  THE GASSY MAN.The gassy man iz a kind ov itinerant soda fountain, a sort ov hi-preshure reservoi ov soap-suds, who spouts bubles and foam, whenever he opens hiz mouth. Theze quacks in the small beer line, hav but phew branes, but their branes are like yeast, they kant rize without running over every thing. I have known them tew argy a point 3 hours and a half, and never offer one good reazon in the whole time. They mistake words for ideas, and their tongues travel 501 tew just about az mutch purpose az a boy’s wind mill duz, in the teeth ov a stiff nor wester. They are the vainest ov all human beings that hav yit bin discovered, and think, bekauze people kant eskape their furios effervescence, they are pleazed and convinced. I never knu one ov theze windmills yet, but what thought Soloman waz almost an ideot kompared tew them, and I never knu one to ever diskover hiz mistake. Yu mite az well undertake tew git the pride out ov a pekocks tail, bi laffing at it, az to convinse theze phellows that what they say aint either wit or wisdum. The gassy man iz not bi enny means a bad man at heart, he iz often az good natured az he is phoolish, but hiz friendship aint worth mutch more tew yu than the luv ov a lost pup, who iz reddy tew phollow enny one off who will pat him on the back. THE SHARP MAN.The sharp man iz often mistaken for the wize one, but he iz just az diffrent from a wize one az he iz from an honest one. He trusts tew hiz cunning for suckcess, and this iz the next thing to being a rogue. The sharp man iz like a razor—generally too sharp for enny thing but a shave. Theze men are not tew be trusted—they are so constituted that they must cheat sumboddy, and, rather than be idle or lose a good job, they will pitch onto their best friends. They are not exackly outkasts, but liv cluss on the borders ov criminality, and are liable tew step over at enny time. It iz but a step from cunning tew raskality, and it iz a step that iz alwuss inviting to take. Sharp men hav but phew friends, and seldum a konfident. They hav learnt tew fear treachery by studying their own naturs. They are alwuss bizzy, but like the hornet, want a heap ov sharp watching. 502The sharp man iz alwuss a vain one. He prides himself upon his cunning, and had rather do a shrewd thing than a kind one. THE LAZY MAN.Next tew the weak man the lazy man iz the wust one i kno ov, without necessarily being a viscious one. He iz too indolent tew praktiss hiz virtews, if he haz got enny, and therefore iz konstantly open tew vice, which iz haff-brother tew lazyness. It iz hard work tew phind lazyness and virtew mixt, but thare iz sitch a thing. Indolence iz one ov the wust mildews i kno ov—it iz the grate leak that haz let thousands ov men drizzle away. Lazyness iz not positively a crime, but they look and akt wonderphully alike. Lazyness iz not ornamental even tew an old man, but tew a yung one it iz a shining disgrase. I hav seen lazy men that i thought waz innocent, but i never felt like warrenting one ov them for more than 90 daze. THE NERVOUS MAN.One ov the most unkumfortable kritters in this world iz the nervus man. He discounts all hiz griefs, and suffers more from trubbles that never happen, than enny boddy else duz from trubbles that do cum. Hiz ears are like a rabbits, always on end for sum disaster, and hiz nostrils are like the asses, snuffing misfortune out ov the east wind. He steps az though he waz walking on eggs, and lays down like a kat in frunt ov a rat hole, reddy for a spring. Theze poor phellows suffer without simpathy, and enjoy without satisfacshun. The nervous man iz a long lived bird, though hiz nerves are alwus strung, he lasts like an old phiddle. Altho i kant help but pitty the nervus man i am aware 503 that he haz moments ov plezzure that are equal tew whole hours, they are so intensified. Whatever he duz enjoy he enjoys the whole ov, passing the bounds ov reality, he revels in the illimitable fields ov imaginashun and fancy. I think I would rather have more nerves than i could manage than not tew hav enny, and mope on thru life az sum men do, with nothing about me so exciteable az mi relish for pork and beans. THE DIGNIFIED MAN.It iz often the kase that the dignified man iz nothing more than an owl amung humans. He dont alwus kno but little, but when he duz he haz tew be kareful ov that little and look wize even if he dont prove tew be so. One good hoss laff would spile him for life; if he lets go ov hiz dignity, hiz kapital iz all gone and he iz ruined forever. The dignified man that i am talking about, never takes enny chances, he weighs every word before it iz uttered, and meazzures every ackshun before it iz expressed, and iz generally az free from blunders, or hits, az a tud stool iz. If he ever duz kik up and frolik he iz like the elastik elephant, and gay and kussid like the hippopotamus or wild sea hoss. Dignity iz often substituted for wisdum, and iz quite often mistaken for it, but thare iz az mutch diffrence between them az thare iz between a puter 10 cent piece and a genuine haff dollar. I decided long ago not tew giv enny man kredit for being wize, just bekauze he wouldn’t bend hiz back or laff when he had a right tew be tickled. Sum ov the most suckcessfull phools i hav ever met were as grave az a kut stone, and most all the truly wize that i hav had the honor tew be introduced to, were alwuss a hunting for a good place tew roll on the grass. Extreme gravity, in mi lexicon, stands for an extreme phool. 504THE WEAK MAN.A weak man wants just about az mutch watching az a bad one, and haz dun just about as mutch damage in the world. He iz every boddy’s friend, and tharefore he iz no ones, and what he iz a going tew do next iz az unknown tew him as tew others. He haint got enny more backbone than an angleworm haz, and wiggles in and wiggles out ov every thing. He will talk to-day like a wize man, and to-morrow like a phool, on the same subjekt. He alwuss sez “Yes,” when he should say “No,” and staggers thru life like a drunken man. Heaven save us from the weak man, whoze deseptions hav no fraud in them, and whoze friendships are the wuss desighns he kan hav on us. JOSH BILLINGS HAVING FINISHED HIS BOOK, MEDITATES SUICIDE, BUT IS A LITTLE UNCERTAIN AS TO THE MODE. TRANSCRIBER’S NOTEList of changes from the printed edition:
|
|
