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New Year to beat the band.

" 'Now as for preachin',' I continued, 'you see all you
have to do is to raise up the coat-tails and insert a record
on the phonograph concealed here in the back of the
chest, with a spcakin' tube runnin' up to the mouth.
John Henry bein' a regular minister, he can get the
Homiletic Review at a dollar and a half a year; we can
subscribe for that, get the up-to-datest sermons by the



most distinguished divines, get some gent that's afflicted
with elocution to say 'em into a record, and on Sunday
our friend and pastor here will reel 'em off fine. You
press the button — he does the rest, as the feller says.'

" 'How about callin' on the members ?' inquires Andy

" 'Easy,' says I. 'Hire a buggy of Brother Jinks here,
who keeps a livery stable, at one dollar per p. m. Get a
nigger to chauffeur the pastor at fifty cents per same.
There you are. Let the boy be provided with an assort-
ment of records to suit the people — pleasant and sad,
consolatory and gay, encouragin' or reprovin', and so
forth. The coon drives up, puts in a cartridge, sets the
pastor in the door, and when the family gets through
with him they sets him out again,

" 'There are, say about three hundred callin' days in
the year. He can easy make fifteen calls a day on an aver-
age — equals four thousand five hundred calls a year, at
$450. Of course, there's the records, but they won't cost
over $50 at the outside — you can shave 'em off and use
'em over again, you know.'

" 'But there's the personality of the pastor,' somebody
speaks up. "It's that which attracts folks and fills the

" 'Personality shucks !' says I. 'Haven't we had per-
sonality enough ? For every man it attracts it repels two.
Your last preacher was one of the best fellers that ever
struck this town. He was a plum brick, and had lots o'
horse sense, to boot. He could preach, too, like a house
afire. But you kicked him out because he wasn't sociable
enough. You're askin' an impossibility. No man can be a
student and get up the rattlin' sermons he did, and put in
his time trottin' around callin' on the sisters.

" 'Now, let's apply business sense to this problem.



That's the way I run my store. Find out what the people
want and give it to 'em, is my motto. Now, people ain't
comin' to church unless there's somethin' to draw 'em.
We've tried preachin', and it won't draw. They say they
want sociability, so let's give it to 'em strong. They want
attention paid to 'em. You turn my friend here loose in
the community, and he'll make each and every man,
woman and child think they're it in less'n a month. If
anybody gets disgruntled, you sic John Henry here on
'em, and you'll have 'em come right back a-runnin', and
payin' their pew rent in advance.

" 'Then,' I continued, 'that ain't all. There's another
idea I propose, to go along with the pastor, as a sort of
side line. That's tradin' stamps. Simple, ain't it ? Won-
der why you never thought of it yourselves, don't you?
That's the way with all bright ideas. People drink soda
water all their lives, and along comes a genius and hears
the fizz, and goes and invents a Westinghouse brake.
Same as Newton and the apple, and Columbus and the

" *A11 you have to do is to give tradin' stamps for at-
tendance, and your church fills right up, and John Henry
keeps 'em happy. Stamps can be redeemed at any store.
So many stamps gets, say a parlor lamp or a masterpiece
of Italian art in a gilt frame; so many more draws a
steam cooker or an oil stove ; so many more and you have
a bicycle or a hair mattress or a what-not ; and so on up
to where a hat full of 'em gets an automobile.

" *I tell you when a family has a what-not in their
eye they ain't goin' to let a little rain keep 'em home
from church. If they're all really too sick to go they'll
hire a substitute. And I opine these here stamps will have
a powerful alleviatin' effect on Sunday-sickness.

" 'And then,' I went on, waxin' eloquent, and leanin'



the pastor against the wall, so I could put one hand in
my coat and gesture with the other and make it more im-
pressive, — 'and then/ I says, 'just think of them other
churches. We won't do a thing to 'em. That Baptist
preacher thinks he's a wizz because he makes six hun-
dred calls a year. You just wait till the nigger gets to
haulin' John Henry here around town and loadin' him up
with rapid-fire conversations. That Baptist gent will
look like thirty cents, that's what he'll look like. He'll
think he's Rojessvinsky and the Japanese fleet's after
him. And the Campbellites think they done it when they
got their new pastor, with a voice like a Bull o' Bashan
comin' down hill. Just wait till we load a few of them
extra-sized records with megaphone attachment into our
pastor, and gear him up to two hundred and fifty words
a minute, and then where, oh, where is Mister Camp-
bellite, as the feller says.

** 'Besides, brethren, this pastor, havin' no family,
won't need his back fence fixed ; in fact, he won't need
the parsonage; we can rent it, and the proceeds will go
toward operatin' expenses.

" 'What we need to do,' I says in conclusion, 'is to get
in line, get up to date, give the people what they want.
We have no way of judgin' the future but by the past,
as the feller says. We know they ain't no human bein'
can measure up to our requirements, so let's take a fall out
of science, and have enterprise and business sense.' "

J. P. Wamsley reached for a match.

"Did they accept your offer?" asked his companion.
"I am anxious to know how your plan worked. It has
many points in its favor, I confess."

"No," replied J. P. Wamsley, as he meditatively puffed
his cigar and seemed to be lovingly reviewing the past.
"No, they didn't. I'm kind o' sorry, too. I'd like to have



seen the thing tried myself. But," he added, with a slow
and solemn wink, "they passed a unanimous resolution
callin' back the old pastor at an increased salary."

"I should say, then, that your invention was a suc-

"Well, I didn't lose out pn it, anyhow. I've got John
Henry rigged up with a new bunch of whiskers, and
posin' in my show-window as Dewitt, signin' the peace
treaty, in an elegant suit of all-wool at $i 1.50."




The "Orchids" were as tough a crowd

As Boston anywhere allowed;

It was a club of wicked men —

The oldest, twelve, the youngest, ten ;

They drank their soda colored green,

They talked of "Art," and "Philistine,"

They wore buff "wescoats," and their hair

It used to make the waiters stare !

They were so shockingly behaved

And Boston thought them so depraved,

Policemen, stationed at the door,

Would raid them every hour or more !

They used to smoke ( !) and laugh put loud ( !)

They were a very devilish crowd !

They formed a Cult, far subtler, brainier,

Than ordinary Anglomania,

For all as Jacobites were reckoned,

And gaily toasted Charles the Second !

(What would the Bonnie Charlie say,

If he could see that crowd to-day?)

Fitz-Willieboy McFlubadub

Was Regent of the Orchids' Club ;

A wild Bohemian was he,

And spent his money fast and free.


He thought no more of spending dimes
On some debauch of pickled Hmes,
Than you would think of spending nickels
To buy a pint of German pickles !
The Boston maiden passed him by
With sidelong glances of her eye,
She dared not speak (he zvas so wild),
Yet worshipped this Lotharian child.
Fitz-Willieboy was so blase,
He burned a Transcript up one day !
The Orchids fashioned all their style
On Flubadub's infernal guile.
That awful Boston oath was his —
He used to 'jaculate, *'Gee Whiz!"
He showed them that immoral haunt,
The dirty Chinese Restaurant ;
And there they'd find him, even when
It got to be as late as ten !
He ate chopped suey (with a fork)
You should have heard the villain talk
Of one reporter that he knew ( !)
An artist, and an actor, too!!!
The Orchids went from bad to worse.
Made epigrams — attempted verse!
Boston was horrified and shocked
To hear the way those Orchids mocked ;
For they made fun of Boston ways.
And called good men Provincial Jays !
The end must come to such a story.
Gone is the wicked Orchids' glory;
The room was raided by police,
One night, for breaches of the Peace
(There had been laughter, long and loud,
In Boston this is not allowed),


And there, the sergeant of the squad
Found awful evidence — my God!—
Fitz-WilHeboy McFlubadub,
The Regent of the Orchids' Club,
Had written on the window-sill,
This shocking outrage — "Beacon H — 11 1"



F.rom the Princess Boo-Lally, at Gumbo Goo, South
Sea Islands, to Her Brother, Prince Umbobo, a Soph-
omore at Yale.


'"It is Spring, my dear Umbobo,
On the isle of Gumbo Goo,
Aitd your father. King Korobo,
And your mother long for you.

"We had missionaries Monday,
Much the finest of the year —
Our old cook came back last Sunday,
And the stews she makes are dear.

"I've the loveliest string of knuckles
Which dear Father gave to me,
And a pair of shin-bone buckles
Which I so wish you could see.

"You remember Mr, Booloo ?
He is coming over soon
With some friends from Unatulu —
We all hope they'll call at noon.

"Mr. Booloo's rather slender.
But we'll fix him up with sage,
And I think he'll be quite tender
For a fellow of his age.

* From "At the Sign of the Dollar," by Wallace Irwin. Copyright,
1905, by Fox, Duffield & Co.



"Genevieve O-loola's marriage
Was arranged so very queer —
Have you read The Bishop's Carriage'?
Don't you think it's just too dear?,

"I am hoping next vacation
I may visit you a while.
In this out-of-way location
It's so hard to know the style.

"Will you try and match the sample
I enclose — ^be sure it's green.
Get three yards — that will be ample.
Velvet, mind, not velveteen.

"Gentle mother worries badly,
And she thinks it is a shame
That a man like Dr. Hadley

Lets you play that football game.

"For the way they hurt each other
Seems so barbarously rude —
No, you've not been raised, dear brother,
To do anything so crude.

"And those horrid meals at college —
Not what you're accustomed to.
It is hard, this quest for knowledge.
But be brave.

"Your sister, Boo."

"P. S.—

"If it's not too great a bother

And a mental overtax.
Would you send your poor old father,

C. O. D., a battle-axe?"



God makes sech nights, all white an' still

Fur 'z you can look or listen,
Moonshine an' snow on field an' hill,

All silence an' all glisten.

Zekle crep' up quite unbeknown
An' peeked in thru' the winder,

An' there sot Huldy all alone,
'Ith no one nigh to hender.

A fireplace filled the room's one side
With half a cord o' wood in —

There warn't no stoves (tell comfort died)
To bake ye to a puddin'.

The wa'nut logs shot sparkles out
Towards the pootiest, bless her.

An' leetle flames danced all about
The chiny on the dresser.

Ag^n the chimbley crook-necks hung,

An' in amongst 'em rusted
The old queen's-arm that Gran'ther Young

Fetched back f'om Concord busted.

The very room, coz she was in.
Seemed warm f'om floor to ceilin',

An' she looked full ez rosy agin
Ez the apples she was peelin'.


'T was kin' o' kingdom-come to look

On sech a blessed cretur ;
A dogrose blushin' to a brook

Ain't modester nor sweeter.

He was six foot o' man, A i,

Clear grit an' human natur' ;
None couldn't quicker pitch a ton

Nor dror a furrer straighter.

He'd sparked it with full twenty gals,
He'd squired 'em, danced 'em, druv 'em,

Fust this one, an' then thet, by spells —
All is, he couldn't love 'em.

But long o' her his veins 'ould run

All crinkly like curled maple ;
The side she breshed felt full o' sun

Ez a south slope in Ap'il.

She thought no v'ice hed sech a swing

Ez hisn in the choir;
My ! when he made Ole Hundred ring.

She knowed the Lord was nigher.

An' she'd blush scarlit, right in prayer,
When her new meetin'-bunnet

Felt somehow thru its crown a pair
O' blue eyes sot upun it.

Thet night, I tell ye, she looked some!

She seemed to 've gut a new soul
For she felt sartin-sure he'd come,

Down to her very shoe-sole.


She heered a foot, an' knowed it tu,

A-raspin' on the scraper —
All ways to once her feelin's flew

Like sparks in burnt-up paper.

He kin' o' I'itered on the mat,

Some doubtfle o' the sekle ;
His heart kep' goin' pity-pat,

But hern went pity Zekle.

An' yit she gin her cheer a jerk
Ez though she wished him furder,

An' on her apples kep' to work,
Parin' away like murder.

"You want to see my Pa, I s'pose?"

"Wal ... no ... I come dasignin'-

"To see my Ma ? She's sprinklin' clo'es
Agin to-morrer's i'nin'."

To say why gals act so or so,

Or don't, 'ould be presumin' ;
Mebby to mean yes an' say no

Comes nateral to women.

He stood a spell on one foot fust.

Then stood a spell on t' other.
An' on which one he felt the wust

He couldn't ha' told ye nuther.

Says he, "I'd better call agin" ;

Says she , "Think likely. Mister";
Thet last word pricked him like a pin.

An* , . . Wal, he up an' kist her.


When Ma bimeby upon 'em slips,

Huldy sot pale ez ashes,
All kin' o' smily roun' the lips

An' teary roun' the lashes.

For she was jes' the quiet kind

Whose naturs never vary,
Like streams that keep a summer mind

Snowhid in Jenooary.

The blood clost roun' her heart felt glued

Too tight for all expressin'.
Tell mother see how metters stood,

An' gin 'em both her blessin'.

Then her red come back like the tide

Down to the Bay o' Fundy,
An' all I know is they was cried

In meetin' come nex' Sunday.




Mr. Punch, My Dear Sir: — I skurcely need inform
you that your excellent Tower is very pop'lar with pe'ple
from the agricultooral districks, and it was chiefly them
class which I found waitin at the gates the other mornin.

I saw at once that the Tower was established on a firm
basis. In the entire history of firm basisis I don't find a
basis more firmer than this one.

"You have no Tower in America?" said a man in the
crowd, who had somehow detected my denomination.

"Alars ! no," I anserd; "we boste of our enterprise and
improovementSj and yit we are devoid of a Tower. Amer-
ica oh my onhappy country ! thou hast not got no Tower !
It's a sweet Boon."

The gates was opened after a while, and we all purchist
tickets, and went into a waitin-room.

"My frens," said a pale-faced little man, in black close,
"this is a sad day."

"Inasmuch as to how?" I said.

"I mean it is sad to think that so many peple have been
killed within these gloomy walls. My frens, let us drop
a tear !"

"No," I said, "you must excuse me. Others may drop
one if they feel like it ; but as for me, I decline. The early
managers of this institootion were a bad lot, and their
crimes were trooly orful ; but I can't sob for those who
died four or five hundred years ago. If they was my own



relations I couldn't. It's absurd to shed sobs over things
which occurd during the rain of Henry the Three. Let us
be cheerful," I continnered. "Look at the festiv Warders,
in their red flannil jackets. They are cheerful, and why
should it not be thusly with us ?"

A Warder now took us in charge, and showed us the
Trater's Gate, the armers, and things. The Trater's
Gate is wide enuff to admit about twenty traters abrest,
I should jedge ; but beyond this, I couldn't see that it was
superior to gates in gen'ral.

Traters, I will here remark, are a onfornit class of
peple. If they wasn't, they wouldn't be traters. They
conspire to bust up a country — they fail, and they're
traters. They bust her, and they become statesmen and

Take the case of Gloster, afterward Old Dick the
Three, who may be seen at the Tower on horseback, in a
heavy tin overcoat — take Mr. Gloster's case. Mr. G. was
a conspirator of the basist dye, and if he'd failed, he
would have been hung pn a sour apple tree. But Mr. G.
succeeded, and became great. He was slewed by Col.
Richmond, but he lives in history, and his equestrian fig-
ger may be seen daily for a sixpence, in conjunction with
other em'nent persons, and no extra charge for the Ward-
er's able and bootiful lectur.

There's one king in this room who is mounted onto a
foaming steed, his right hand graspin a barber's pole. I
didn't learn his name.

The room where the daggers and pistils and other
weppins is kept is interestin. Among this collection of
choice cuttlery I notist the bow and arrer which those hot-
heded old chaps used to conduct battles with. It is quite
like the bow and arrer used at this day by certain tribes
of American Injuns, and they shoot 'em off with such a



excellent precision that I almost sigh'd to be an Injun
when I was in the Rocky Mountain regin. They are a
pleasant lot them Injuns. Mr. Cooper and Dr. Catlin
have told us of the red man's wonerful eloquence, and I
found it so. Our party was stopt on the plains of Utah
by a band of Shoshones, whose chief said :

"Brothers ! the pale- face is welcome. Brothers ! the sun
is sinking in the west, and Wa-na-bucky-she will soon
cease speakin. Brothers ! the poor red man belongs to a
race which is fast becomin extink."

He then whooped in a shrill manner, stole all our blan-
kets and whisky, and fled to the primeval forest to conceal
his emotions.

I will remark here, while on the subjeck pf Injuns, that
they are in the main a very shaky set, with even less sense
than the Fenians, and when I hear philanthropists be-
wailin the fack that every year "carries the noble red man
nearer the settin sun," I simply have to say I'm glad of
it, tho' it is rough on the settin sun. They call you by
the sweet name of Brother one minit, and the next they
scalp you with their Thomas-hawks. But I wander. Let
us return to the Tower.

At one end of the room where the weppins is kept, is
a wax figger of Queen Elizabeth, mounted on a fiery
stuffed hoss, whose glass eye flashes with pride, and
whose red morocker nostril dilates hawtily, as if con-
scious of the royal burden he bears. I have associated
Elizabeth with the Spanish Armady. She's mixed up with
it at the Surrey Theater, where Troo to the Core is bein
acted, and in which a full bally core is introjooced on
board the Spanish Admiral's ship, giving the audiens the
idee that he intends openin a moosic-hall in Plymouth the
moment he conkers that town. But a very interesting
drammer is Troo to the Core, notwithstandin the eccen-



trie conduct of the Spanish Admiral ; and very nice it is in
Queen Elizabeth to make Martin Truegold a baronet.

The Warder shows us some instrooments of tortur,
such as thumbscrews, throat-collars, etc., statin that these
was conkered from the Spanish Armady, and addin what
a crooil peple the Spaniards was in them days — which
elissited from a bright-eyed little girl of about twelve
summers the remark that she tho't it zvas rich to talk
about the crooilty of the Spaniards usin thumbscrews,
when he was in a Tower where so many poor peple's
heads had been cut off. This made the Warder stammer
and turn red.

I was so pleased with the little girl's brightness that I
could have kissed the dear child, and I would if she'd been
six years older.

I think my companions Intended makin a day of it, for
they all had sandwiches, sassiges, etc. The sad-lookin
man, who had wanted us to drop a tear afore we started
to go round, fling'd such quantities of sassige into his
mouth that I expected to see him choke hisself to death ;
he said to me, in the Beauchamp Tower, where the poor
prisoners writ their onhappy names on the cold walls,
"This is a sad sight."

"It is indeed," I anserd. "You're black in the face.
You shouldn't eat sassige in public without some rehears-
als beforehand. You manage it orkwardly."

"No," he said, "I mean this sad room."

Indeed, he was quite right. Tho' so long ago all these
drefful things happened, I was very glad to git away from
this gloomy room, and go where the rich and sparklin
Crown Jewils Is kept. I was so pleased with the Queen's
Crown, that It occurd to me what a agree'ble surprise it
w^ould be to send a sim'lar one home to my wife; and I
asked the Warder what was the vally of a good, well-con-



structed Crown like that. He told me, but on cypherin up
with a pencil the amount of funs I have in the Jint
Stock Bank, I conclooded I'd send her a genteel silver
watch instid.

And so I left the Tower. It is a solid and commandin
edifis, but I deny that it is cheerful. I bid it adoo without
a pang.

I was droven to my hotel by the most melancholly
driver of a four-wheeler that I ever saw. He heaved a
deep sigh as I gave him two shillings.

"I'll give you six d.'s more," I said, "if it hurts you so."

"It isn't that, he said, with a hart-rendin groan, "it's
only a way I have. My mind's upset to-day. I at one
time tho't I'd drive you into the Thames. I've been readin
all the daily papers to try and understand about Governor
Eyre, and my mind is totterin. It's really wonderful I
didn't drive you into the Thames."

I asked the onhappy man what his number was, so I
could redily find him in case I should want him agin, and
bad him good-by. And then I tho't what a frollicsome
day I'd made of it. Respectably, etc.

Artemus Ward.

— Punch, 1866.


Mr. Punch, My Dear Sir: — I was a little disapinted
at not receivin a invitation to jine in the meetins of the
Social Science Congress. . . .

I prepared an Essy on Animals to read before the So-
cial Science meetins. It is a subjeck I may troothfully
say I have successfully wrastled with. I tackled it when
only nineteen years old. At that tender age I writ a Essy



for a lit'ry Institoot entitled, "Is Cats to be trusted?" Of
the merits of that Essy it doesn't becum me to speak, but
I may be excoos'd for mentionin that the Institoot parsed
a resolution that "whether we look upon the length of
this Essy, or the manner in which it is written, we feel
that we will not express any opinion of it, and we hope
it will be read in other towns."

Of course the Essy I writ for the Social Science So-
ciety is a more finisheder production than the one on Cats,
which was wroten when my mind was crood, and afore
I had masterd a graceful and ellygant stile of composi-
tion. I could not even punctooate my sentences proper at
that time, and I observe with pane, on lookin over this
effort of my youth, that its beauty is in one or two in-
stances mar'd by ingrammaticisms. This was inexcus-
able, and I'm surprised I did it. A writer who can't write
in a grammerly manner better shut up shop.

You shall hear this Essy on Animals. Some day when
you have four hours to spare, I'll read it to you. I think
you'll enjoy it. Or, what will be much better, if I may
suggest — omit all picturs in next week's Punch, and do
not let your contributors write eny thing whatever (let
them have a holiday; they can go to the British Moo-
seum;) and publish my Essy intire. It will fill all your
collumes full, and create comment. Does this proposition
strike you ? Is it a go ?

In case I had read the Essy to the Social Sciencers, I
had intended it should be the closin attraction. I intended
it should finish the proceedins. I think it would have fin-
ished them. I understand animals better than any other
class of human creatures. I have a very animal mind,
and. I've been identified with 'em doorin my entire per-
fesslonal career as a showman, more especial bears,
wolves, leopards and serpunts.



The leopard is as lively a animal as I ever came into
contack with. It is troo he cannot change his spots, but
you can change 'em for him with a paint-brush, as I once
did in the case of a leopard who wasn't nat' rally spotted
in a attractive manner. In exhibitin him I used to stir
him up in his cage with a protracted pole, and for the
purpuss of makin him yell and kick up in a leopardy man-
ner, I used to casionally whack him over the head. This
would make the children inside the booth scream with
fright, which would make fathers of families outside the

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