Artemus Ward (1834 – 1867)
Nom de plume of Charles Farrar Browne, an American humorous writer.
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N.B. This is rote sarcastikul.
My pollertics, like my religion, being of an exceedin' accommodatin' character.
The Puritans nobly fled from a land of despotism to a land of freedim, where they could not only enjoy their own religion, but could prevent everybody else from enjoyin his.
They cherish his mem'ry, and them as sell picturs of his birthplace, etc., make it prof'tible cherishin' it.
He is dreadfully married. "He's the most married man I ever saw in my life."
The female woman is one of the greatest institooshuns of which this land can boste.
Did you ever have the measels, and if so, how many?
...their eyes sparkled like diminds, their cheeks was like roses, and they was charmin enuff to make a man throw stuns at his granmother, if they axed him to.
I now bid you a welcome adoo.
Why is this thus? What is the reason of this thusness?
The prevailin' weakness of most public men is to Slop over. G. Washington never slopt over.
The fack can't be no longer disgised that a Krysis is onto us.
The sun has a right to "set" where it wants to, and so, I may add, has a hen.
I can't sing. As a singist I am not a success. I am saddest when I sing. So are those who hear me. They are sadder even than I am.
I am not a politician, and my other habits are good, also.
Let us all be happy and live within our means, even if we have to borrow the money to do it with.
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