The Complete Works of Artemus Ward - Part 1: Essays, Sketches, and Letters

   Gents,—I arroved in Cleveland on Saturday P.M. from
Baldinsville jest in time to fix myself up and put on a clean
biled rag to attend Miss Picklehomony's grate musical sorry at
the Melodeon. The krowds which pored into the hall augured
well for the show bizniss, & with cheerful sperrets I jined the
enthoosiastic throng. I asked Mr. Strakhosh at the door if he
parst the perfession, and he sed not much he didn't, whereupon
I bawt a preserved seat in the pit, & obsarving to Mr.
Strakhosh that he needn't put on so many French airs becawz he
run with a big show, and that he'd better let his weskut out a
few inches or perhaps he'd bust hisself some fine day, I went
in and squatted down. It was a sad thawt to think that in all
that vast aujience Scacely a Sole had the honor of my
acquaintance.  "& this ere," sed I Bitturly, "is Fame! What
sigerfy my wax figgers and livin wild beasts (which have no
ekels) to these peple? What do thay care becawz a site of my
Kangeroo is worth dubble the price of admission, and that my
Snaiks is as harmlis as the new born babe—all of which is
strictly troo?"  I should have gone on ralein at Fortin and
things sum more, but jest then Signer Maccarony cum out and
sung a hairey from some opry or other. He had on his store
close & looked putty slick, I must say. Nobody didn't
understand nothin abowt what he sed, and so they applawdid him
versiferusly. Then Signer Brignoly cum out and sung another
hairey. He appeared to be in a Pensiv Mood & sung a Luv song I
suppose, tho he may have been cussin the aujince all into a
heep for aut I knewd. Then cum Mr. Maccarony agin and Miss
Picklehomony herself. Thay sang a Doit together.

   Now you know, gents, that I don't admire opry music. But I
like Miss Picklehomony's stile. I like her gate. She suits
me. There has bin grater singers and there has bin more
bootiful wimin, but no more fassinatin young female ever longed
for a new gown, or side to place her hed agin a vest pattern
than Maria Picklehomony. Fassinatin peple is her best holt.
She was born to make hash of men's buzzums & other wimin mad
becawz thay ain't Picklehomonies. Her face sparkles with
amuzin cussedness & about 200 (two hundred) little bit of funny
devils air continually dancing champion jigs in her eyes, sed

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