University of Virginia Library

7. VII.
SCIENCE AND NATURAL HISTORY.

Mr. Punch, My dear Sir,—I was a little
disapinted in not receivin a invitation to
jine in the meetins of the Social Science
Congress.

I don't exackly see how they go on without
me.

I hope it wasn't the intentions of the
Sciencers to exclood me from their delibrations.

Let it pars. I do not repine. Let us
remember Homer. Twenty cites claim Homer
dead, thro' which the livin Mr. Homer
coldn't have got trusted for a sandwich
and a glass of bitter beer, or words to that
effeck.

But perhaps it was a oversight. Certinly
I have been hosspitably rec'd in this country.

Hospitality has been pored all over me.
At Liverpool I was asked to walk all over
the docks, which are nine miles long; and
I don't remember a instance since my 'rival
in London of my gettin into a cab without
a Briton comin and perlitely shuttin the
door for me, and then extendin his open
hand to'ards me, in the most frenly manner
possible. Does he not, by this simple yit
tuchin gesture, welcum me to England?
Doesn't he? Oh yes—I guess he doesn't
he. And it's quite right among two great
countries which speak the same langwidge,
except as regards H's. And I've been
allowed to walk round all the streets. Even
at Buckinham Pallis, I told a guard I wanted
to walk round there, and he said I could
walk round there. I ascertained subsequent
that he referd to the side-walk instid
of the Pallis—but I couldn't doubt his hosspital
feelins.

I prepared a Essy on Animals to read
before the Social Science meetins. It is a
subjeck I may troothfully say I have successfully
wrastled with. I tackled it when
only nineteen years old. At that tender

age I writ a Essy for a lit'ry Institoot entitled,
“Is Cats to be Trusted?” Of the
merits of that Essy it doesn't becum me to
speak, but I may be excoos'd for mentionin
that the Institoot parsed a resolution that
“whether we look upon the length of
this Essy, or the manner in which it is
written, we feel that we will not express
any opinion of it, and we hope it will be
read in other towns.”

Of course the Essy I writ for the Social
Science Society is a more finisheder production
than the one on Cats, which was
wroten when my mind was crood, and
afore I had masterd a graceful and ellygant
stile of composition. I could not even
punctooate my sentences proper at that
time, and I observe with pane, on lookin
over this effort of my yooth, that its beauty
is in one or two instances mar'd by ingrammaticisms.
This was unexcusable, and
I'm surprised I did it. A writer who can't
write in a grammerly manner better shut
up shop.

You shall hear this Essy on Animals.
Some day when you have four hours to

spare, I'll read it to you. I think you'll
enjoy it. Or, what will be much better, if
I may suggest—omit all picturs in next
week's Punch, and do not let your contributors
write enything whatever (let them have
a holiday; they can go to the British Mooseum;)
and publish my Essy intire. It
will fill all your collumes full, and create
comment. Does this proposition strike
you? Is it a go?

In case I had read the Essy to the Social
Sciencers, I had intended it should
be the closin attraction. I had intended
it should finish the proceedins. I think it
would have finished them. I understand
animals better than any other class of human
creatures. I have a very animal mind,
and I've been identified with 'em doorin
my entire perfessional career as a showman,
more especial bears, wolves, leopards
and serpunts.

The leopard is as lively a animal as I
ever came into contack with. It is troo he
cannot change his spots, but you can
change 'em for him with a paint-brush, as
I once did in the case of a leopard who

wasn't nat'rally spotted in a attractive
manner. In exhibitin him I used to stir
him up in his cage with a protracted pole,
and for the purpuss of makin him yell and
kick up in a leopardy manner, I used
to casionally whack him over the head.
This would make the children inside the
booth scream with fright, which would
make fathers of families outside the booth
very anxious to come in—because there is
a large class of parents who have a uncontrollable
passion for takin their children to
places were they will stand a chance of being
frightened to death.

One day I whacked this leopard more
than ushil, which elissited a remonstrance
from a tall gentleman in spectacles, who
said, “My good man, do not beat the poor
caged animal. Rather fondle him.”

“I'll fondle him with a club,” I anserd,
hitting him another whack.

“I prithy desist,” said the gentleman;
“stand aside, and see the effeck of kindness.
I understand the idiosyncracies of
these creeturs better than you do.” With
that he went up to the cage, and thrustin

his face in between the iron bars, he said,
soothinly, “Come hither, pretty creetur.”
The pretty creetur come-hithered rayther
speedy, and seized the gentleman by the
whiskers, which he tore off about enuff to
stuff a small cushion with.

He said, “You vagabone, I'll have you
indicted for exhibitin dangerous and immoral
animals.”

I replied, “Gentle Sir, there isn't a animal
here that hasn't a beautiful moral, but
you mustn't fondle 'em. You mustn't
meddle with their idiotsyncracies.”

The gentleman was a dramatic cricket,
and he wrote a article for a paper, in which
he said my entertainment was a decided
failure.

As regards Bears, you can teach 'em to
do interestin things, but they're onreliable.
I had a very large grizzly bear once, who
would dance, and larf, and lay down, and
bow his head in grief, and give a mournful
wale, etsetry. But he often annoyed me.
It will be remembered that on the occasion
of the first battle of Bull Run, it suddenly
occurd to the Fed'ral soldiers that they had

business in Washington which ought not
to be neglected, and they all started for
that beautiful and romantic city, maintainin
a rate of speed durin the entire distance
that would have done credit to the celebrated
French steed Gladiateur. Very
nat'rally our Gov'ment was deeply grieved
at this defeat; and I said to my Bear,
shortly after, as I was givin a exhibition in
Ohio—I said, “Brewin, are you not sorry
the National arms has sustained a defeat?”
His business was to wale dismal, and bow
his head down, the band (a barrel orgin and
a wiolin) playing slow and melancholly
moosic. What did the grizzly old cuss do,
however, but commence darncin and larfin
in the most joyous manner. I had a narner
escape from being imprisoned for disloyalty.
I will relate another incident in
the career of this retchid Bear. I used to
present what I called in the bills a Beautiful
living Pictur—showing the Bear's fondness
for his Master: in which I'd lay down
on a piece of carpeting, and the Bear would
come and lay down beside me, restin his
right paw on my breast, the Band playing
“Home, Sweet Home,” very soft and slow.
Altho' I say it, it was a tuchin thing to see.
I've seen Tax-Collectors weep over that
performance.

Well, one day I said, “Ladies and Gentlemen,
we will now show you the Bear's
fondness for his master,” and I went and
laid down. I tho't I observed a pecooliar
expression into his eyes, as he rolled clumsily
to'ards me, but I didn't dream of the
scene which follerd. He laid down, and
put his paw on my breast. “Affection of
the bear for his Master,” I repeated. “You
see the Monarch of the Western Wilds in
a subjugated state. Fierce as these animals
natrally are, we now see that they
have hearts, and can love. This Bear, the
largest in the world, and measurin seventeen
feet round the body, loves me as a
mer-ther loves her che-ild!” But what
was my horror when the grizzly and infamus
Bear threw his other paw under me,
and riz with me to his feet. Then claspin
me in a close embrace he waltzed up and
down the platform in a frightful manner,
I yellin with fear and anguish. To make

matters wuss, a low scurrilus young man in
the audiens hollered out, “Playfulness of
the Bear! Quick moosic!” I jest `scaped
with my life. The Bear met with a wiolent
death the next day, by bein in the way
when a hevily loaded gun was fired off by
one of my men.

But you should hear my Essy which I
wrote for the Social Science Meetins. It
would have had a movin effeck on them.

I feel that I must now conclood.

I have read Earl Bright's speech at
Leeds, and I hope we shall now hear from
John Derby. I trust that not only they,
but Wm. E. Stanley and Lord Gladstone
will cling inflexibly to those great fundamental
principles, which they understand
far better than I do, and I will add that I
do not understand anything about any of
them whatever in the least—and let us all
be happy, and live within our means, even
if we have to borrer money to do it with.