Kitabı oku: «The Complete Works of Josh Billings», sayfa 32
JOSH MOUNTS A VELOCIPEDE
The velosipead iz a wize instrumentality, with two wheels, placed consekutively, one wheel before the other, and the other wheel behind the fust one.
They revolve on their axes, simular to the world, from east to west, and have already reached the shores of the Pacifick oshun.
They are az eazy tew ride, az a grind stun.
They will undoubtedly do away with the use of steam, and in fifty years from now, will be the only means of lokomoshun, known to man.
The ladies will all use them, jist az soon az they kan settle the question, in what manner they shall occupy them.
Just now there iz a dispute, whether they shall occupy both sides ov the velosipead at once, or whether they shall remain on one side ov them at once, similar to the anshunt custom ov occupying the noble animal, the hoss.
It iz to be hoped, that this matter will be laid before the “wimmins’ right committee,” and that nothing, ov a one sided natur, should be allowed tew hinder a woman from filling her destiny.
I beleaf in throwing every thing wide open, to a fair competishun between the two sexes, velosipeads, az well az medisin, and may the best man win.
It might look a little odd (for the fust day or two) to see the ladies divided by a velosipead, but in the grate advance ov prices, and morals, which are now at work in the world, nobody but a darn phool, or a foggy, would object tew it – if we are ever to reach perfeckshun in this world, we hav all ov us got to hav a fair chance, at both sides ov things.
I hav examined the scientifick principles ov the velosipead, and find that it iz just az simple az bread and milk.
The rotary cohesiveness which exists in all circumlocutory gravitations, ackting in conjunction with the simple law ov attraction, preserves the moshun ov the velosipead within its proper and natural revolushun.
Nothing can be more simple and yet more beautiful than this law in science; the philosophers are az well acquainted with it az they are with the 10 commandments, and perhaps better.
There iz one improvement in the velosipead which I am looking anxiously forward to, and that iz, to learn to stand still till you mount them.
Nothing iz more anoying than a habit they have got into ov lying down on their sides, if yu undertake to endorse one of them standing still.
I hav seen the nobel animal, the hoss, when they wanted to git rid ov their rider, lay down sideways and roll over, and kick up their heels. This iz a trick which the velosipead haz stole from the hoss without giving him credit for it.
If mi memory serves me right, the moshun ov the velosipead iz purely a crank moshun, simular tew the grind stun, and iz produced the same way, that the scizzor grinder stirs up his masheen.
I hav thought if the pioneer wheel of the velosipead could be made out of whetestones, it might be used while in progress, for sharpening razors, and carving knives, and thus bekum a means ov grace, az well az buty, but this would take the poetry all out ov it, and degrade it down to the level ov usefulness.
If you want tew take the starch out ov a novelty, just set it to work at sumthing useful, it bekums inelegant to onst.
The moshun ov the velosipead iz produced bi the action ov the leggs – or rather, the action ov the pedal extremetys, the word leggs iz altogether too obscene for every man to use, who ever expekts tew run for the legislatur, or be caught in the sosiety ov refined people.
This fakt iz sufficiently explained tew the latin skollar, who understands that “velosipeads” iz manufakterd out ov two forrin words, “veloss” and “pedoss,” which vulgarily means “lively leggs,” but politely means, “pedal swiftness.”
If a man don’t understand latin now a daze, he kant hardly enjoy the conversashun ov a hod carrier.
The velosipead iz not a modern discovery; long before the days of Adam, and Eve, they waz in use.
The heathen gods had them, with one wheel to them, and history tells us ov a grate expert, one Ixion, who got onto the side ov one ov them, and traveled all over the Olympian country.
I hav seen them miself with only one wheel to them, theze had two handles, which protruded out behind, and were propelled by a shove moshun.
Theze were fust discovered in Ireland, and I think are called “wheelbarrows,” or sumthing that sounds like that.
This is all i kno now about the velosipeads.
THE RASE KOARSE
Grate rase! at Sulphur Flat trotting Park, on Thursda, April 9th, for a puss ov 13 dollars, and a bulls-eye watch, free for awl hosses, mares, geldings, mules, and Jackasses!
Seeing the above anounsement, pasted up on a gide board, at “Jamaka rum four corners,” and having never saw a hoss trot, on a well regulated rase koarse, for the improvement ov the breed ov hosses, i agreed i wud go, jist tew encourage the breeding ov good hosses.
I found the village of Sulphur Flats located in a lot and well watered bi a griss-mill and 2 tannerys.
The prinsipal buildings seem tu consiss ov a tavern stand, 3 groserys, an insurance offiss, and anuther tavern stand, awl condukted on strik whiskee prinsiples.
I found the inhabitants a good deal tired in their religus views and i thought the opening wud admit 3 or 4 missionarys abreast.
The moste prinsipal bizness ov the peopil waz pealing bark in the winter, and pitchin cents az soon az warm wether sot in.
I asked a gentleman present, who ced he was a reporter for “The Yung Man’s Christian Gide,” if he knew what the poplashun ov the place definitely waz, and ced he definitely didn’t, but if i would set out a pail ov whiskee, with a dipper into it, on the top ov a hemlock stump, that grew in front ov the tavern, it wouldn’t be 60 minnits befour i cud count the whole ov them, and then we both ov us smiled, az it were, tew onst.
Having asked sum uther inquirys, ov a mixed natur, i santered down tu where the rase koarse waz.
THE TRACK
I found the track waz about a mild in circumferense, and ov a sandy disposishun, fensed in by a kranbury mash on one side, and a brush fense on tuther, and in jist about 3 minnet condishun.
The judge’s stand waz an ox cart surrounded on the sides bi a ha rigging, and the reporters waz invited tew git intu the cart.
THE HOSSES
Waz a gra mare, about the usual stature, not verry fat, and laboring under a spring halt, which tha ced she had caught ov anuther hoss, about 10 days ago.
Tha ced she had trotted tu a kamp-meeting last fall inside ov a verry short time, and that her back bone waz awl game.
I asked a yung man with long yeller hair and bedtick pantyloons on, who waz currying oph the mare, what her pedigree was, and he with a wink tew anuther feller who stood clus bi, ced, “she waz got bi the Landlord out ov a Methdiss minister,” and then tha both laffed.
I found out bi inquirin, that her name waz “Fryin-Pan.”
The uther hoss waz a red hoss, rather hastily konstructed, with a spare tale on him, which tha ced waz kaused by his trotting so fast, in a windy day; i shud think he waz about 5 feet and a haf in hite, and ov a kickin natur.
Tha ced he waz a stranger in theze parts, and that his rite name waz “Juise Harp.”
FUST HEAT
The hosses both cum up tew the skore in the immejiate visinity ov each uther, and got the wurd tew go, the fust time.
The gra mare waz druv bi “Dave Larkin,” and the hoss was handled bi “Ligh Turner.”
Tha trotted sublimely, az cluss az the Siamese twins; the mare with her hed hi up and her noze full ov winde; the hoss waz stretched out tite, like a chalk line; tha passed the haf mile pole simultaneously, time, 2 minnits.
Now the kontest becum exsiting, “Dave” hollered, and “Ligh” yelled – on tha kum, the mare gru higher, and the hoss gru longer – tha make the last turn tew onst – tha look like a dubble team – the exsitement grows more intensely – the crowd sways to and fro – the ox cart trembles – tha cum! tha cum! sich shouting, sich yelling, sich swearing, sich chawing terbacker, waz never herd before; the mare iz ahed! – no, the hoss iz ahed! ’tis even, ’tis a ded hete, tha pass the ox kart – the hoss wins bi 3 quarters ov an inch, time 4 minnits lacking 2 seckunds.
REMARKS
The hosses ar surrounded bi a crowd ov men, wimmin, and children.
Each party are sanguinary ov suckces.
The bettin iz 2 quarts ov whiskee to anything, on the red hoss.
At this junkture the gentleman, reporter for the Young man’s Christian Gide, propozed tew bet 75 cents that the mare wud win the nex heat; i tuk the proposishun forthwithly, and the steaks, bi mutual consent, was placed in mi hat and sot under the kart, and here let me stait, before i forget it, that i haint saw the steaks nor the hat sinse.
SECKUND HEAT
The hosses both sho signs ov distress.
The gra mare’s ears hang down the side ov her hed, like two wet rags, and the hoss rests his tale on the ground.
Tha go slola bak tew the distanse pole, and cum up agin tew the skore, az tho tha waz yoked together.
Awa tha go; the hoss a leetle ahed.
The hoss leads tew the haf mild pole in 2:30.
On the bak stretch, “Dave” went at the mare with hiz long purswader; she trots like litening, she passes the hoss! no! she busts! she busts! and befour “Dave” cud flatten her down tew her work, she broke from the trak and trotted clean up tew her hips in the krambery mash.
The hoss cum in awl alone, trotting fast, and so clus down, that 2 feet ov his tale dragged on the ground.
Time ov this heat, not fur from 5 minnits, “Juise Harp” winning, bi a quarter ov a mile.
Thus ended the grate rase at “Sulphur Flats.”
I immejiately started on foot for “Jamaka Rum four corners,” bare headed, but fully impressed that, tho men, and even whiskee mite deteryoate, the breed ov hosses must begin tew improve in that seckshun ov the kuntry in a fu dais.
BILLINGS LEXICON
Blush – The cream ov modesty.
Ginger-pop – Gimnastik water.
Man – Live dirt.
Friends – Books, paintings, and stuft birds.
Bashfullnes – Ignorance afraid.
Conservatism – A bag with a hole to it.
Radicalism – A hole with a bag to it.
Aristocrat – A demokrat with hiz pockets filled.
Politicks – The apology ov plunder.
Tin watch – Faith without works.
Mule – A bad pun on a horce.
Patience – Faith waiting for a nibble.
Sparking – Picking buds oph from the bush.
Malice – A blind mule kicking by guess.
Eternal – God’s epitaff.
Care – Cat pizen.
Faith – The soul riding anchor.
Bliss – Happiness bileing over and running down both sides ov the pot.
Marriage – An alter on whitch man lays hiz pocketbook and woman her luv letters.
Quack – A doktor whoze science lays in hiz bill.
Hash – A boarding-hous confidence game.
Fuss – An old hen with one chicken.
Twins – 2 mutch.
Boarding-School – A place whare wry coffee and flirtashun iz taught.
Experiment – Energy out ov a job.
Perfection – God in man.
Virtue – That ingredient whitch needs no foil, and without whitch nothing else iz valuabel.
Solitude – A good place tew visit, but a poor place tew stay.
Sloth – Life in a tomb.
Health – A call loan.
Memory – The shadow that the soul casts.
Politeness – Sixty day paper.
Poverty – The only birthright that a man kant lose.
Accidents – The dismay ov phools, the wize man’s barometer.
Ease – Discounted time.
Wealth – Baggage at the risk ov the owner.
Trials – Whetstuns.
Fortune – The aggregate ov possibilitys; a goddess whom cowards count by stealth, but whom brave men take by storm.
Economy – A fust mortgage on wealth.
Enough – Jist a leetle more.
Dignity – Wisdum in tights.
Mischief – The maliss ov fun.
Cook – One who manufakters appetights.
Diseases – The whipping posts and branding irons ov luxury.
Drunkenness – Shame lost and shame found.
Cowardice – Pluck on ice.
Glutton – A man with a drunken appetight.
Examples – Foot prints in the wilderness.
Nunnery – Piety in chains.
Ignorance – Raw happiness.
Sin – A natral distemper, for which virtew haz bin discovered to be an antidote.
Friendship – One ov love’s pimps.
Envy – A disease original with Cain, but which hiz brother Abel afterward caught, and died suddenly ov.
Belle – A female boss ov the situation.
Fancy – The flirtashun ov truth.
Sarcasm – An undertaker in tears.
Sulks – Deff and dum madness.
Courting – A hugg and kiss match, generally a drawn game.
Fiction – A lie with holiday clothes on.
Hen – A lay member.
Law – The shackels ov liberty.
Science – The literature ov truth.
Deceit – A ded wasp with a live tail.
Babys – Dividend.
Miser – A wretch who haz dug out hiz heart tew sto away hiz munny in.
Misfortunes – A band ov vagrants, who liv on what they kan steal.
Spirituolist – A curb stone broker, who sells exchange on Ben Franklin & Co.
Inheritance – Second-hand goods, other people’s leavings.
Ironclads – Vessels ov wrath.
Grave Yard – A small patch ov land, cultivated by the dead, lieing between time and eternity.
Lap Dogs – A nucleus for affeckshun out ov a job.
Society – Burning on an alter natral rights, and then sacredly watching over the ashes.
Jealousy – Self love.
Stingyness – The bran ov economy.
Buck Saw – An instrument ov torture.
Bragadocio – One who pulls hiz own courage by the noze.
Anxiety – Milking a kicking heifer with one hand, and holding her by the tail with the other.
Swearing – The metalic currency ov loafers.
Judicious Benevolence – The brains ov the heart.
Blue Jay – The fop ov the forest.
Policy – “Honesty iz the best policy,” but policy iz not alwus the best honesty.
Bachelor – The hero ov a cot bedstead.
Club Houses – Whare the hen-pecked go tew sware, and smooth out their feathers.
Lie – The cowardice ov truth.
Skunk – An athletick animal, stronger than an elephant.
OWLY
Here we have a batch of immaculate truths from the “Owl Club.”
After the minutes of the last meeting had been read and approved, each “Owl,” as is their custom, lit his cigar, shook out his feathers, and story-telling commenced, the President leading off as usual.
“I never can hear of a man’s gitting his head broke,” said the President, “but I call to mind the wonderful accident that occured at Austin, Texas, twenty years ago.
“A man was thrown from his horse, while riding at full speed into town, and striking against the sharp edge of a potash kettle, which lay beside the road, his head was split down to his collar-bone, each half hanging over his shoulders like a pair ov epaulettes.
“This man was taken up for dead, but recovered, by skillful treatment, and was elected county judge afterward on the strength of this accident.”
“A very good story, and undoubtedly true,” said the Vice-President “Owl,” “but I don’t think it quite so miraculous as the different escapes that Joe French, a friend of mine, a clerk on one of the Mississippi steamboats, has passed safely through.
“His last adventure was on the high-pressure steamer Hurricane.
“As she was passing Natches, on a down trip, she blew up, and filled the air with every kind of fragments.
“Joe was sent up about two hundred and fifty feet, and there being a strong wind at the time, he was carried over onto the center of the city, and fell through the roof of a jewelry store.
“After passing down through three stories of the building, he struck on his feet, by the side of the proprietor of the concern, who demanded five hundred dollars for the damages done to his building.
“‘I can’t pay so much money,’ said Joe, ‘but i will give you two hundred and fifty, and I have often settled for this price before.’”
“Bully for Joe French,” said one of the “Owls.” “But let me tell you a little story about an attorney by the name of Gersh’ Buckley, who practiced law at Burlington, Iowa, a few years ago.
“Gersh had a case, in the county court, which he lost, and in settling with his client was charged by the other attorney with taking less than the customary fees.
“Gersh plead quietly to the charge. ‘But, gentlemen,’ said he, ‘I done all in my power to sustain the honor of the profession, I took all the money the man had.’”
At this point, one of the “Owls,” more noted for his gravity than any of the rest, mounted his perch, and begged to be heard, as follows:
“Talking about steamboats reminds me of a circumstance which occurred on the lower Mississippi, in the year 1840. I had been down to New Orleans and was on my return, having taken passage on the fast side-wheel steamer, Fanny Birch.
“Twenty-five miles up the river we overtook the Memphis Belle, an opposition boat, just leaving a woodyard. Rosin and pine was soon the order ov exercises, and both boats were quickly side by side in a close-contested race.
“Suddenly word was passed along the boat, ‘Man overboard!’
“The captain, rushing aft, inquired of the clerk if the man had paid his passage.
“‘Yes!’ shouted the clerk.
“‘Then go ahead on her, engineer!’ was the captain’s order.”
“Owl” number five plumed his feathers and opened his short but silvery-toned beak, as follows:
“Out in Nevada, during a race week, a rider was thrown from a horse and taken up insensible. As he lay on a stretcher near the judges’ stand many wagers were made among the sporting fraternity present, upon his death or recovery.
“A surgeon present proposed to bleed the boy, but the gamblers interposed, for, they said, it would seriously affect the fairness of the bets.”
“I don’t believe that story,” said “Owl” Number Six: “but here is one which has been in our family for over forty years, and we all know it to be true:
“An old gentleman – who, by the way, was almost entirely deaf, had brought a suit against one of his neighbors, claiming certain damages. The case was one which the justice thought ought not to go to a jury, but should be settled between the parties. He therefore instructed the attorney to ask the old gentleman what he would take to settle the suit. The lawyer, putting his mouth near the deaf man’s ear, said, in a loud tone:
“‘The court wants to know what you will take.’
“Turning his eye blandly toward the judge’s bench, the old gentleman replied:
“‘Thank the squire for me, and tell him I will take a leetle Santy Cruise rum without sugar.’”
“Owl” Number Seven, looking uncommon wise, got off the following:
“Two shad fishermen got into a dispute lately about a fish net, which they both laid claim to, and, as the war of words was reaching its hight, a son of one of the beligerents coming upon the scene, cried out to his venerable parent:
“‘Old man, don’t let him git the start of you —call him a thief and a liar first.’”
“That puts me in mind,” said the next “Owl,” of a story, not at all similar, but more funny I think, than the one we have just listened to.
“Over in Jersey, an honest old Dutchman, who followed gardening for a living, had been to the neighboring town to do a little trading at the stores, and having taken his wife with him, both ov them got unco tight.
“On their way home the old woman fell, out of the wagon, as they were crossing a salt meadow, and was not missed untill the old gent reached home. The neighbors going back to search for the missing wife, found her stuck fast in the mud of the marsh, and talking in a maudlin manner, to the rising tide which had risen up, and just began to play about her lips. ‘Not another drop, hot, nor cold; not another drop, will I take.’”
Owlet.*
PORDUNK VILLAGE
Stranger! hav yu ever been to Pordunk Village, my natiff place?
It iz a dear little lulaby ov a place, sleeping between two small mountains, in the State of Pennsylvania.
It kontains about 1000 souls now, and is watered by goose crik, whitch meanders thru the village az crooked and az lazy az a skool boy, on hiz way tew the distrikt skool hous.
I waz born here, and the ground on whitch the old hous stood, iz thare yet. Mi ancesters are all here too, but they hav retired from bizzness, and are taking their eaze, in the old graveyard ov the little one story church.
The red painted tavern, whare years ago, the townsfolks gathered in, on Saturday nights, to wet their whistles, and brag on their bush beans, and other gardin sass, iz gone, and departed.
And Roger Williams, where iz he?
Roger waz the village blacksmith, and could out argy the parson, on a bit ov skripture, hiz anvil iz still, and he now livs in his new house, with the rest of the old people, just back ov the little one story church.
Whare iz Square Watkins, the justiss of the peace? he knu law, and the stattews, just az eazy az he did the 10 commands, hiz little old offiss, for 50 years unpainted, iz now no more.
No one ov hiz name iz left, he and Roger the blacksmith, lay side by side, just back ov the little one story church, az still az deth kan make them.
Sue Dunham, the crazy woman, I don’t see her! Poor Sue, she waz not alwus welkum, but no one turned her away, a night’s lodgeing no one refused, she was even butiful still, when i waz a boy, but i shrunk from the flash ov her misterious eye.
The old folks knu her story, it waz that sad one, so often told, and so soon forgotten, a mans perfidy.
Sue Dunham raves no more, but in the farther korner, just bak ov the little one story church, whare the ded lay the thikest, lays Sue.
A weep in willow, sown bi aksident, hangs over her grave, and on her hed stone, theze words, almost knawed away bi time, kan be made out, “Sue Dunham, aged 59.”
Parson Powell, who led hiz flok bi the side ov still waters who wet with hallowed drops at christnings, who jined in wedlok, and who asked God to take the departing ones, I miss him too; peacefully he sleeps, just bak ov the little one story church.
Deakon Tucker, who sold sugar bi the pound, and mollassis bi the pint, who delt in whale ile, and bar sope, who kept raizen and razor straps, who could mezzure a yard ov kotton, ov kaliko, tew a thred, and who, 4th ov Julys, sold 3 fire krackers, tew us boys, for a penny, what haz bekum ov the deakon?
Years ago, he fled, not far away, but cluss up tew the back wall ov the little one story church, near to Parson Powell.
An odd phellow waz Ez Farnham, and withal az keen at a trade az a hornet, Them that swopped hosses with Ez once, didn’t hanker tew do it again, he waz honest, but oh! how fatal tew dicker. No one now, in the whole village remember him, he haz gone whare they don’t giv, nor git boot, they put him in the halfaker, just bak ov the little one story church.
Job Pierson iz ded too, and so is Job’s wife, and all ov Job’s sons, and dauters.
I go up, and I go down, the good old village of Pordunk, the people all stare at me, az i stop here and stop thare, to say tew miself, “here it waz that Lige Turner, threw Dave Larkins, 40 years ago, in a wrassle on the village green, and thare stood the old town pump.”
“Here old Beverly, the barber, shaved for three cents a shave, and thare, Burbanks haff soled boots for a quarter.”
“Here – let me see! was it here? Yes Old Mother Benneway sold taffy here, each stick at least 8 inches long, and made out of Deakon Tuckers best Porto Rico molassis.”
“Thare stood the little red skool hous, right thare, it waz the forks ov a road then, it is the korner of a block now.
“Who kan tell me whare Daniel Purdy the skool master lives now, no one! I hav asked a dozen, but no one remember Daniel Purdy.
“It iz a sad thing tew be a skoolmaster, no one ever seems tew kno whare they go when yu miss them. They just seem to depart that’s all. I never knu one tew die, and be buried.”
Ah, it iz pleasant! – it is sad, to go bak tew the village of Pordunk, thare is more people now thare, than there waz when i waz a boy, but how different are they, – or how different am I.
The old trees are the same, man kant alter them, goose krik runs jist whare it did, with willows in all ov its elbows, the mountains each side haven’t grown enny smaller, the birds sing the same songs, but i don’t kno enny one that i meet, and what is more lonesome, no one that i meet knows me.
When i go tew Pordunk, and want tew see enny boddy that I remember, i go down the main street to the fust korner, just whare Joel Parker once lived, then i turn tew the left, and keep on for a ways, till i cum tew the little one story church.
Just bak ov that they are all living now. They don’t remember me when i go thare, but I remember them. It won’t be very long now before I shall jine them.
