lincoln,

"Old Grimes is dead, that good old man!" This exceedingly humorous

thing created the most uproarious laughter.

1.31. INTERVIEW WITH PRESIDENT LINCOLN.

I hav no politics. Not a one. I'm not in the bisiness. If I was

I spose I should holler versiffrusly in the streets at nite and go

home to Betsy Jane smellen of coal ile and gin, in the mornin. I

should go to the Poles arly. I should stay there all day. I should

see to it that my nabers was thar. I should git carriges to take

the kripples, the infirm and the indignant thar. I should be on

guard agin frauds and sich. I should be on the look out for the

infamus lise of the enemy, got up jest be4 elecshun for perlitical

effeck. When all was over and my candydate was elected, I should

move heving & erth--so to speak--until I got orfice, which if I

didn't git a orfice I should turn round and abooze the

Administration with all my mite and maine. But I'm not in the

bizniss. I'm in a far more respectful bizniss nor what pollertics

is. I wouldn't giv two cents to be a Congresser. The wuss insult

I ever received was when sertin citizens of Baldinsville axed me to

run fur the Legislater. Sez I, "My frends, dostest think I'd stoop

to that there?" They turned as white as a sheet. I spoke in my

most orfullest tones & they knowed I wasn't to be trifled with.

They slunked out of site to onct.

There4, havin no politics, I made bold to visit Old Abe at his

humstid in Springfield. I found the old feller in his parler,

surrounded by a perfeck swarm of orfice seekers. Knowin he had

been capting of a flat boat on the roarin Mississippy I thought I'd

address him in sailor lingo, so sez I, "Old Abe, ahoy! Let out yer

main-suls, reef hum the forecastle & throw yer jib-poop over-board!

Shiver my timbers, my harty!" [N.B. This is ginuine mariner

langwidge. I know, becawz I've seen sailor plays acted out by them

New York theatre fellers.] Old Abe lookt up quite cross & sez,

"Send in yer petition by & by. I can't possibly look at it now.

Indeed, I can't. It's onpossible, sir!"

"Mr. Linkin, who do you spect I air?" sed I.

"A orfice-seeker, to be sure," sed he.

"Wall, sir," sed I, "you's never more mistaken in your life. You

hain't gut a orfiss I'd take under no circumstances. I'm A. Ward.

Wax figgers is my perfeshun. I'm the father of Twins, and they

look like me--BOTH OF THEM. I cum to pay a friendly visit to the

President eleck of the United States. If so be you wants to see

me, say so,--if not, say so & I'm orf like a jug handle."

"Mr. Ward, sit down. I am glad to see you, Sir."

"Repose in Abraham's Buzzum!" sed one of the orfice seekers, his

idee bein to git orf a goak at my expense.