I sot up a spell by the kitchen fire readin Lewis Napoleon's "Life of Julius Caesar." What a reckless old cuss he was! Yit Lewis picturs him in glowin cullers. Caesar made it lively for the boys in Gaul, didn't he? He slewd one million of citizens, male and female—Gauls and Gaulusses—and then he sold another million of 'em into slavery. He continnered this cheerful stile of thing for sum time, when one day he was 'sassinated in Rome by sum high-toned Roman gen'lmen, led on by Mr. Brutus. When old Bruty inserted his knife into him, Caesar admitted that he was gone up. His funeral was a great success, the house bein crowded to its utmost capacity. Ten minutes after the doors were opened, the Ushers had to put up cards on which was prntd, "Standin Room Only."
I went to bed at last. "And so," I said, "thou hast no ear for sweet melody?"
A silvery snore was my only answer.
BETSY SLEPT.
Artemus Ward.
7.6. ARTEMUS WARD IN WASHINGTON.
[The following paper was contributed by Mr. Browne to "Vanity Fair," the New York "Punch," which terminated its career during the late war. Some of the allusions are, of course, to matters long past; but the old fun and genuine humour of the showman are as enjoyable now as when first written.]
Washington, April 17, 1863.
My wife stood before the lookin-glass, a fussin up her hair.
"What you doin, Betsy?" I inquired.