The Complete Works of Josh Billings. Billings Josh
rings fill up the whole horn and grow off onto the adjoining fences in the pasture lot, but this only happens tew very old cows.
I never knu it tew happen in mi life, and I dont think it ever did, it iz one ov them venerable lies that are handed down from father to son, just tew keep the stock ov lies from running out.
When I waz a boy and had just begun tew chew tobacco, i waz told that butter cum from the cow’s horn – I hav since found out that this iz another cussed old lie. This lieing tew children iz no evidence ov genius, and iz sowing the seeds ov decepshun in a soil too apt bi nature tew covet what aint undoubtedly so.
“Dinner-Horn.” – This is the oldest, and most sakred horn thare iz. It iz set tew musik, and plays “Home, Sweet Home” about noon. It has bin listened tew, with more rapturous delite, than ever Graffula’s band haz. Yu kan hear it further than yu kan one ov Mr. Rodman’s guns. It will arrest a man and bring him in quicker than a sheriff’s warrent. It kan outfoot enny other noize. It kauzes the deaf tew hear, and the dum tew shout for joy. Glorious old instrument! long may yure lungs last!
“Ram’s Horn.” – A spiral root, that emerges suddenly from the figure hed ov the maskuline sheep, and ramafies untill it reaches a tip end. Ram’s horns are alwus a sure sighn ov battle. They are used tew butt with, but with out enny respekt to persons. They will attak a stun wall, or a deakon or an established church. A story iz told ov old deakon Fletcher ov Konnektikutt State, who waz digging post holes in a ram pasture on hiz farm, and the moshun ov hiz boddy waz looked upon, by the old ram, who fed in the lot, az a banter for a fight.
Without arrangeing enny terms for the fight, the ram went incontinently for the deakon, and took him, the fust shot, on the blind side ov hiz boddy, jist about the meridian.
The blow transposed the deakon sum eighteen feet, with a heels-over-hed moshun.
Exhasperated tew a point, at least ten foot beyond endurance, the deakon jumped up, and skreamed his whole voice * * * “yu darned – old cuss,” and then all at once remembering that he waz a good, piuz deakon, he apologized by saying – “that iz, if I may be allowed the expresshun.”
The deakon haz mi entire simpathy for the remarks made tew the ram.
“Whisky Horn.” – This horn varys in length, but from three to six inches iz the favorite size.
It iz different from other horns, being ov a fluid natur.
It iz really more pugnashus than the ram’s horn; six inches ov it will knok a man perfekly calm.
When it knoks a man down it holds him thare.
It iz either the principal or the sekond in most all the iniquity that iz travelling around.
It makes brutes of men, demons of wimmin and vagrants of children.
It haz drawn more tears, broken more hearts and blited more hopes than all the other agencys of the devil put together.
“Horn Comb.” – This simple little unsophistikated instrument haz beheaded countless legions ov innocent children.
I don’t mean that it haz cut oph their heads, but that it haz cut its way thru the hirsute embossing that adorns their skalps.
It haz two rows of sharp teeth, and always haz a good appetite.
It iz always az ready for a job az a village lawyer, and iz az thorough az a sarch warrent.
It iz an emblem of faith and neatness.
When it gits old and looses its teeth it should be cherished, hung up and labeled, “Well done old mouser.”
I always look upon an old and worn out horn tooth comb with a species ov venerashun, bordering on melankolly. It reminds me ov mi boyhood, and the boyish things that waz running through mi head in thoze days ov simplicity and innocence.
Thare iz a grate menny other kinds ov horns, but I haint got the time to tell yu all about them now. Thare iz the “Powder Horn,” the “Horn ov the Bull Head,” and the “Horn ov Plenty;” and there iz also “Horn Tooke,” a celebrated writer ov hiz day; but good-by for the present.
KISSING
I hav written essays on kissing before this one, and they didn’t satisfy me, nor dew I think this one will, for the more a man undertakes tew tell about a kiss, the more he will reduce his ignorance tew a science.
Yu kant analize a kiss enny more than yu kan the breath ov a flower. Yu kant tell what makes a kiss taste so good enny more than yu kan a peach.
Enny man who kan set down, whare it is cool, and tell how a kiss tastes, haint got enny more real flavor tew his mouth than a knot hole haz. Such a phellow wouldn’t hesitate tew deskribe Paridise as a fust rate place for gardin sass.
The only way tew diskribe a kiss is tew take one, and then set down, awl alone, out ov the draft, and smack yure lips.
If yu kant satisfy yureself how a kiss tastes without taking another one, how on arth kan you define it tew the next man.
I hav heard writers talk about the egstatick bliss thare waz in a kiss, and they really seemed tew think they knew all about it, but these are the same kind ov folks who perspire and kry when they read poetry, and they fall to writing sum ov their own, and think they hav found out how.
I want it understood that I am talking about pure emotional kissing, that is born in the heart, and flies tew the lips, like a humming bird tew her roost.
I am not talking about your lazy, milk and molasses kissing, that daubs the face ov enny body, nor yure savage bite, that goes around, like a roaring lion, in search ov sumthing to eat.
Kissing an unwilling pair ov lips, iz az mean a viktory, az robbin a bird’s nest, and kissing too willing ones iz about az unfragant a recreation, az making boquets out ov dandelions.
The kind ov kissing that I am talking about iz the kind that must do it, or spile.
If yu sarch the rekords ever so lively, yu kant find the author ov the first kiss; kissing, like mutch other good things, iz anonymous.
But thare iz such natur in it, sitch a world ov language without words, sitch a heap ov pathos without fuss, so much honey, and so little water, so cheap, so sudden, and so neat a mode of striking up an acquaintance, that i consider it a good purchase, that Adam giv, and got, the fust kiss.
Who kan imagin a grater lump ov earthly bliss, reduced tew a finer thing, than kissing the only woman on earth, in the garden of Eden.
Adam wan’t the man, i don’t beleave, tew pass sich a hand
I may be wrong in mi konklusions, but if enny boddy kan date kissing further back, i would like tew see them do it.
I don’t know whether the old stoick philosophers ever kist enny boddy or not, if they did, they probably did it, like drawing a theorem on a black board, more for the purpose of proving sumthing else.
I do hate to see this delightful and invigorating beverage adulturated, it iz nektar for the gods, i am often obliged tew stand still, and see kissing did, and not say a word, that haint got enny more novelty, nor meaning in it, than throwing stones tew a mark.
I saw two maiden ladys kiss yesterday on the north side ov Union square, 5 times in less than 10 minnitts; they kist every time they bid each other farewell, and then immediately thought ov sumthing else they hadn’t sed. I couldn’t tell for the life ov me whether the kissing waz the effekt ov what they sed, or what they sed waz the effekt ov the kissing. It waz a which, and tother, scene.
Cross-matched kissing iz undoubtedly the strength ov the game. It iz trew thare iz no stattu regulashun aginst two females kissing each other; but i don’t think thare iz much pardon for it, unless it iz done to keep tools in order; and two men kissing each other iz prima face evidence ov deadbeatery.
Kissing that passes from parent to child, and back agin seems to be az necessary az shinplasters, to do bizzness with; and kissing that hussbands give and take iz simply gathering ripe fruit from ones own plumb tree, that would otherwise drop oph, or be stolen.
Tharefore