Josh Billings - The Complete Works of Josh Billings

I hav grate phaith in enny job that natur turns out, and i had rather hav phaith than knowledge, it saves a grate deal ov hard work. It costs a grate deal to kno all about things, and then yu ain’t certain, but phaith iz cheap, and don’t make enny blunders.

Science iz smart, but she kant tell yu what makes the flowers blush so menny different colors, but phaith can. Science on a deth bed iz a pigmy, but phaith iz a giant.

The striped snake iz one ov the slipperyest jobs that natur ever turned loose.

They travel on the lower side ov themselfs, and kan slip out ov sight like blowing out a kandle. They were made for sum good purpose, but i never hav bin informed for what, unless it waz tew hav their heds smashed.

They are sed tew be innocent, but they hav got a bad reputashun, and all the innocence in the world won’t kure a bad reputashun.

They liv in the grass but seldom git stept on, bekauze they don’t stay long enuff in the right place.

When i waz a little boy, and wore naked feet, and waz loafing around loose for strawberrys, i waz often times just a going tew step on a striped snaik, but it alwus cured me ov strawberrys.

If a striped snaik got into a 10-aker lot before i did, i alwus konsidered that all the strawberrys in that lot belonged tew the snaik.

“Fust cum, fust sarve,” was mi motto.

I am just az fraid ov snaiks now az i waz 40 years ago, and if i should liv tew be az old az Nebudkennezer waz, and go tew grass as he did, one striped snaik would spile 50 akers ov good pasture for me.

Wimmin don’t luv snaiks enny more than i do, and i respekt her for this.

How on earth Eve waz seduced by a snaik, iz a fust class mistery tew me, and if i hadn’t read it in the bible, i would bet aginst it.

I beleave everything thare iz in the bible, the things i kant understand, I beleave the most.

I wouldn’t swop oph the phaith i hav got for any living man’s knoweledge.

Snaiks are all sorts, and all sizes, and the smaller they are, the more i am afrade ov them.

I wouldn’t buy a farm at haff price that had a striped snaik on it.

Ded snaik are a weakness with me; i always respekt them, and whenever i see a ded one in the road, i dont drop a tear on him, but i drop another stone on him, for fear he might alter his mind and cum tew life agin, for a snaik hates tew die just az much az a kat duz.

I never could ackount for a snaik or a kat hateing tew die so bad, unless it waz bekauze they waz so poorly prepared for deth.

Babys i luv with all mi heart; they are mi sweetmeats, they warm up mi blood like a gin sling, they krawl into me and nestle by the side ov mi soul, like a kitten under a cook stove.

I hav raized babys miself, and kno what i am talking about.

I hav got grandchildren, and they are wuss than the fust krop tew riot amung the feelings.

If i could hav mi way, i would change all the human beings now on the face ov the earth back into babys at once, and keep them thare, and make this footstool one grand nussery; but what i should do for wet nusses i don’t kno, nor don’t care.

I would like tew have 15 babys now on mi lap, and mi lap ain’t the handyest lap in the world for babys, neither.

My lap iz long enuff, but not the widest kind ov a lap.

I am a good deal ov a man, but i konsist ov length principally, and when i make a lap ov miself, it iz not a mattrass, but more like a couple ov rails with a jint in them.

I can hold more babys in mi lap at once, than any man in Amerika, without spilling one, but it hurts the babys.

I never saw a baby in mi life that i didn’t want tew kiss; i am wuss than an old maid in this respekt.

I hav seen babys that i hav refused tew kiss untill they had been washt; but the baby want tew blame for this, neither waz i.

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“Artemus Ward, His Book,” p. 316.