 | Artemus Ward, his book ; with many comic
illustrations |  |
OBERLIN.
About two years ago I arrove in Oberlin, Ohio.
Oberlin is whare the celebrated college is. In fack,
Oberlin is the college, everything else in that air
vicinity resolvin around excloosivly for the benefit
of that institution. It is a very good college, too,
& a grate many wurthy yung men go there annooally
to git intelleck into 'em. But its my onbiassed
'pinion that they go it rather too strong on Ethiopians
at Oberlin. But that's nun of my bizness.
I'm into the Show bizniss. Yit as a faithful historan
I must menshun the fack that on rainy dase
white peple can't find their way threw the streets
without the gas is lit, there bein such a numerosity
of cullerd pussons in the town.
As I was sayin, I arroved at Oberlin, and called
on Perfesser Peck for the purpuss of skewerin Kolonial
Hall to exhibit my wax works and beests of
used by the stujents to speak peaces and read essays
into.
Sez Perfesser Peck, “Mister Ward, I don't know
'bout this bizniss. What are your sentiments?”
Sez I, “I hain't got any.”
“Good God!” cried the Perfesser, “did I understan
you to say you hav no sentiments?”
“Nary a sentiment!” sez I.
“Mister Ward, don't your blud bile at the thawt
that three million and a half of your culled brethren
air a clankin their chains in the South?”
Sez I, “not a bile! Let 'em clank!”
He was about to continner his flowry speech when
I put a stopper on him. Sez I, “Perfesser Peck,
A. Ward is my name & Ameriky is my nashun;
I'm allers the same, tho' humble is my station, and
I've bin in the show bizniss goin on 22 years. The
pint is, can I hav your Hall by payin a fair price?
You air full of sentiments. That's your lay, while
I'm a exhibiter of startlin curiosities. What d'ye
say?”
“Mister Ward, you air endowed with a hily practical
mind, and while I deeply regret that you
air devoid of sentiments, I'll let you hav the hall
provided your exhibition is of a moral & elevatin
nater.”
Sez I, “Tain't nothin shorter.”
So I opened in Kolonial Hall, which was crowded
every nite with stujents, &c. Perfesser Finny gazed
for hours at my Kangaroo, but when that sagashus
but onprincipled little cuss set up one of his
onarthly yellins and I proceeded to hosswhip him,
the Perfesser objected. “Suffer not your angry
pashuns to rise up at the poor annimil's little excentrissities,”
said the Perfesser.
“Do you call such conduck as those a little excentrissity?”
I axed.
“I do,” sed he, sayin which he walked up to the
cage and sez he, “let's try moral swashun upon the
poor creeter.” So he put his hand upon the Kangeroo's
hed and sed, “poor little feller — poor little
feller — your master is very crooil, isn't he, my
untootered frend,” when the Kangaroo, with a terrific
very near chawin it orf. It was amoozin to see the
Perfesser jump up and scream with pane. Sez I,
“that's one of the poor little feller's excentrissities!”
Sez he, “Mister Ward, that's a dangerous quadruped.
He's totally depraved. I will retire and
do my lasserated hand up in a rag, and meanwhile
I request you to meat out summery and severe punishment
to the vishus beest. I hosswhipt the little
cuss for upwards 15 minutes. Guess I licked sum
of his excentrissity out of him.
Oberlin is a grate plase. The College opens with
a prayer and then the New York Tribune is read.
A kolleckshun is then taken up to buy overkoats
with red horn buttons onto them for the indignant
cullured people of Kanady. I have to contribit librally
two the glowrius work, as they kawl it hear.
I'm kompelled by the Fackulty to reserve front seets
in my show for the cullered peple. At the Boardin
House the cullered peple sit at the first table.
What they leeve is maid into hash for the white peple.
with Ethiopians, I sit at the seckind table, and the
konsequence is I've devowered so much hash that my
inards is in a hily mixt up condishun. Fish bones
hav maid their appearance all over my boddy and
pertater peelins air a springin up through my hair.
Howsever I don't mind it. I'm gittin along well in
a pecunery pint of view. The College has konfired
upon me the honery title of T. K., of which I'm
suffishuntly prowd.
| Artemus Ward, his book ; with many comic
illustrations | |