Delivered July 4th, at Weathersfield, Connecticut, 1859.
[I delivered the follerin, about two years ago, to a large and
discriminating awjince. I was 96 minits passin a givin pint.
I have revised the orashun, and added sum things which makes
it approposser to the times than it otherwise would be. I
have also corrected the grammers and punktooated it. I do my
own punktooatin now days. The Printers in "Vanity Fair"
offiss can't punktooate worth a cent.]
FELLER CITIZENS: I've bin honored with a invite to norate
before you to-day; and when I say that I skurcely feel ekal to
the task, I'm sure you will believe me.
Weathersfield is justly celebrated for her onyins and
patritism the world over, and to be axed to paws and address
you on this my fust perfeshernal tower threw New Englan,
causes me to feel--to feel--I may say it causes me to FEEL.
(Grate applaws. They thought this was one of my
eccentricities, while the fact is I was stuck. This between
you and I.)
I'm a plane man. I don't know nothin about no ded languages
and am a little shaky on livin ones. There4, expect no flowry
talk from me. What I shall say will be to the pint, right
strate out.
I'm not a politician and my other habits air good. I've no
enemys to reward, nor friends to sponge. But I'm a Union man.
I luv the Union--it is a Big thing--and it makes my hart bleed
to see a lot of ornery peple a-movin heaven--no, not heaven,
but the other place--and earth, to bust it up. Toe much good
blud was spilt in courtin and marryin that hily respectable
female the Goddess of Liberty, to git a divorce from her now.
My own State of Injianny is celebrated for unhitchin marrid
peple with neatness and dispatch, but you can't get a divorce
from the Goddess up there. Not by no means. The old gal has
behaved herself too well to cast her off now. I'm sorry the
picters don't give her no shoes or stockins, but the band of
stars upon her hed must continner to shine undimd, forever.
I'm for the Union as she air, and withered be the arm of every
ornery cuss who attempts to bust her up. That's me. I hav
sed! [It was a very sweaty day, and at this pint of the
orashun a man fell down with sunstroke. I told the awjince
that considerin the large number of putty gals present I was
more afraid of a DAWTER STROKE. This was impromptoo, and
seemed to amoose them very much.]
Feller Citizens--I hain't got time to notis the growth of
Ameriky frum the time when the Mayflowers cum over in the
Pilgrim and brawt Plymouth Rock with them, but every skool boy
nose our kareer has been tremenjis. You will excuse me if I
don't prase the erly settlers of the Kolonies. Peple which
hung idiotic old wimin for witches, burnt holes in Quakers'
tongues and consined their feller critters to the tredmill and
pillery on the slitest provocashun may hav bin very nice folks
in their way, but I must confess I don't admire their stile,
and will pass them by. I spose they ment well, and so, in the
novel and techin langwidge of the nusepapers, "peas to their
ashis." Thare was no diskount, however, on them brave men who
fit, bled and died in the American Revolushun. We needn't be
afraid of setting 'em up two steep. Like my show, they will
stand any amount of prase. G. Washington was abowt the best
man this world ever sot eyes on. He was a clear-heded,
warm-harted, and stiddy goin man. He never slopt over! The
prevailin weakness of most public men is to SLOP OVER! [Put
them words in large letters--A. W.] They git filled up and
slop. They Rush Things. They travel too much on the high
presher principle. They git on to the fust poplar hobbyhoss
whitch trots along, not carin a sent whether the beest is even
goin, clear sited and sound or spavined, blind and bawky. Of
course they git throwed eventooally, if not sooner. When they
see the multitood goin it blind they go Pel Mel with it,
instid of exerting theirselves to set it right. They can't
see that the crowd which is now bearin them triumfantly on its
shoulders will soon diskiver its error and cast them into the
hoss pond of Oblivyun, without the slitest hesitashun.
Washington never slopt over. That wasn't George's stile. He
luved his country dearly. He wasn't after the spiles. He was
a human angil in a 3 kornerd hat and knee britches, and we
shan't see his like right away. My frends, we can't all be
Washingtons but we kin all be patrits & behave ourselves in a
human and a Christian manner. When we see a brother goin down
hill to Ruin let us not give him a push, but let us seeze rite
hold of his coat tails and draw him back to Morality.
Imagine G. Washington and P. Henry in the character of
seseshers! As well fancy John Bunyan and Dr. Watts in
spangled tites, doin the trapeze in a one-horse circus!
I tell you, feller-citizens, it would have bin ten dollars in
Jeff Davis's pocket if he'd never bin born!
* * * * * * * *
Be shure and vote at leest once at all elecshuns. Buckle on
yer armer and go to the Poles. See two it that your naber is
there. See that the kripples air provided with carriages. Go
to the poles and stay all day. Bewair of the infamous lise
whitch the Opposishun will be sartin to git up fur perlitical
effek on the eve of eleckshun. To the poles and when you git
there vote jest as you darn please. This is a privilege we
all persess, and it is 1 of the booties of this grate and free
land.
I see mutch to admire in New Englan. Your gals in partickular
air abowt as snug bilt peaces of Calliker as I ever saw. They
air fully equal to the corn fed gals of Ohio and Injianny and
will make the bestest kind of wives. It sets my Buzzum on
fire to look at 'em.
Be still, my sole, be still,
& you, Hart, stop cuttin up!
I like your skool houses, your meetin houses, your enterprise,
gumpshun &c., but your favorit Bevridge I disgust. I allude
to New England Rum. It is wuss nor the korn whisky of
Injianny, which eats threw stone jugs & will turn the stummuck
of the most shiftliss Hog. I seldom seek consolashun in the
flowin Bole, but tother day I wurrid down some of your Rum.
The fust glass indused me to sware like a infooriated trooper.
On takin the secund glass I was seezed with a desire to break
winders, & arter imbibin the third glass I knockt a small boy
down, pickt his pocket of a New York Ledger, and wildly
commenced readin Sylvanus Kobb's last Tail. Its drefful
stuff--a sort of lickwid litenin, gut up under the personal
supervishun of the devil--tears men's inards all to peaces and
makes their noses blossum as the Lobster. Shun it as you
would a wild hyeny with a firebrand tied to his tale, and
while you air abowt it you will do a first-rate thing for
yourself and everybody abowt you by shunnin all kinds of
intoxicatin lickers. You don't need 'em no more'n a cat needs
2 tales, sayin nothin abowt the trubble and sufferin they
cawse. But unless your inards air cast iron, avoid New
England's favorite Bevrige.
My frends, I'm dun. I tear myself away from you with tears in
my eyes & a pleasant oder of Onyins abowt my close. In the
langwidge of Mister Catterline to the Rummuns, I go, but
perhaps I shall cum back agin. Adoo, people of Weathersfield.
Be virtoous & you'll be happy!