Humorous Masterpieces from American Literature

Various

Description

Add some levity to your reading list with this compilation of some of the wittiest and most amusing humor writing from the American literary canon. Bringing together essays, vignettes and short stories from an array of authors, including Little Women scribe Louisa May Alcott, this delightful volume is sure to ease your cares and bring a smile to your face.

Informations

• Publié par: The Floating Press
• Date de parution: 01 mai 2014
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781776535637
• Langue: English

Extrait

HUMOROUS MASTERPIECES FROM AMERICAN LITERATURE
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VARIOUS
 
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Humorous Masterpieces from American Literature First published in 1886 Epub ISBN 978-1-77653-563-7 Also available: PDF ISBN 978-1-77653-564-4 © 2013 The Floating Press and its licensors. All rights reserved. While every effort has been used to ensure the accuracy and reliability of the information contained in The Floating Press edition of this book, The Floating Press does not assume liability or responsibility for any errors or omissions in this book. The Floating Press does not accept responsibility for loss suffered as a result of reliance upon the accuracy or currency of information contained in this book. Do not use while operating a motor vehicle or heavy equipment. Many suitcases look alike. Visit www.thefloatingpress.com
Contents
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Bayard Taylor - Selections from the Experiences of the A.C. William Allen Butler - Dobbs His Ferry John William de Forest - Father Higgins's Preferment John Townsend Trowbridge - Fred Trover's Little Iron-Clad Oliver Bell Bunce - Mr. Bluff Discourses of the Country and Kindred Themes Charles Dudley Warner - Garden Ethics Charles Dudley Warner - The Plumber Frances Lee Pratt - Captain Ben's Choice Louisa May Alcott - Street Scenes in Washington Louisa May Alcott - Selections from Transcendental Wild Oats William Wirt Howe - Conversational Depravity Charles Farrar Browne - The Tower of London Charles Farrar Browne - Science and Natural History Charles Farrar Browne - From the "Lecture" Frank R. Stockton - Our Tavern Frank R. Stockton - A Piece of Red Calico Harriet Prescott Spofford - Aunt Pen's Funeral Samuel Langhorne Clemens - The Celebrated Jumping Frog of Calaveras County Fitz Hugh Ludlow - Ben Thirlwall's Schooldays Fitz Hugh Ludlow - Selections from a Brace of Boys Thomas Bailey Aldrich - A Rivermouth Romance
Bayard Taylor - Selections from the Experiences of the A.C.
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(BORN, 1825—DIED, 1878)
"Bridgeport! Change cars for the Naugatuck Railroad!" shouted theconductor of the New York and Boston Express Train, on the evening ofMay 27, 1858.... Mr. Johnson, carpet-bag in hand, jumped upon theplatform, entered the office, purchased a ticket for Waterbury, and wassoon whirling in the Naugatuck train towards his destination.
On reaching Waterbury, in the soft spring twilight, Mr. Johnson walkedup and down in front of the station, curiously scanning the faces of theassembled crowd. Presently he noticed a gentleman who was performing thesame operation upon the faces of the alighting passengers. Throwinghimself directly in the way of the latter, the two exchanged a steadygaze.
"Is your name Billings?" "Is your name Johnson?" were simultaneousquestions, followed by the simultaneous exclamations,—"Ned!" "Enos!"
Then there was a crushing grasp of hands, repeated after a pause, intestimony of ancient friendship, and Mr. Billings, returning topractical life asked:
"Is that all your baggage? Come, I have a buggy here: Eunice has heardthe whistle, and she'll be impatient to welcome you."
The impatience of Eunice (Mrs. Billings, of course) was not of longduration; for in five minutes thereafter she stood at the door of herhusband's chocolate-colored villa, receiving his friend....
J. Edward Johnson was a tall, thin gentleman of forty-five.... A yearbefore, some letters, signed "Foster, Kirkup, & Co., per Enos Billings,"had accidentally revealed to him the whereabouts of the old friend ofhis youth with whom we now find him domiciled....
"Enos," said he, as he stretched out his hand for the third cup of tea(which he had taken only for the purpose of prolonging the pleasanttable-chat), "I wonder which of us is most changed."
"You, of course," said Mr. Billings, "with your brown face and bigmoustache. Your own brother wouldn't have known you, if he had seen youlast, as I did, with smooth cheeks and hair of unmerciful length. Why,not even your voice is the same!"
"That is easily accounted for," replied Mr. Johnson. "But in your case,Enos, I am puzzled to find where the difference lies. Your features seemto be but little changed, now that I can examine them at leisure; yet itis not the same face. But really, I never looked at you for so long atime, in those days. I beg pardon; you used to be so—so remarkablyshy."
Mr. Billings blushed slightly, and seemed at a loss what to answer. Hiswife, however, burst into a merry laugh, exclaiming:
"Oh, that was before the days of the A.C.!"
He, catching the infection, laughed also; in fact, Mr. Johnson laughed,but without knowing why.
"The 'A.C.'!" said Mr. Billings. "Bless me, Eunice! how long it is sincewe have talked of that summer! I had almost forgotten that there everwas an A.C.... Well, the A.C. culminated in '45. You remember somethingof the society of Norridgeport, the last winter you were there? AbelMallory, for instance?"
"Let me think a moment," said Mr. Johnson, reflectively. "Really, itseems like looking back a hundred years. Mallory,—wasn't that thesentimental young man, with wispy hair, a tallowy skin, and big, sweatyhands, who used to be spouting Carlyle on the 'reading evenings' atShelldrake's? Yes, to be sure; and there was Hollins, with his clericalface and infidel talk,—and Pauline Ringtop, who used to say, 'TheBeautiful is the Good.' I can still hear her shrill voice singing,'Would that I were beautiful, would that I were fair!'"
There was a hearty chorus of laughter at poor Miss Ringtop's expense. Itharmed no one, however; for the tar-weed was already thick over herCalifornian grave.
"Oh, I see," said Mr. Billings, "you still remember the absurdities ofthose days. In fact, I think you partially saw through them then. But Iwas younger, and far from being so clearheaded, and I looked upon thoseevenings at Shelldrake's as being equal, at least, to the symposia ofPlato. Something in Mallory always repelled me. I detested the sight ofhis thick nose, with the flaring nostrils, and his coarse, half-formedlips, of the bluish color of raw corned-beef. But I looked upon thesefeelings as unreasonable prejudices, and strove to conquer them, seeingthe admiration which he received from others. He was an oracle on thesubject of 'Nature.' Having eaten nothing for two years, except Grahambread, vegetables without salt, and fruits, fresh or dried, heconsidered himself to have attained an antediluvian purity ofhealth,—or that he would attain it, so soon as two pimples on his lefttemple should have healed. These pimples he looked upon as the lastfeeble stand made by the pernicious juices left from the meat he hadformerly eaten and the coffee he had drunk. His theory was, that througha body so purged and purified none but true and natural impulses couldfind access to the soul. Such, indeed, was the theory we all held....
"Shelldrake was a man of more pretence than real cultivation, as Iafterwards discovered. He was in good circumstances, and always glad toreceive us at his house, as this made him virtually the chief of ourtribe, and the outlay for refreshments involved only the apples from hisown orchard, and water from his well....
"Well, 't was in the early part of '45,—I think in April,—when wewere all gathered together, discussing, as usual, the possibility ofleading a life in accordance with Nature. Abel Mallory was there, andHollins, and Miss Ringtop, and Faith Levis, with her knitting,—and alsoEunice Hazleton, a lady whom you have never seen, but you may take mywife as her representative....
"I wish I could recollect some of the speeches made on that occasion.Abel had but one pimple on his temple (there was a purple spot where theother had been), and was estimating that in two or three months more hewould be a true, unspoiled man. His complexion, nevertheless, was moreclammy and whey-like than ever.
"'Yes,' said he, 'I also am an Arcadian! This false dual existence whichI have been leading will soon be merged in the unity of Nature. Ourlives must conform to her sacred law. Why can't we strip off thesehollow Shams,' (he made great use of that word,) 'and be our trueselves, pure, perfect, and divine?' ...
"Shelldrake, however, turning to his wife, said,—
"'Elviry, how many up-stairs rooms is there in that house down on theSound?'
"'Four,—besides three small ones under the roof. Why, what made youthink of that, Jesse?' said she.
"'I've got an idea, while Abel's been talking,' he answered. 'We'vetaken a house for the summer, down the other side of Bridgeport, righton the water, where there's good fishing and a fine view of the Sound.Now, there's room enough for all of us,—at least, all that can make itsuit to go. Abel, you and Enos, and Pauline and Eunice might fix mattersso that we could all take the place in partnership, and pass the summertogether, living a true and beautiful life in the bosom of Nature. Therewe shall be perfectly free and untrammelled by the chains which stillhang around us in Norridgeport. You know how often we have wanted to beset on some island in the Pacific Ocean, where we could build up a truesociety, right from the start. Now, here's a chance to try theexperiment for a few months, anyhow.'
"Eunice clapped her hands (yes, you did!) and cried out,—
"'Splendid! Arcadian! I'll give up my school for the summer.' ...
"Abel Mallory, of course, did not need to have the proposal repeated.He was ready for any thing which promised indolence, and the indulgenceof his sentimental tastes. I will do the fellow the justice to say thathe was not a hypocrite. He firmly believed both in himself and hisideas,—especially the former. He pushed both hands through the longwisps of his drab-colored hair, and threw his head back until his widenostrils resembled a double door to his brain.
"'O Nature!' he said, 'you have found your lost children! We shall obeyyour neglected laws! we shall hearken to your divine whispers! we shallbring you back from your ignominious exile, and place you on yourancestral throne!' ...
"The company was finally arra