Josh Billings - The Complete Works of Josh Billings

A mouse’s tale iz az unhairy az a shustring. This iz another thing that bothers the philosophers, and i aint agoing to explain it unless i am paid for it.

I hav alreddy explained a grate menny things in the nuzepapers that i never got a cent for.

There aint nothing on earth that will fit a hole so snug az a mouse will. Yu would think they waz made on purpose for it, and they will fill it quicker, too, than ennything i ever saw. If yu want to see a mouse enter hiz hole, yu mustn’t wink. If do, yu will hav tew wait till next time.

I luv mice. They seem tew belong to us.

Rats i dont luv. They lack refinement.

Dogs hav infested this world just about az long az man haz, and will hang around it, az long az thare is enny grizzle left on a bone.

We hav no reliable ackount ov the fust dog, and probably shant hav ov the final one.

If Adam kept a tarrier, or Eve a poodle, the laps of ages hav washed away the fakt.

If Noah had a pair ov each breed ov dogs, on board ov hiz vessell, and only one pair ov fleas, he waz well ont for dogs, and poor ont for fleas. But history iz numb on this subjekt.

Esaw waz a mity hunter, but whether he kept a houn, or followed the cent himself, iz az ded, and departed to us, az the chirp ov the fust reliable cricket.

We read that Esaw sold out hiz birth rite for soup, and menny wonder at hiz extravegance, but Esaw diskovered arly, what menny a man haz diskovered since, that it iz hard work tew live on a pedigree.

If i waz starving, I wouldn’t hesitate tew swap oph all the pedigree I had, and all mi relashuns had, for a quart of pottage, and throw two grate grandfathers into the bargain.

But I don’t intend this essa for dogs in the lump, but for the individual yellar dog himself.

The yellar dog haz no pedigree, the blood in hiz veins iz az krude az petroleum, when it fust cums pumping out ov the earth, bitter, thick, and fiery.

He iz long, and lazily put together, hiz ears flop when he shacks along the dusty thoroughfare, and hiz tail iz a burden.

Thare iz no animashun in a yeller dog’s tail, it iz useless, the flies aint even afraid ov it, it iz wus than a 10 per cent mortgage tew the rest ov hiz boddy.

Whi the Yeller dog aint born diskounted, iz a mistery tew me, but when i ask miself, “Whare would yu hitch the tin pan to,” then at once the folly ov a bob tailed yeller dog, flashes on mi mind.

Ever since this kontinent waz found bi Christopher Columbus, in 1492, and for what i kno, much time previous tew that, the Yeller dog haz been a vagrant, travelling bi moon lite, and hungry bi natur.

Whare he cums from noboddy seems to know, and if yu speak a kind word tew him, he thinks it a kite in disguise, and straddling hiz tail, with both hind legs, he goes suspicious, and sideways, on his lonesum jurney.

Mankind hav made him a vagabond, and life to him iz made up ov starvashun, and brickbats.

If he cums out ov hiz lurking place in the hot ov august, he iz a “ mad dog ,” and the common council at once assemble, the riot act iz read, 50 dollars reward iz offered, men cum panting into town, crieing “ mad dog ,” their two horse waggon waz bit that morning, bi a yaller dog, the fury rages, old guns are kleaned up, the cannon iz run out on the village green, dames talk to dames ov the awful event, men look sober and defiant, boys pocket their marbles in the midst ov the game, pigs run squealing tew their hovels, and the whole boddy politik surges with horror.

The poor innocent whelp haz done hiz worst, and while a whole village iz in the extacys ov hydrophobia he has passed on, and may be seen, tugging away, in the subburbs, at the shin bone ov a departed omnibus hoss.

The yeller dog haz but one friend among men, and that iz the darkey.

A common misfortune links them together.

Why iz it, that the old negro, and hiz yeller dog, are vagabonds on the face ov the earth?

Mans inhumanity iz wuss than the malice ov wild beasts.

A day ov reckoning will cum, a day ov judgment, and i kant tell but what the yeller dog will be thare, a mute witness, and then, and thare, will the grate problem be solved.

This wurld iz phull ov grate wrongs, and the next one will az certainly be az phull ov grate retribushuns.

I kant endure the sight ov oppreshun, it disgraces mi manhood, if i had money enuff i would like tew buy even all the yeller dogs thare iz now on the buzzum ov the earth, and make them respekted and happy.

But i haint got the money, nor never shall hav, but az long az i hav strength tew steer a gooze quill, and blood enuff in mi heart for ink, i will bid mankind beware ov oppreshun, i dont kare whether it is in hi places or low, the oppreshun ov caste, the oppreshun ov wealth, or even the low, and degrading oppreshun, ov a tin pale, in hot pursuit, ov the friendless, yelping, yeller dog.

Yeller dogs will sumtime, and sumwhare, hav their day, and when the huge piles ov brikbats, and mountains ov old tin ware, cums into court, i want tew be thare, for i am anxious tew know what the line ov defence will be.

Thare is not on the whole horizon or ov live natur a more pleazing and strengthening studdy than the Rooster. This remarkable package of feathers has bin for ages food for philosophik, as well as the simple currious mind. They belong tew the feathered sekt denominated poultry, and are the husbands of menny wives. In Utah it is konsidered a disgrace tew speak disrespekful of a rooster. Brigham Young’s coat ov arms is a rooster, in full blast, crowing till he is almost bent over double backwards.

The flesh ov the rooster is very similar tew the flesh ov the hen; it is hard tew distinguish the diffrence espeshily in yure soup. Roosters are the pugilists amung the domestik burds; they wear the belt, and having no shoulder tew strike from, they strike from the heel.

Roosters, according to profane history, if mi edukashun remembers me right, were formerly a man, who come suddenly upon one ov the heathen gods, at a time when he want prepared tew see company, and waz, fur that offense, rebuilt over into the fust rooster, and waz forever afterward destined to crow, as a kind ov warning. This change from a man akounts for their fighting abilities, and for their politeness tew the hens. Thare is nothing in a man that a woman admires more than his reddyness and ability tew smash another fellow, and it iz jiss so with a hen. When a rooster gits licked, the hens all march oph with the other rooster, if he ain’t haff so big or handsome.

It iz pluck that wins a hen or a woman.

Thare iz grate variety ov pedigree amung the rooster race, but for stiddy bizzness give me the old fash dominique rooster, short-legged, and when they walk, they alwus strut, and their buzzums stick out, like an alderman’s abdominal cupboard. This breed iz hawk-colored, and haz a crooked tail on them, arched like a sickle, and az full ov feathers as a new duster.

But when you come right down to grit, and throw all outside influences overboard, thare aint nothing on earth, nor under it, that kan out-style, out-step, out-brag, or out-pluck a regular Bantam rooster.

They alwus put me in mind ov a small dandy, prakticing before a looking-glass.

They don’t weigh more than 30 ounces, but they make az mutch fuss az a ton, i have seen them trieing tew pik a quarrel with a two hoss waggon, and don’t think they would hesitate tew fight a meeting house, if it waz the least bit sassy tew them.

It is more than fun tew hear one ov these little chevaliers crow, it iz like a four-year old baby trieing tew sing a line out ov the Star Spangled Banner.

The hen partner in this concern iz the most exquisit little boquet ov neatness and feathers that the eye ever roosted on. They are az prim az a premature yung lady. It is a luxury to watch their daintyness, tew see them lay each feather with their bills, in its place, and preside over themselfs with az mutch delikasy and pride az a belle before her mirror.