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 be4a 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'SMoozeum 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' Idon'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.
