第 3 节
作者:
冷如冰 更新:2021-02-19 19:50 字数:9322
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 infantI 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:
〃Git out! You never was a infank yourself; I spose! Oh no! You
was too good to be a infank; you was! You slid into the world
all ready grow'd; didn't you? Git out!〃
〃No; Madam;〃 I replied; 〃I too was once a infant! I was a luvly
child。 People used to come in large and enthoosiastic crowds
from all parts of the country to see me; I was such a sweet and
intel'gent infant。 The excitement was so intens; in fack; that a
extra hotel was startid in the town to accomodate the peple who
thronged to my cradle。〃 Havin finished these troothful
statemints; I smilt sweetly on the worthy female。 She said:
〃Drat you; what do you come a…chaffin me for?〃 and the estymible
woman was really gettin furis; when I mollyfied her by praisin
her child; and by axin pardin for all I'd said。
〃This little gal;〃 I observed; 〃this surprisingly lively gal
when〃 the mother said;
〃It's t'other sect is he; Sir: it's a boy。〃
〃Wall;〃 I said; 〃then this little boy; whose eye is like a eagle
a…soaring proudly in the azure sky; will some day be a man; if he
don't choke hisself to death in childhood's sunny hours with a
smelt or a bloater; or some other drefful calamity。 How surblime
the tho't; my dear Madam; that this infant as you fondle on your
knee on this night; may grow up into a free and independent
citizen; whose vote will be worth from ten to fifteen pounds;
accordin as suffrage may range at that joyous perid!〃
Let us now return; jentle reader; to the lan'lord of the Green
Lion; who we left in the bar in a state of anxiety and perspire。
Rubbin his hot face with a red handkercher; he said; 〃Is the
strange bein a American?〃
〃He is。〃
〃A Gen'ral?〃
〃No。〃
〃A Colonial?〃
〃No。〃
〃A Majer?〃
〃Not a Majer。〃
〃A Capting?〃
〃He is not。〃
〃A leftenant?〃
〃Not even that。〃
〃Then;〃 said the lan'lord of the Green Lion; 〃you ar deceeved!
He is no countryman of yours。〃
〃Why not?〃 I said。
〃I will tell you; Sir;〃 said the lan'lord。 〃My son…in…law is
employed in a bankin house where ev'ry American as comes to these
shores goes to git his drafts casht; and he says that not one has
arrived on these shores during the last 18 months as wasn't a
Gen'ral; a Colonial; a Majer; a Capting; or a leftenant! This
man; as I said afore; has deceeved you! He's a imposture!〃
I reeled into a chair。 For a minit I was speechlis。 At length I
murmured; 〃Alars! I fear it is too troo! Even I was a Capting
of the Home Gards。〃
〃To be sure;〃 said the lan'lord; 〃you all do it over there。〃
〃Wall;〃 I said; 〃whatever nation this person belongs to; we may
as well go and hear him lectur this evenin。 He is one of these
spirit fellershe is a Trans…Mejim; and when he slings himself
into a trans…state he says the sperits of departed great men talk
through him。 He says that to…night sev'ril em'nent persons will
speak through himamong others; Cromwell。〃
〃And this Mr。 Cromwellis he dead?〃 said the lan'lord。
I told him that Oliver was no more。
〃It's a umbug;〃 said the lan'lord; to which I replied that we'd
best go and see; and we went。 We was late; on account of the
lan'lord's extensiv acquaintans with the public house keepers
along the road; and the hall was some two miles distant; but we
got there at last。 The hall was about half full; and the Mejim
was just then assumin' to be Benjamin Franklin; who was speakin
about the Atlantic Cable。
He said the Cable was really a merrytorious affair; and that
messiges could be sent to America; and there was no doubt about
their gettin there in the course of a week or two; which he said
was a beautiful idear; and much quicker than by steamer or
canal…boat。 It struck me that if this was Franklin a spiritooal
life hadn't improved the old gentleman's intellecks particly。
The audiens was mostly composed of rayther pale peple; whose eyes
I tho't rolled round in a somewhat wild manner。 But they was
well…behaved; and the females kept saying; 〃How beautiful! What
a surblime thing it is;〃 et cetry; et cetry。 Among the females
was one who was a fair and rosy young woman。 She sot on the same
seat we did; and the lan'lord of the Green Lion; whose frekent
intervoos with other lan'lords that evenin had been too much for
him; fastened his left eye on the fair and rosy young person; and
smilin lovinly upon her; said:
〃You may give me; my dear; four…penny…worth of gincold gin。 I
take it cold; because〃
There was cries of 〃Silence! Shame! Put him out! The Skoffer!〃
〃Ain't we at the Spotted Boar?〃 the lan'lord hoarsely whispered。
〃No;〃 I answered。 〃It's another kind of bore。 Lis'en。 Cromwell
is goin' to speak through our inspired fren'; now。〃
〃Is he?〃 said the lan'lord〃is he? Wall; I've suthin to say;
also。 Was this Cromwell a licensed vittler?〃
〃Not that I ever heard;〃 I anserd。
〃I'm sorry for that;〃 said the lan'lord with a sigh; 〃but you
think he was a man who would wish to see licensed vittlers
respected in their rights?〃
〃No doubt。〃
〃Wall;〃 said the lan'lord; 〃jest you keep a eye on me。〃 Then
risin to his feet he said; in somewhat husky yet tol'bly distink
voice; 〃Mr。 Crumbwell!〃
〃Cromwell!〃 I cried。
〃Yes; Mr。 Cromwell: that's the man I mean; Mr。 Cromble! won't
you please advise that gen'l'man who you're talkin through; won't
you advise'im during your elekant speech to settle his bill at my
'ouse tonight; Mr。 Crumbles;〃 said the lan'lord; glarin' savigely
round on the peple; 〃because if he don't there'll be a punched
'ed to be seen at the Green Lion; where I don't want no more of
this everlastin nonsens。 I'LL talk through 'im! Here's a
sperrit;〃 said the lan'lord; a smile once more beamin on his
face; 〃which will talk through him like a Dutch father! I'm the
sperrit for you; young feller!〃
〃You're a helthy old sperret;〃 I remarkt; and then I saw the
necessity of gettin him out of the hall。 The wimin was yellin
and screaming; and the men was hollerin' perlice。 A perliceman
really came and collerd my fat fren。
〃It's only a fit; Sir Richard;〃 I said。 I always call the
perlice Sir Richard。 It pleases them to think I'm the victim of
a deloosion; and they always treat me perlitely。 This one did;
certainly; for he let us go。 We saw no more of the Trans…Mejim。
It's diffikilt; of course; to say how long these noosances will
be allowed to prowl round。 I should say; however; if pressed for
a answer that they will prob'ly continner on jest about as long
as they can find peple to lis'en to 'em。 Am I right?
Yours; faithfull;
Artemus Ward。
5。4。 AT THE TOMB OF SHAKSPEARE。
Mr。 Punch; My dear Sir;I've been lingerin by the Tomb of the
lamentid Shakspeare。
It is a success。
I do not hes'tate to pronounce it as such。
You may make any use of this opinion that you see fit。 If you
think its publication will subswerve the cause of litteraoor; you
may publicate it。
I told my wife Betsy when I left home that I should go to the
birthplace of the orthur of 〃Otheller〃 and other Plays。 She said
that as long as I kept out of Newgate she didn't care where I
went。
〃But;〃 I said; 〃don't you know he was the greatest Poit that ever
lived? Not one of these common poits; like that young idyit who
writes verses to our daughter; about the Roses as growses; and
the Breezes as blowsesbut a Boss Poitalso a philosopher; also
a man who knew a great deal about everything。〃
She was packing my things at the time; and the only answer she
made was to ask me if I was goin to carry both of my red flannel
night…caps。
Yes。 I've been to Stratford onto the Avon; the Birthplace of
Shakspeare。 Mr。 S。 is now no more。 He's been dead over three
hundred (300) years。 The peple of his native town are justly
proud of him。 They cherish his mem'ry; and them as sell pictures
of his birthplace; &c。; make it prof'tible cherishin it。 Almost
everybody buys a pictur to put into their Albiom。
As I stood gazing on the spot where Shakspeare is s'posed to have
fell down on the ice and hurt hisself when a boy; (this spot
cannot be boughtthe town authorities say it shall never be
taken from Stratford); I wondered if three hundred years hence
picturs of MY birthplace will be in demand? Will the peple of my
native town be proud of me in three hundred years? I guess they
won't short of that time because they say the fat man weighing
1000 pounds which I exhibited there was stuffed out with pillers
and cushions; which he said one very hot day in July; 〃Oh bother