Josh Billings

In writing the biographi ov horns, i am astonished tew find so menny ov them, and so entirely different in their pedigree and pretenshuns.

“Cape Horn.”—Cape Horn iz the biggest horn known to man.

It iz a native ov the extreme bottom ov South Amerika, and gores the oshun.

Cape Horn iz hollow, and akts az a phunnell for the winds, which hurry thru it in mutch haste, cauzing the waters ov the sea for a grate distance tew bekum crazy, which frightens the vessells that go by thare, and makes them rare and pitch tremenjus.

This horn iz like a sour old bull in the hiway, and dont seem tew be ov enny use, only tew make folks go out ov their way tew git round it.

“Horn ov a dilemma.”—Dilemma iz derived from the siamese verb “diloss,” which means a tite spot, and haz a horn on each end ov it.

Thare iz no choice in theze two horns; if yu seize one ov them the other may perforate yu, and if yu dont take either both of them may pitch into you.

I always avoid them if possible, but when possibility gives out, mi rule iz tew shut up both eyes, and fite both prongs with mi whole grit.

Nine times out ov ten this will smash a dilemma, and it iz alwus a good fite if yu git licked the tenth.

Yu kant argy or reason with the horn ov a dilemma, the only way iz tew advance in and fight for the gross amount.

“Cow’s Horn.”—Two bony projeckshuns, curved, crooked 60 or strate, worn bi the cows on the apeks of their heds, for ornament in times ov peace, and used when they go into war tew stab with.

Theze horns are a kind ov family rechord.

At three years old a ring appears on the bottom ov the horn next tew the hed, and each year after a fresh ring iz born.

In this way the cows kno how old they are.

IN A HORN.

Sumtimes theze 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 61 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 62 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.