I will here obsarve that fitin orter be allus avided, excep in extreem cases.My principle is, if a man smites me on the right cheek I'll turn my left to him, prob'ly; but if he insinooates that my gran'mother wasn't all right, I'll punch his hed.But fitin is mis'ble bisniss, gen'rally speakin, and whenever any enterprisin countryman of mine cums over here to scoop up a Briton in the prize ring I'm allus excessively tickled when he gets scooped hisself, which it is a sad fack has thus far been the case--my only sorrer bein' that t'other feller wasn't scooped likewise.It's diff'rently with scullin boats, which is a manly sport, and I can only explain Mr.Hamil's resunt defeat in this country on the grounds that he wasn't used to British water.Ihope this explanation will be entirely satisfact'ry to all.
As I remarked afore, I'm gettin' on well.I'm aware that I'm in the great metrop'lis of the world, and it doesn't make me onhappy to admit the fack.A man is a ass who dispoots it.That's all that ails HIM.I know there is sum peple who cum over here and snap and snarl 'bout this and that: I know one man who says it is a shame and a disgrace that St.Paul's Church isn't a older edifiss; he says it should be years and even ages older than it is; but I decline to hold myself responsible for the conduck of this idyit simply because he's my countryman.I spose every civ'lised land is endowed with its full share of gibberin'
idyits, and it can't be helpt--leastways I can't think of any effectooal plan of helpin' it.
I'm a little sorry you've got politics over here, but I shall not diskuss 'em with nobody.Tear me to pieces with wild omnibus hosses, and I won't diskuss 'em.I've had quite enuff of 'em at home, thank you.I was at Birmingham t'other night, and went to the great meetin' for a few minits.I hadn't been in the hall long when a stern-lookin' artisan said to me:
"You ar from Wales!"
No, I told him I didn't think I was.A hidgyis tho't flasht over me.It was of that onprincipled taler, and I said, "Has my clothin' a Welchy appearance?""Not by no means," he answered, and then he said, "And what is your opinyin of the present crisis?"I said, "I don't zackly know.Have you got it very bad?"He replied, "Sir, it is sweepin' England like the Cymoon of the Desert!""Wall," I said, "let it sweep!"
He ceased me by the arm and said, "Let us glance at hist'ry.It is now some two thousand years--""Is it, indeed?" I replied.
"Listin!" he fiercely cried; "it is only a little over two thousand years since--""Oh, bother!" I remarkt, "let us go out and git some beer.""No, Sir.I want no gross and sensual beer.I'll not move from this spot till I can vote.Who ar you?"I handed him my card, which in addition to my name, contains a elabrit description of my show."Now, Sir," I proudly said, "you know me?""I sollumly swear," he sternly replied, "that I never heard of you, or your show, in my life!""And this man," I cried bitterly, "calls hisself a intelligent man, and thinks he orter be allowed to vote! What a holler mockery!"I've no objection to ev'ry intelligent man votin' if he wants to.
It's a pleasant amoosement, no doubt; but there is those whose igrance is so dense and loathsum that they shouldn't be trustid with a ballit any more'n one of my trained serpunts should be trusted with a child to play with.
I went to the station with a view of returnin' to town on the cars.
"This way, Sir," said the guard; "here you ar," and he pinted to a first-class carriage, the sole ockepant of which was a rayther prepossessin' female of about 30 summers.
"No, I thank you," I earnestly replied, "I prefer to walk."I am, dear Sir, Very respectivly yours, Artemus WArd.
5.3.THE GREEN LION AND OLIVER CROMWELL.
MR.PUNCH: My Dear Sir,--It is now two weeks since a rayther strange lookin man engaged 'partments at the Green Lion.He stated he was from the celebrated United States, but beyond this he said nothin.He seem'd to prefer sollytood.He remained mostly in his room, and whenever he did show hisself he walkt in a moody and morose manner in the garding, with his hed bowed down and his arms foldid across his brest.He reminded me sumwhat of the celebrated but onhappy "Mr.Haller," in the cheerful play of "The Stranger." This man puzzled me.I'd been puzzled afore several times, but never so severally as now.Mine Ost of the Greenlion said I must interregate this strange bein, who claimed to be my countryman.
"He hasn't called for a drop of beer since he's been in this ere Ouse," said the landlord."I look to you," he added, "to clear up this dark, this orful mistry!"I wringed the lan'lord's honest hand, and told him to consider the mistry cleared up.
I gained axes to the misterus bein's room, and by talkin sweet to him for a few minits, I found out who he was.Then returnin to the lan'lord, who was nervisly pacin up and down the bar, I said, "Sweet ROLANDO, don't tremble no more! I've torn the marsk from the hawty stranger's face, and dived into the recesses of his inmost sole! He's a Trans-Mejim."I'd been to the Beefanham theatre the previs evenin, and probly the drammer I saw affected me, because I'm not in the habit of goin on as per above.I like the Beefanham theatre very much indeed, because there a enthoosiastic lover of the theatre like myself can unite the legitermit drammer with fish.Thus, while your enrapterd soul drinks in the lorfty and noble sentences of the gifted artists, you can eat a biled mack'ril jest as comfor'bly as in your own house.I felt constrained, however, to tell a fond mother who sot immegitly behind me, and who was accompanied by a gin bottle, and a young infant--I felt constrained to tell that mother, when her infant playfully mingled a rayther oily mack'ril with the little hair which is left on my vener'ble hed, that I had a bottle of scented hair oil at home, which on the whole I tho't I preferred to that which her orfspring was greasin me with.This riled the excellent feamale, and she said:
