Leavin Liverpool (I'm goin' back there, tho--I want to see the Docks, which I heard spoken of at least once while I was there) Icum to London in a 1st class car, passin' the time very agreeable in discussin, with a countryman of mine, the celebrated Schleswig-Holstein question.We took that int'resting question up and carefully traced it from the time it commenced being so, down to the present day, when my countryman, at the close of a four hours' annymated debate, said he didn't know anything about it himself, and he wanted to know if I did.I told him that Idid not.He's at Ramsgate now, and I am to write him when I feel like givin him two days in which to discuss the question of negro slavery in America.But now I do not feel like it.
London at last, and I'm stoppin at the Greenlion tavern.I like the lan'lord very much indeed.He had fallen into a few triflin errers in regard to America--he was under the impression, for instance, that we et hay over there, and had horns growin out of the back part of our heads--but his chops and beer is ekal to any I ever pertook.You must cum and see me and bring the boys.I'm told that Garrick used to cum here, but I'm growin skeptycal about Garrick's favorit taverns.I've had over 500 public-houses pinted out to me where Garrick went.I was indooced one night, by a seleck comp'ny of Britons, to visit sum 25 public-houses, and they confidentially told me that Garrick used to go to each one of 'em.Also, Dr.Johnson.This won't do, you know.
May be I've rambled a bit in this communycation.I'll try and be more collected in my next, and meanwhile, b'lieve me, Trooly Yours, Artemus Ward.
5.2.PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS.
You'll be glad to learn that I've made a good impression onto the mind of the lan'lord of the Green Lion tavern.He made a speech about me last night.Risin' in the bar he spoke as follers, there bein over 20 individooals present:
"This North American has been a inmate of my 'ouse over two weeks, yit he hasn't made no attempt to scalp any member of my fam'ly.He hasn't broke no cups or sassers, or furnitur of any kind.("Hear, hear.") I find I can trust him with lited candles.He eats his wittles with a knife and a fork.People of this kind should be encurridged.I purpose 'is 'elth!" ("Loud 'plaws.")What could I do but modestly get up and express a fervint hope that the Atlantic Cable would bind the two countries still more closely together? The lan'lord said my speech was full of orig'nality, but his idee was the old stage coach was more safer, and he tho't peple would indors that opinyin in doo time.
I'm gettin' on exceedin' well in London.I see now, however, that I made a mistake in orderin' my close afore I left home.
The trooth is the taler in our little villige owed me for a pig and I didn't see any other way of gettin' my pay.Ten years ago these close would no doubt have been fash'n'ble, and perhaps they would be ekally sim'lar ten years hens.But now they're diff'rently.The taler said he know'd they was all right, because he had a brother in Wales who kept him informed about London fashins reg'lar.This was a infamus falsehood.But as the ballud says (which I heard a gen'l'man in a new soot of black close and white kid gloves sing t'other night), Never don't let us Despise a Man because he wears a Raggid Coat! I don't know as we do, by the way, tho' we gen'rally get out of his way pretty rapid; prob'ly on account of the pity which tears our boosums for his onhappy condition.
This last remark is a sirkastic and witherin' thrust at them blotid peple who live in gilded saloons.I tho't I'd explain my meanin' to you.I frekently have to explain the meanin' of my remarks.I know one man--and he's a man of varid 'complishments --who often reads my articles over 20 times afore he can make anything of 'em at all.Our skoolmaster to home says this is a pecoolerarity of geneyus.My wife says it is a pecoolerarity of infernal nonsens.She's a exceedin' practycal woman.I luv her muchly, however, and humer her little ways.It's a recklis falshood that she henpecks me, and the young man in our neighborhood who said to me one evenin', as I was mistenin' my diafram with a gentle cocktail at the villige tavun--who said to me in these very langwidge, "Go home, old man, onless you desires to have another teapot throwd at you by B.J.," probly regrets havin said so.
I said, "Betsy Jane is my wife's front name, gentle yooth, and Ipermits no person to alood to her as B.J.outside of the family circle, of which I am it principally myself.Your other observations I scorn and disgust, and I must pollish you off."He was a able-bodied young man, and, remoovin his coat, he enquired if I wanted to be ground to powder? I said, Yes: if there was a Powder-grindist handy, nothin would 'ford me greater pleasure, when he struck me a painful blow into my right eye, causin' me to make a rapid retreat into the fireplace.I hadn't no idee that the enemy was so well organized.But I rallied and went for him, in a rayther vigris style for my time of life.His parunts lived near by, and I will simply state 15 minits had only elapst after the first act when he was carried home on a shutter.
His mama met the sollum procession at the door, and after keerfully looking her orfspring over, she said:
"My son, I see how it is distinctually.You've been foolin'
round a Trashin Masheen.You went in at the place where they put the grain in, cum out with the straw, and you got up into the thingamyjig, and let the horses tred on you, didn't you, my son?"The pen of no liven Orthur could describe that disfortnit young man's sittywation more clearer.But I was sorry for him, and Iwent and nussed him till he got well.His reg'lar original father being absent to the war, I told him I'd be a father to him myself.He smilt a sickly smile, and said I'd already been wus than two fathers to him.
