 | Artemus Ward, his book ; with many comic
illustrations |  |
THE WAR FEVER IN BALDINSVILLE.
As soon as I'd recooperated my physikil system, I
went over into the village. The peasantry was glad
to see me. The skoolmaster sed it was cheerin to
see that gigantic intelleck among 'em onct more.
That's what he called me. I like the skoolmaster,
and allers send him tobacker when I'm off on a travelin
campane. Besides, he is a very sensible man.
Such men must be encouraged.
They don't git news very fast in Baldinsville, as
nothin but a plank road runs in there twice a week,
and that's very much out of repair. So my nabers
wasn't much posted up in regard to the wars,
'Squire Baxter sed he'd voted the dimicratic ticket
for goin on forty year, and the war was a dam black
republican lie. Jo Stackpole, who kills hogs for
the 'Squire, and has got a powerful muscle into his
fair stand-up fight, if he wouldn't draw a knife on
him. So it went — sum was for war, and sum was
for peace. The skoolmaster, however, sed the Slave
Oligarky must cower at the feet of the North ere a
year had flowed by, or pass over his dead corpse.
“Esto perpetua!” he added! “And sine qua non
also!” sed I, sternly, wishing to make a impression
onto the villagers. “Requiescat in pace!” sed the
schoolmaster. “Too troo, too troo!” I anserd, “it's
a scanderlus fact!”
The newspapers got along at last, chock full of
war, and the patriotic fever fairly bust out in Baldinsville.
'Squire Baxter sed he didn't b'lieve in
Coercion, not one of 'em, and could prove by a file
of Eagles of Liberty in his garrit, that it was all
a Whig lie, got up to raise the price of whisky and
destroy our other liberties. But the old 'Squire got
putty riley, when he heard how the rebels was cuttin
up, and he sed he reckoned he should skour up
his old muskit and do a little square fitin for the Old
Flag, which had allers bin on the ticket he'd voted,
right at heart, but it takes longer for him to fill his
venerable Biler with steam than it used to when he
was young and frisky. As I previously informed
you, I am Captin of the Baldinsville Company. I
riz gradooally but majesticly from drummer's Secretary
to my present position. But I found the ranks
wasn't full by no means, and commenced for to recroot.
Havin notist a gineral desire on the part of
young men who are into the Crisis to wear eppylits,
I detarmined to have my company composed excloosively
of offissers, everybody to rank as Brigadeer-Ginral.
The follerin was among the varis questions
which I put to recroots:
Do you know a masked battery from a hunk of
gingerbread?
Do you know a eppylit from a piece of chalk?
If I trust you with a real gun, how many men of
your own company do you speck you can manage to
kill durin the war?
Hav you ever heard of Ginral Price of Missouri,
and can you avoid simler accidents in case of a battle?
Hav you ever had the measles, and if so, how
many?
How air you now?
Show me your tongue, &c., &c. Sum of the
questions was sarcusstical.
The company filled up rapid, and last Sunday we
went to the meetin house in full uniform. I had a
seris time gittin into my military harness, as it was
bilt for me many years ago; but I finally got inside
of it, tho' it fitted me putty clost. Howsever, onct
into it, I lookt fine — in fact, aw-inspirin. “Do
you know me, Mrs. Ward?” sed I walkin into the
kitchin.
“Know you, you old fool? Of course I do.”
I saw at once she did.
I started for the meetin house, and I'm afraid I
tried to walk too strate, for I cum very near fallin
over backards; and in attemptin to recover myself,
my sword got mixed up with my legs, and I fell in
among a choice collection of young ladies, who was
standin near the church door a-seein the sojer boys
come up. My cockt hat fell off, and sumhow my
ladies put their handkerchers to their mouths and
remarked: “Te he,” while my ancient female single
friend, Sary Peasley, bust out into a loud larf.
She exercised her mouth so vilently that her new
false teeth fell out onto the ground.
“Miss Peaseley,” sed I, gittin up and dustin myself,
“you must be more careful with them store
teeth of your'n or you'll have to gum it agin!”
Methinks I had her.
I'd bin to work hard all the week, and I felt rather
snoozy. I'm 'fraid I did git half asleep, for on
hearin the minister ask, “Why was man made to
mourn?” I sed, “I giv it up,” havin a vague idee
that it was a condrum. It was a onfortnit remark,
for the whole meetin house lookt at me with mingled
surprise and indignation. I was about risin to a pint
of order, when it suddenly occurd to me whare I
was, and I kept my seat, blushin like the red, red
rose — so to speak.
The next mornin I 'rose with the lark (N. B. —
I don't sleep with the lark, tho'. A goak.)
My little dawter was execootin ballids, accompanyin
me to linger and hear her sing: “Hark I hear a
angel singin, a angel now is onto the wing.”
“Let him fly, my child!” said I, a-bucklin on
my armer, “I must forth to my Biz.”
We air progressin pretty well with our drill. As
all air commandin offissers, there ain't no jelusy;
and as we air all exceedin smart, it t'aint worth
while to try to outstrip each other. The idee of a
company composed excloosively of Commanders-in-Chiefs,
orriggernated, I spose I skurcely need say,
in these Brane. Considered as a idee, I flatter myself
it is putty hefty. We've got all the tackticks
at our tongs' ends, but what we particly excel in is
restin muskits. We can rest muskits with anybody.
Our corpse will do its dooty. We go to the aid
of Columby — we fight for the stars!
We'll be chopt into sassige meat before we'll exhibit
our coat-tales to the foe.
We'll fight till there's nothin left of us but our
little toes, and even they shall defiantly wiggle!
| Artemus Ward, his book ; with many comic
illustrations | |