University of Virginia Library

2. II.
PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS.

You'll be glad to learn that I've made
a good impression onto the mind of the
lan'lord of the Greenlion tavern. He made
a speech about me last night. Risin' in
the bar he spoke as follers, there bein over
20 individooals present: “This North
American has been a inmate of my 'ouse
over two weeks, yit he hasn't made no attempt
to scalp any member of my fam'ly.
He hasn't broke no cups or sassers, or furnitur
of any kind. (Hear, hear.) I find I can
trust him with lited candles. He eats his
wittles with a knive and a fork. Peple of
this kind should be encurridged. I purpose
'is 'elth!” (Loud'plaws.)

What could I do but modestly get up
and express a fervint hope that the Atlantic

Cable would bind the two countries still
more clostly together? The lan'lord said my
speech was full of orig'nality, but his idee
was the old stage coach was more safer,
and he tho't peple would indors that opinyin
in doo time.

I'm gettin' on exceedin' well in London.
I see now, however, that I made a mistake
in orderin' my close afore I left home.
The trooth is the taler in our little villige
owed me for a pig and I didn't see any
other way of gettin' my pay. Ten years ago
these close would no doubt have been fash'n'ble,
and perhaps they would be ekally
sim'lar ten years hens. But now they're
diff'rently. The taler said he know'd they
was all right, because he had a brother in
Wales who kept him informed about London
fashins reg'lar. This was a infamus
falshood. But as the ballud says (which I
heard a gen'l'man in a new soot of black
close and white kid gloves sing t'other
night), Never don't let us Despise a Man
because he wears a Raggid Coat! I don't
know as we do, by the way, tho' we gen'relly
get out of his way pretty rapid;

prob'ly on account of the pity which tears
our boosums for his onhappy condition.

This last remark is a sirkastic and witherin'
thrust at them blotid peple who live
in gilded saloons. I tho't I'd explain my
meanin' to you. I frekently have to explain
the meanin' of my remarks. I know
one man—and he's a man of varid 'complishments—who
often reads my articles
over 20 times afore he can make anything
of 'em at all. Our skoolmaster to home
says this is a pecoolerarity of geneyus. My
wife says it is a pecoolerarity of infernal
nonsens. She's a exceedin practycal
woman. I luv her muchly, however, and
humer her little ways. It's a recklis falshood
that she hepecks me, and the young
man in our neighborhood who said to me
one evenin', as I was mistenin' my diafram
with a gentle cocktail at the villige tavun
—who said to me in these very langwidge.
“Go home, old man, onless you desires to
have another teapot throwd at you by
B. J.,” probly regrets havin said so. I said,
“Betsy Jane is my wife's front name, gentle
yooth, and I permits no person to alood

to her as B. J. outside of the family circle,
of which I am it principally myself. Your
other observations I scorn and disgust, and
I must pollish you off.” He was a able-bodied
young man, and, remoovin his coat,
he inquired if I wanted to be ground to
powder? I said, Yes: if there was a Powder-grindist
handy, nothin would 'ford me
greater pleasure, when he struck me a
painful blow into my right eye, causin' me
to make a rapid retreat into the fire-place.
I hadn't no idee that the enemy was so
well organised. But I rallied and went for
him, in a rayther vigris style for my time
of life. His parunts lived near by, and I
will simply state 15 minits had only elapst
after the first act, when he was carried
home on a shutter. His mama met the
sollum procession at the door, and after
keerfully looking her orfspring over, she
said, “My son, I see how it is distinctually.
You've been foolin' round a Trashin Masheen.
You went in at the place where
they put the grain in, cum out with the
straw, and you got up into the thingamyjig,
and let the horses tred on you, didn't you,
my son?” The pen of no livin Orthur
could describe that disfortnit young man's
sittywation more clearer. But I was sorry
for him, and I went and nussed him till he
got well. His reg'lar original father being
absent to the war, I told him I'd be a father
to him myself. He smilt a sickly smile,
and said I'd already been wuss than two
fathers to him.

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
check 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. I hope 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 disgraice 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 peaces 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

[ILLUSTRATION]

"Has my clothin' a Welchy appearance?"—See page 25.

[Description: 484EAF. Image of Ward discussing his clothing with another gentleman as shadowy figures watch from the background. The gentleman is wearing a white suit and rimmed hat and has a large bushy beard.]

had'nt 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' over 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 carrige, the sole ockepant
of which was a rayther prepossessin'
female of about 30 summers.

“No, I thank you,” I ernestly replied,
“I prefer to walk.”