The Complete Works of Josh Billings is a web novel made by Henry W. Shaw.
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All yu hav got to do, to raize sum oats, iz to plough the ground deep, then manure it well, then sprinkle the oats all over the ground, one in a place, then worry the ground with a drag all over, then set up nites tew keep the chickens, and woodchucks out ov them, then pray for sum rain, then kradle them down with a kradle, then rake them together with a rake, then bind them up with a band, then stack them up in a stack, then thrash them out with a flail, then clean them up with a mill, then sharpen both ends ov them with a knife, then stow them away in a granery, then spend wet days, and Sundays, trapping for rats, and mice.
It aint nothing but phun tew raize oats–try it.
One ov the best ways tew raize a sure crop ov oats, and tew git a good price for the crop, iz tew feed 4 quarts ov them tew a shanghi rooster then murder the rooster suddenly, and sell him for 25 cents a pound, crop and all.
Men who never laff, may have good hearts, but they are deep seated,–like sum springs, they hav their inlet and outlet from below, and show no sparkling bubble on the brim.
I don’t like a gigler, this kind ov laff iz like the dandylion, a feeble yeller, and not a bit ov good smell about it.
It iz true that enny kind of a laff iz better than none,–but giv me the laff that looks out ov a man’s eyes fust, to see if the coast is clear, then steals down into the dimple ov his cheek, and rides in an eddy thare awhile, then waltzes a spell, at the korners ov his mouth, like a thing ov life, then busts its bonds ov buty, and fills the air for a moment with a shower ov silvery tongued sparks,–then steals bak, with a smile, to its liar, in the harte, tew watch agin for its prey,–this is the kind ov laff that i luv, and aint afrade ov.
PASHUNCE OV JOB.
Evryboddy iz in the habit ov bragging on Job, and Job did hav konsiderable bile pashunce, that’s a fac, but did he ever keep a distrik skule for 8 dollars a month, and borde ’round?
Did he ever reap lodged oats down hill in a hot da, and hav all hiz gallus b.u.t.tons bust oph at once?
Did he ever hav the jumpin teethake, and be made tu tend baby while hiz wife was over tu Perkinses tu a tea squall?
Did he ever git up in the morning awful dri and turf it 3 miles befoar brekfast tu git a drink, and find that the man kep a tempranse hous?
Did he ever undertaik tu milk a kicking hefer with a bushy tail, in fli time, out in a lot?
Did he ever sot down onto a litter ov kittens in the old rockin cheer, with hiz summer pantyloons on without saing “d.a.m.nashun!”
If he cud du all theze things, and praze the Lord at the same time, all i hav got tu sa, iz, _Bully for Job!_
FRIDAY.–Visited mi washwoman, and blowed her up for sewing ruffles and tucks onto the bottom ov mi drawers. She was thunderstruck at fust, but explained the mystery by saying, “she had sent me a pair, by mistake, that belonged to * * * *;” I blushed like a biled lobster, and told her she couldn’t be too keerful about such things; i might hav bin ruined for life.
THE GAME OF YEWKER.
This ill-bred game ov kards is about 27 years old.
It was fust diskovered by the deck hands on a lake Erie steam Boat, and handed down by them tew posterity in awl its juvenile beauty.
It is generally played by 4 persons and owes mutch ov its absorbingness tew the fackt that yu kan talk, and drink, and chaw, and cheat while the game is advancing.
I have seen it played on the Hudson River Railroad, in the smoking cars, with more immaculate skill than ennywhare else.
If yu play thare, yu will often hold a hand that will astonish you, quite often 4 queens and a 10 spot, which will inflame you to bate 7 or 8 dollars that it is a good hand tew play poker with; but you will be more astonished when you see the other feller’s hand, which invariably consists ov 4 kings and a one spot.
Yewker is a mollatto game, and don’t compare tew old sledge in majesty, enny more than the game ov pin does to a square church raffle.
I never play yewker.
I never would learn how, out ov principle.
I was originally created cluss to the Connektikut line, in Nu England, whare the game ov 7 up, or old sledge, was born, and exists now in awl its pristine virginity.
I play old sledge, tew this day, in its natiff fierceness.
But I won’t play enny game, if I know my charakter whare a jack will take an ace, and a ten spot won’t count game.
I won’t play no such kind ov a game, out ov respekt to old Connekticut, mi natiff place.
I hav finally com tew the konclusion, that _lager beer_ iz not intoxikatin.
I hav been told so bi a german, who sed he had drank it aul nite long, just tew tri the experiment, and was obliged tew go home entirely sober in the morning. I hav seen this same man drink sixteen gla.s.ses, and if he was drunk, he was drunk in german, and n.o.boddy could understand it.
It iz proper enuff tew state, that this man kept a lager-beer saloon, and could have no object in stating what want strictly thus.
I beleaved him tew the full extent ov mi ability. I never drank but 3 gla.s.ses ov lager beer in mi life, and that made my hed untwist, as tho it was hung on the end ov a string, but i was told that it was owing tew my bile being out ov place, and I guess that it was so, for I never biled over wuss than i did when I got home that nite. Mi wife was afrade i was agoing tew die, and i was almoste afrade i shouldn’t, for it did seem az tho evrything i had ever eaten in mi life, was c.u.ming tew the surface, and i do really beleave, if mi wife hadn’t pulled oph mi boots, just az she did, they would have c.u.m thundering up too.
Oh, how sick i was! it was 14 years ago, and i kan taste it now.
I never had so much experience, in so short a time.
If enny man should tell me that lager beer was not intoxikating, i should beleave him; but if he should tell me that i want drunk that nite, but that my stummuk was only out ov order, i should ask him tew state over, in a few words, just how a man felt and akted when he was well set up.
If i want drunk that nite, i had sum ov the moste natural simptoms a man ever had, and keep sober.
In the fust place, it was about 80 rods from whare i drank the lager, tew my house, and i was over 2 hours on the road, and had a hole busted thru each one ov mi pantaloon kneeze, and didn’t hav enny hat, and tried tew open the door by the bell-pull, and hickupped awfully, and saw evrything in the room tryin tew git round onto the back side ov me, and in setting down onto a chair, i didn’t wait quite long enuff for it tew git exactly under me, when it was going round, and i sett down a little too soon, and missed the chair by about 12 inches, and couldn’t git up quick enuff tew take the next one when it c.u.m, and that ain’t aul; mi wife sed i waz az drunk az a beast, and az i sed before, i begun tew spit up things freely.
If lager beer iz not intoxikating, it used me almighty mean, that i kno.
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