After a while we got cheerful and sung "ale Columby" (it's a fine voice the Squire has for a doo-et). Respect for the soshul Borde makes me now cave in and klose my commoonication. Squire — is a grate filantherpist, but he's not grate at stowing away his lick-er. I tuk him to bed after the 3d tumbler, that the cuss of a british Waiter might not see one of us free & enlightened citizens onable to walk strate. He said it was a wet night, and demanded his umburella. Likewise he wouldn't hev his boots off, for fere of catchin cold. I put the candle in the wash-basan that the critter mightn't set hisself on fire, and left him in bed with his umburella up, singing "Ale columby."
Arter that I went down and finished the mahogany. (Brandy and water, the ruddy appearance of which indicates that very little of the latter has been used in its composition. Spanish is the stronger, and Honduras the milder mixture.)
A. WARD.
7.22. A. WARD AMONG THE MORMONS.—REPORTED BY HIMSELF—OR SOMEBODY ELSE.
(The following rough report of Artemus Ward's Lecture in California Appeared in the "San Francisco Era," during the lecturer's visit to that city. It has been thought worthy of preservation in the form of a supplementary paper to the present little volume.
FELLER-CITIZENS AND FELLER-CITIZENESSES,—I feel truly glad to see you here to-night, more especially those who have paid, although I am too polite to say how many are here who have not paid, but who take a base advantage of the good-nature of my friend and manager, Hingston, bothering him to give them free tickets, gratis, and also for nothing; and my former friend and manager, Rosenberg, assures me that the best way to prevent a person from enjoying any entertainment is to admit them without the equivalent spondulics. What a man gets for nothing he don't care for.
Talking of free tickets, my first lecture was a wonderful success— house so full that everybody who could pay turned from the doors. It happened thus:
Walking about Salt Lake City on the morning before the lecture, I met
Elder Kimball. Well, I most imprudently gave him a family ticket.
That ticket filled the house, and left about a dozen of the young
Kimballs howling in the cold. After that I limited my family tickets
to "Admit Elder Jones, ten wives, and thirty children."
You may perhaps be astonished that I, a rather fascinating bachelor, escaped from Salt Lake City without the loss of my innocence. Well I will confess, confidentially, that was only by the skin of my teeth, and thanks to the virtuous lecturing of my friend Hingston, whose British prejudices amainst Bigamy, Trigamy, and Brighamy, saying nothing of Ninnygavigamy, could not be overcome.
My narrowest escape was this: