 | Artemus Ward, his book ; with many comic
illustrations |  |
THRILLING SCENES IN DIXIE.
I had a narrer scape from the sonny South.
“The swings and arrers of outrajus fortin,” alluded
to by Hamlick, warn't nothin in comparison to my
trubles. I come pesky near swearin sum profane
oaths more'n onct, but I hope I didn't do it, for I've
promist she whose name shall be nameless (except
that her initials is Betsy J.) that I'll jine the
Meetin House at Baldinsville, jest as soon as I can
scrape money enuff together so I can 'ford to be
piuss in good stile, like my welthy nabers. But
if I'm confisticated agin I'm fraid I shall continner
on in my present benited state for sum time.
I figgered conspicyusly in many thrillin scenes in
my tower from Montgomery to my humsted, and on
sevril occasions I thought “the grate komick paper”
would'nt be inriched no more with my lubrications.
depot. I saw a nigger sittin on a fence a-playin on
a banjo. “My Afrikan Brother,” sed I, coting
from a Track I onct red, “you belong to a very interesting
race. Your masters is going to war excloosively
on your account.”
“Yes, boss,” he replied, “an' I wish 'em honorable
graves!” and he went on playin the banjo, larfin
all over and openin his mouth wide enuff to drive
in an old-fashioned 2 wheeled chaise.
The train of cars in which I was to trust my wallerable
life was the scaliest, rickytiest lookin lot of
consarns that I ever saw on wheels afore. “What
time does this string of second-hand coffins leave?”
I inquired of the depot master. He sed direckly,
and I went in & sot down. I hadn't more'n fairly
squatted afore a dark lookin man with a swinister expression
onto his countenance entered the cars, and
lookin very sharp at me, he axed what was my principles?
“Secesh!” I ansered. “I'm a Dissoluter. I'm
in favor of Jeff Davis, Bowregard, Pickens, Capt.
Cunningham and all the rest of 'em.”
“You're in favor of the war?”
“Certingly. By all means. I'm in favor of this
war and also of the next war. I've been in favor
of the next war for over sixteen years!”
“War to the knive!” sed the man.
“Blud, Eargo, blud!” sed I, tho them words
isn't origgernal with me. Them words was rit by
Shakespeare, who is ded. His mantle fell onto the
author of “The Seven Sisters,” who's goin to hav a
Spring overcoat made out of it.
We got under way at larst, an' proceeded on our
jerney at about the rate of speed which is ginrally
obsarved by properly-conducted funeral processions.
A hansum yung gal, with a red musketer bar on the
back side of her hed, and a sassy little black hat
tipt over her forrerd, sot in the seat with me. She
wore a little Sesesh flag pin'd onto her hat, and she
was a goin for to see her troo love, who had jined
the Southern army, all so bold and gay. So she
told me. She was chilly and I offered her my
blanket.
“Father livin?” I axed.
“Yes sir.”
“Got any Uncles?”
“A heap. Uncle Thomas is ded, tho.”
“Peace to Uncle Thomas's ashes, and success to
him! I will be your Uncle Thomas! Lean on me
my pretty Secesher, and linger in Blissful repose!”
She slept as secoorly as in her own housen, and
didn't disturb the sollum stillness of the night with
'ary snore!
At the first station a troop of Sojers entered the
cars and inquired if “Old Wax Works” was on
bored. That was the disrespectiv stile in which
they referred to me. “Becawz if Old Wax Works
is on bored,” sez a man with a face like a doublebrested
lobster, “we're going to hang Old Wax
Works!”
“My illustrious and patriotic Bummers!” sez I,
a gittin up and takin orf my Shappo, “if you allude
to A. Ward, it's my pleasin dooty to inform
you that he's ded. He saw the error of his ways
at 15 minits parst 2 yesterday, and stabbed hisself
to slow moosic! His larst words was: `My
perfeshernal career is over! I jerk no more!' ”
“And who be you?”
“I'm a stoodent in Senater Benjamin's law offiss.
I'm going up North to steal some spoons and things
for the Southern Army.”
This was satisfactry and the intossicated troopers
went orf. At the next station the pretty little Secesher
awoke and sed she must git out there. I bid
her a kind adoo and giv her sum pervisions. “Accept
my blessin and this hunk of gingerbred!” I
sed. She thankt me muchly and tript galy away.
There's considerable human nater in a man, and I'm
fraid I shall allers giv aid and comfort to the enemy
if he cums to me in the shape of a nice young gal.
At the next station I didn't get orf so easy. I
was dragged out of the cars and rolled in the mud
for several minits, for the purpose of “takin the
conseet out of me,” as a Secesher kindly stated.
I was let up finally, when a powerful large Secesher
came up and embraced me, and to show that
my mouth. I returned the compliment by placin
my stummick suddenly agin his right foot, when he
kindly made a spittoon of his able-bodied face. Actooated
by a desire to see whether the Secesher had
bin vaxinated I then fastened my teeth onto his left
coat-sleeve and tore it to the shoulder. We then
vilently bunted our heads together for a few minits,
danced around a little, and sot down in a mud puddle.
We riz to our feet agin & by a sudden and
adroit movement I placed my left eye agin the Seaesher's
fist. We then rushed into each other's
arms and fell under a two-hoss wagon. I was very
much exhaustid and didn't care about gettin up agin,
but the man said he reckoned I'd better, and I conclooded
I would. He pulled me up, but I hadn't bin
on my feet more'n two seconds afore the ground flew
up and hit me in the hed. The crowd sed it was
high old sport, but I couldn't zackly see where the
lafture come in. I riz and we embraced agin. We
careered madly to a steep bank, when I got the upper
hands of my antaggernist and threw him into
grindstone pretty hard. I understood he was injured.
I haven't heard from the grindstone.
A man in a cockt hat cum up and sed he felt as
though a apology was doo me. There was a mistake.
The crowd had taken me for another man!
I told him not to mention it, and axed him if his
wife and little ones was so as to be about, and got on
bored the train, which had stopped at that station
“20 minits for refreshments.” I got all I wantid.
It was the hartiest meal I ever et.
I was rid on a rale the next day, a bunch of blazin
fire crackers bein tied to my coat tales. It was a
fine spectycal in a dramatic pint of view, but I didn't
enjoy it. I had other adventers of a startlin kind,
but why continner? Why lasserate the Public Boozum
with these here things? Suffysit to say I got
across Mason & Dixie's line safe at last. I made
tracks for my humsted, but she to whom I'm harnist
for life failed to recognize, in the emashiated bein
who stood before her, the gushin youth of forty-six
summers who had left her only a few months afore.
black bottle. Raisin it to my lips, I sed “Here's
to you, old gal!” I did it so natral that she knowed
me at once. “Those form! Them voice! That
natral stile of doin things! 'Tis he!” she cried,
and rushed into my arms. It was too much for her
& she fell into a swoon. I cum very near swoundin
myself.
No more to-day from yours for the Pepetration
of the Union, and the bringin of the Goddess of
Liberty out of her present bad fix.
| Artemus Ward, his book ; with many comic
illustrations | |