第33章

Now you know, gents, that I don't admire opry music.But Ilike Miss Picklehomony's stile.I like her gate.She suits me.There has bin grater singers and there has bin more bootiful wimin, but no more fassinatin young female ever longed for a new gown, or side to place her hed agin a vest pattern than Maria Picklehomony.Fassinatin peple is her best holt.

She was born to make hash of men's buzzums & other wimin mad becawz thay ain't Picklehomonies.Her face sparkles with amuzin cussedness & about 200 (two hundred) little bit of funny devils air continually dancing champion jigs in her eyes, sed eyes bein brite enuff to lite a pipe by.How I shood like to have little Maria out on my farm in Baldinsville, Injianny, whare she cood run in the tall grass, wrastle with the boys, cut up strong at parin bees, make up faces behind the minister's back, tie auction bills to the skoolmaster's coat-tales, set all the fellers crazy after her, & holler & kick up, & go it just as much as she wanted to! But I diegress.Every time she cum canterin out I grew more and more delighted with her.When she bowed her hed I bowed mine.When she powtid her lips I powtid mine.When she larfed I larfed.When she jerked her hed back and took a larfin survey of the aujience, sendin a broadside of sassy smiles in among em, I tried to unjint myself & kollapse.

When, in tellin how she drempt she lived in Marble Halls, she sed it tickled her more than all the rest to dream she loved her feller still the same, I made a effort to swaller myself;but when, in the next song, she look strate at me & called me her Dear, I wildly told the man next to me he mite hav my close, as I shood never want 'em again no more in this world.[The "Plain Dealer" (The Cleveland "Plain Dealer," a well-known Ohio newspaper, to which Mr.Artemus Ward wishes us to understand he contributed.) containin this communicashun is not to be sent to my famerly in Baldinsville under no circumstances whatsomever.]

In conclushun, Maria, I want you to do well.I know you air a nice gal at hart & you must get a good husband.He must be a man of branes and gumpshun & a good provider--a man who will luv you strong and long--a man who will luv you jest as much in your old age, when your voice is cracked like an old tea kittle & you can't get 1 of your notes discounted at 50 per sent a month, as he will now, when you are young & charmin & full of music, sunshine & fun.

Don't marry a snob, Maria.You ain't a Angel, Maria, & I am glad of it.When I see angels in pettycoats I'm always sorry they hain't got wings so they kin quietly fly off whare thay will be appreshiated.You air a woman, & a mity good one too.As for Maccarony, Brignoly, Mullenholler, and them other fellers, they can take care of theirselves.Old Mac.kin make a comfortable livin choppin cord wood if his voice ever givs out, and Amodio looks as tho he mite succeed in conductin sum quiet toll gate, whare the vittles would be plenty & the labor lite.

I am preparin for the Summer Campane.I shall stay in Cleveland a few days and probly you will hear from me again ear I leave to once more becum a tosser on life's tempestuous billers, meanin the Show Bizniss.--Very Respectively Yours, Artemus Ward.

1.26.LITTLE PATTI.

The moosic which Ime most use to is the inspirin stranes of the hand orgin.I hire a artistic Italyun to grind fur me, payin him his vittles & close, & I spose it was them stranes which fust put a moosical taste into me.Like all furriners, he had seen better dase, havin formerly been a Kount.But he aint of much akount now, except to turn the orgin and drink Beer, of which bevrige he can hold a churnful, EASY.

Miss Patty is small for her size, but as the man sed abowt his wife, O Lord! She is well bilt & her complexion is what might be called a Broonetty.Her ize is a dark bay, the lashes bein long &silky.When she smiles the awjince feels like axing her to doo it sum moor, & to continner doin it 2 a indefnit extent.Her waste is one of the most bootiful wastisis ever seen.When Mister Strackhorse led her out I thawt sum pretty skool gal, who had jest graduatid frum pantalets & wire hoops, was a cumin out to read her fust composishun in public.She cum so bashful like, with her hed bowd down, & made sich a effort to arrange her lips so thayd look pretty, that I wanted to swaller her.She reminded me of Susan Skinner, who'd never kiss the boys at parin bees till the candles was blow'd out.Miss Patty sung suthin or ruther in a furrin tung.

I don't know what the sentimunts was.Fur awt I know she may hav bin denouncin my wax figgers & sagashus wild beests of Pray, & Idon't much keer ef she did.When she opened her mowth a army of martingales, bobolinks, kanarys, swallers, mockin birds, etsettery, bust 4th& flew all over the Haul.

Go it, little 1, sez I to myself, in a hily exsited frame of mind, & ef that kount or royal duke which you'll be pretty apt to marry 1of these dase don't do the fair thing by ye, yu kin always hav a home on A.Ward's farm, near Baldinsville, Injianny.When she sung Cumin threw the Rye, and spoke of that Swayne she deerly luvd herself individooully, I didn't wish I was that air Swayne.No Igess not.Oh certainly not.[This is Ironical.I don't meen this.It's a way I hav of goakin.] Now that Maria Picklehominy has got married & left the perfeshun, Adeliny Patty is the championess of the opery ring.She karries the Belt.Thar's no draw fite about it.Other primy donnys may as well throw up the spunge first as last.My eyes don't deceive my earsite in this matter.

But Miss Patty orter sing in the Inglish tung.As she kin do so as well as she kin in Italyun, why under the Son don't she do it?

What cents is thare in singin wurds nobody don't understan when wurds we do understan is jest as handy? Why peple will versifferusly applawd furrin langwidge is a mistery.It reminds me of a man I onct knew.He sed he knockt the bottum out of his pork Barril, & the pork fell out, but the Brine dident moove a inch.It stade in the Barril.He sed this was a Mistery, but it wasn't misterior than is this thing I'm speekin of.