The Wit and Humor of America, Volume II. (of X.)

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The Wit and Humor of America, Volume II. (of X.) Page 1

by Ambrose Bierce




  Produced by Suzanne Lybarger and the Online DistributedProofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net

  Library Edition

  THE WIT AND HUMOR OF AMERICA

  In Ten Volumes

  VOL. II

  JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY]

  THE WIT AND HUMOR OF AMERICA

  EDITED BY MARSHALL P. WILDER

  _Volume II_

  Funk & Wagnalls CompanyNew York and London

  Copyright MDCCCCVII, BOBBS-MERRILL COMPANYCopyright MDCCCCXI, THE THWING COMPANY

  CONTENTS

  PAGE Archaeological Congress, An Robert J. Burdette 390 Aunt Dinah's Kitchen Harriet Beecher Stowe 335 Ballad Charles Godfrey Leland 355 Barney McGee Richard Hovey 223 Beecher Beached, The John B. Tabb 232 Boy's View of It, A Frank L. Stanton 393 Budd Wilkins at the Show S.E. Kiser 352 Colonel's Clothes, The Caroline Howard Gilman 396 Comin' Thu Anne Virginia Culbertson 333 Dutchman Who Had the "Small Pox," The Henry P. Leland 295 Evening Musicale, An May Isabel Fisk 325 Familiar Authors at Work Hayden Carruth 289 Fascination John B. Tabb 222 Golfer's Rubaiyat, The H.W. Boynton 319 Go Lightly, Gal (The Cake Walk) Anne Virginia Culbertson 317 Grandma Keeler Gets Grandpa Ready for Sunday-School Sarah P. McLean Greene 266 Hoosier and the Salt Pile, The Danforth Marble 357 How "Ruby" Played George W. Bagby 311 Letter, A Petroleum V. Nasby 282 Lost Word, The John Paul 293 Love Sonnets of a Hoodlum Wallace Irwin 307 Mr. Dooley on Gold-Seeking Finley Peter Dunne 304 Mr. Dooley on Reform Candidates Finley Peter Dunne 321 Natural Perversities James Whitcomb Riley 350 Nautical Ballad, A Charles E. Carryl 348 Old Deacon's Version of the Story of the Rich Man and Lazarus, The Frank L. Stanton 227 Our Best Society George William Curtis 233 Plagiarism John B. Tabb 316 Recruit, The Robert W. Chambers 230 "Ringworm Frank" James Whitcomb Riley 395 Rival Entertainment, A Kate Field 362 Samuel Brown Phoebe Cary 259 Seffy and Sally John Luther Long 372 She Talked Sam Walter Foss 264 Strike at Hinman's, The Robert J. Burdette 342 Two Brothers, The Carolyn Wells 281 Two Farmers, The Carolyn Wells 258 Two New Houses, The Carolyn Wells 221 Two Suitors, The Carolyn Wells 229 Vive La Bagatelle Gelett Burgess 280 Walk William Devere 300 Way it Wuz, The James Whitcomb Riley 261 Yawcob Strauss Charles Follen Adams 370 Yes? John Boyle O'Reilly 222

  COMPLETE INDEX AT THE END OF VOLUME X.

  THE TWO NEW HOUSES

  BY CAROLYN WELLS

  Once on a Time, there were Two Men, each of whom decided to build forhimself a Fine, New House.

  One Man, being of an Arrogant and Conceited Nature, took counsel ofNobody, but declared that he would build his House to suit himself.

  "For," said he, "since it is My House and I am to Live in It, why shouldI ask the Advice of my Neighbors as to its Construction?"

  While the House was Building, the Neighbors came often and Looked at it,and went away, Whispering and Wagging their Heads in Derision.

  But the Man paid no Heed, and continued to build his House as he Would.

  The Result was that, when completed, his House was lacking in Symmetryand Utility, and in a Hundred ways it was Unsatisfactory, and for eachDefect there was a Neighbor who said, "Had you asked Me, I would haveWarned you against that Error."

  The Other Man, who was of a Humble and Docile Mind, went to Each of hisNeighbors in Turn, and asked Advice about the Building of his House.

  His Friends willingly and at Great Length gave him the Benefit of theirExperiences and Opinions, and the Grateful Man undertook to Follow Outall their Directions.

  The Result was that his House, when finished, was a Hodge-Podge ofVarying Styles and Contradictory Effects, and Exceedingly Uncomfortableand Inconvenient to Live In.

  MORALS:

  This Fable teaches that In a Multitude of Counselors there is Safety,and that Too Many Cooks Spoil the Broth.

  YES?

  BY JOHN BOYLE O'REILLY

  The words of the lips are double or single, True or false, as we say or sing: But the words of the eyes that mix and mingle Are always saying the same old thing.

  FASCINATION

  BY JOHN B. TABB

  Among your many playmates here, How is it that you all prefer Your little friend, my dear? "Because, mamma, tho' hard we try, Not one of us can spit so high, And catch it in his ear."

  BARNEY MCGEE

  BY RICHARD HOVEY

  Barney McGee, there's no end of good luck in you, Will-o'-the-wisp, with a flicker of Puck in you, Wild as a bull-pup, and all of his pluck in you-- Let a man tread on your coat and he'll see! Eyes like the lakes of Killarney for clarity, Nose that turns up without any vulgarity, Smile like a cherub, and hair that is carroty-- Whoop, you're a rarity, Barney McGee! Mellow as Tarragon, Prouder than Aragon-- Hardly a paragon, You will agree-- Here's all that's fine to you! Books and old wine to you! Girls be divine to you, Barney McGee!

  Lucky the day when I met you unwittingly, Dining where vagabonds came and went flittingly. Here's some _Barbera_ to drink it befittingly, That day at Silvio's, Barney McGee! Many's the time we have quaffed our Chianti there, Listened to Silvio quoting us Dante there-- Once more to drink Nebiolo spumante there, How we'd pitch Pommery into the sea! There where the gang of us Met ere Rome rang of us, They had the hang of us To a degree. How they would trust to you! That was but just to you. Here's o'er their dust to you, Barney McGee!

  Barney McGee, when you're sober you scintillate, But when you're in drink you're the pride of the intellect; Divil a one of us ever came in till late, Once at the bar where you happened to be-- Every eye there like a spoke in you centering, You with your eloquence, blarney, and bantering-- All Vagabondia shouts at your entering, King of the Tenderloin, Barney McGee! There's no satiety In your society With the variety Of your esprit. Here's a long purse to you, And a great thirst to you! Fate be no worse to you, Barney McGee!

  Och, and the girls whose poor hearts you deracinate, Whirl and bewilder and flutter and fascinate! Faith, it's so killing you are, you assassinate-- Murder's the word for you, Barney McGee! Bold when they're sunny, and smooth when they're showery-- Oh, but the style of you, fluent and flowery! Chesterfield's way, with a touch of the Bowery! How would they silence you, Barney machree? Naug
ht can your gab allay, Learned as Rabelais (You in his abbey lay Once on the spree). Here's to the smile of you, (Oh, but the guile of you!) And a long while of you, Barney McGee!

  Facile with phrases of length and Latinity, Like honorificabilitudinity, Where is the maid could resist your vicinity, Wiled by the impudent grace of your plea? Then your vivacity and pertinacity Carry the day with the divil's audacity; No mere veracity robs your sagacity Of perspicacity, Barney McGee. When all is new to them, What will you do to them? Will you be true to them? Who shall decree? Here's a fair strife to you! Health and long life to you! And a great wife to you, Barney McGee!

  Barney McGee, you're the pick of gentility; Nothing can phase you, you've such a facility; Nobody ever yet found your utility-- There is the charm of you, Barney McGee; Under conditions that others would stammer in, Still unperturbed as a cat or a Cameron, Polished as somebody in the Decameron, Putting the glamour on price or Pawnee. In your meanderin', Love and philanderin', Calm as a mandarin Sipping his tea! Under the art of you, Parcel and part of you, Here's to the heart of you, Barney McGee!

  You who were ever alert to befriend a man, You who were ever the first to defend a man, You who had always the money to lend a man, Down on his luck and hard up for a V! Sure, you'll be playing a harp in beatitude (And a quare sight you will be in that attitude)-- Some day, where gratitude seems but a platitude, You'll find your latitude, Barney McGee. That's no flim-flam at all, Frivol or sham at all, Just the plain--Damn it all, Have one with me! Here's one and more to you! Friends by the score to you, True to the core to you, Barney McGee!

  THE OLD DEACON'S VERSION OF THE STORY OF THE RICH MAN AND LAZARUS

  BY FRANK L. STANTON

  I s'pose yo' know de story, O my brotherin', er de man Dat wuz rich ez cream, en livin' on de fatness er de lan'? How he sot dar eatin' 'possum, en when Laz'rus ax fer some, He tell 'im: "Git erway, dar! fer you'll never git a crumb!"

  De rich man wuz a feastin' f'um his chiny plate en cup, Kaze he 'fraid his po' relations come en eat his wittles up; I spec' he had _two_ 'possums on de table long en wide, En a jimmyjohn er cane juice wuz a-settin' by his side.

  En he say: "Dis heah des suits me, en I gwine ter eat my fill; But I'll sic de dogs on Laz'rus, ef he waitin' roun' heah still." En de dogs commence dey barkin', raise a racket high en low, En when Laz'rus see 'em comin' he decide 'twuz time ter go.

  So, he limp off on his crutches, en de rich man think it's fun, But I reckon Laz'rus answer: "I'll git even wid you, son!" De rich man so enjoy hisse'f he laugh hisse'f ter bed, En, brotherin', when he wake up he wuz stiff, stone dead!

  En den he raise a racket, en he holler out: "What dis? De place is onfamiliar, en I wonder whar' I is?" Den Satan, he mek answer: "I'm de man ter tell you dat: You's in de fire department er de place I livin' at!"

  Den de rich man say: "Whar' Laz'rus dat wuz beggin' at my gate?" En Satan tell him: "Yander, wid a silver spoon en plate; En he eatin' fit ter kill hisse'f! He spendin' er de day Wid good ol' Mister Abra'm, but he mighty fur away!"

  "Will you please, suh," say de rich man, "ax him bring a drink ter me, Wid a li'l' ice ter cool it? Kaze I hot ez hot kin be!" But Satan fall ter laughin', whilst he stir de fire roun':-- "De ice would melt, my brother, 'fo' it ever hit de groun'!"

  Den he fill a cup wid brimstone--fill it steamin' ter de top; But de rich man say he swear off, dat he never tech a drop! But Satan grab his pitchfork whilst de rich man give a squall, En in 'bout a half a second he had swallered cup en all!

  Now, dat's erbout de story er de rich man at de feas', What wouldn't pass de 'possum roun' when Laz'rus want a piece. De 'possum means yo' pocketbook, de moral's plain ez day: Shake de dollars in de basket 'fo' you go de rich man's way!

  THE TWO SUITORS

  BY CAROLYN WELLS

  Once on a Time there was a Charming Young Maiden who had Two Suitors.

  One of These, who was of a Persistent and Persevering Nature, managed tobe Continually in the Young Lady's Company.

  He would pay her a visit in the Morning, Drop In to Tea in theAfternoon, and Call on her Again in the Evening.

  He took her Driving, and he Escorted her to the Theater. He would takeher to a Party, and then he would Dance, or Sit on the Stairs, or Flitinto the Conservatory with her.

  The Young Lady admired this man but she Wearied of his never-ceasingPresence, and she Said to Herself, "If he were not Always at my Elbow Ishould Better Appreciate his Good Qualities."

  The Other Suitor, who considered himself a Man of Deep and PenetratingCleverness, said to himself, "I will Go Away for a Time, and then myFair One will Realize my Worth and Call Me Back to Her."

  With a sad Visage he made his Adieus, and he Exacted her Pledge to Writeto him Occasionally. But after he had Gone she Forgot her Promise, andSoon she Forgot his Very Existence.

  MORALS:

  This Fable teaches that Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder, and thatOut of Sight is Out of Mind.

  THE RECRUIT

  BY ROBERT W. CHAMBERS

  Sez Corporal Madden to Private McFadden: "Bedad, yer a bad 'un! Now turn out yer toes! Yer belt is unhookit, Yer cap is on crookit, Ye may not be dhrunk, But, be jabers, ye look it! Wan--two! Wan--two! Ye monkey-faced divil, I'll jolly ye through! Wan--two! Time! Mark! Ye march like the aigle in Cintheral Parrk!"

  Sez Corporal Madden to Private McFadden: "A saint it ud sadden To dhrill such a mug! Eyes front! ye baboon, ye! Chin up! ye gossoon, ye! Ye've jaws like a goat-- Halt! ye leather-lipped loon, ye! Wan--two! Wan--two! Ye whiskered orang-outang, I'll fix you! Wan--two! Time! Mark! Ye've eyes like a bat! can ye see in the dark?"

  Sez Corporal Madden to Private McFadden: "Yer figger wants padd'n-- Sure, man, ye've no shape! Behind ye yer shoulders Stick out like two bowlders; Yer shins is as thin As a pair of pen-holders! Wan--two! Wan--two! Yer belly belongs on yer back, ye Jew! Wan--two! Time! Mark! I'm dhry as a dog--I can't shpake but I bark!"

  Sez Corporal Madden to Private McFadden: "Me heart it ud gladden To blacken yer eye. Ye're gettin' too bold, ye Compel me to scold ye-- 'T is halt! that I say-- Will ye heed what I told ye? Wan--two Wan--two! Be jabers, I'm dhryer than Brian Boru! Wan--two! Time! Mark! What's wur-ruk for chickens is sport for the lark!"

  Sez Corporal Madden to Private McFadden: "I'll not stay a gadd'n Wid dagoes like you! I'll travel no farther, I'm dyin' for--wather; Come on, if ye like-- Can ye loan me a quarther? Ya-as, you, What--two? And ye'll pay the potheen? Ye're a daisy! Whurroo! You'll do! Whist! Mark! The Rigiment's flatthered to own ye, me spark!"

  THE BEECHER BEACHED

  BY JOHN B. TABB

  Were Harriet Beecher well aware Of what was done in Delaware, Of that unwholesome smell aware,

  She'd make all heaven and hell aware, And ask John Brown to tell her where Henceforth she best might sell her ware.

  OUR BEST SOCIETY

  BY GEORGE WILLIAM CURTIS

  If gilt were only gold, or sugar-candy common sense, what a fine thingour society would be! If to lavish money upon _objets de vertu_, to wearthe most costly dresses, and always to have them cut in the height ofthe fashion; to build houses thirty feet broad, as if they were palaces;to furnish them with all the luxurious devices of Parisian genius; togive superb banquets, at which your guests laugh, and which make youmiserable; to drive a fine carriage and ape
European liveries, andcrests, and coats-of-arms; to resent the friendly advances of yourbaker's wife, and the lady of your butcher (you being yourself acobbler's daughter); to talk much of the "old families" and of youraristocratic foreign friends; to despise labor; to prate of "goodsociety"; to travesty and parody, in every conceivable way, a societywhich we know only in books and by the superficial observation offoreign travel, which arises out of a social organization entirelyunknown to us, and which is opposed to our fundamental and essentialprinciples; if all this were fine, what a prodigiously fine societywould ours be!

  This occurred to us upon lately receiving a card of invitation to abrilliant ball. We were quietly ruminating over our evening fire, withDisraeli's Wellington speech, "all tears," in our hands, with theaccount of a great man's burial, and a little man's triumph across thechannel. So many great men gone, we mused, and such great crisesimpending! This democratic movement in Europe; Kossuth and Mazziniwaiting for the moment to give the word; the Russian bear watchfullysucking his paws; the Napoleonic empire redivivus; Cuba, and annexation,and Slavery; California and Australia, and the consequent considerationsof political economy; dear me! exclaimed we, putting on a fresh hodfulof coal, we must look a little into the state of parties.

  As we put down the coal-scuttle, there was a knock at the door. We said,"come in," and in came a neat Alhambra-watered envelope, containing theannouncement that the queen of fashion was "at home" that evening week.Later in the evening, came a friend to smoke a cigar. The card was lyingupon the table, and he read it with eagerness. "You'll go, of course,"said he, "for you will meet all the 'best society.'"

 

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