The Complete Works of Josh Billings

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.

But the consumation iz tew see the wife a mother, leading out six little chicks a bugging; six little chicks no bigger than bumbelbees.

It seems tew be necessary that there should be sumthing outrageous in evrything, tew show us whare propriety ends and impropriety begins. This iz melancholly, the case in the rooster affair, for we hav the shanghi rooster, the gratest outrage, in mi opinyun, ever committed in the annals ov poultry.

Theze kritters are the camels amung fowls, they mope around the barnyard, tipping over the hay racks and stepping on the yung goslins, and evry now and then they crow confusion.

If enny body should giv me a shanghi rooster i should halter him, and keep him in a box stall, and feed him on cut feed, and if he would work kind in harness, all right, if not, i would butcher him the fust wet day that cum, and salt him down tew give tew the poor.

But thare ain’t noboddy a going tew giv me one ov this breed, knot if i know it, i don’t think thare iz a man on earth mean enuff to do it.

Roosters do but very little household work, they wont lay enny eggs, nor try tew hatch enny, nor see tew the yung ones; this satisfys me that thare is sum truth in the mythologikal ackount ov the rooster’s fust origin.

Yu kant git a rooster to pay enny attenshun tew a yung one, they spend their time in crowing, strutting, and occassionly find a worm, which they make a remarkabell fuss over, calling up their wifes from a distance, apparently tew treat them, but just az the hens git thare, this elegant and elaborate cuss bends over and gobbles up the morsel.

Just like a man, for all the world.

THE FOX

Of all the beasts who roam the hill tops, or clime the plains, thare is none who makes so few blunders, and so many good hits as the fox.

His shewdness iz more than a match for the lion’s strength, his logick iz more than a match for the malice ov the wolf and hiz politeness and defference makes him the fop and gentleman ov the forest.

The fox is a literary cuss; he haz been the hero ov history, fable, and song, from the fust dawn ov oral or written knowledge. He waz a genius long before ackedemick honors flourished; he waz a poet, skoller and sage before the days ov Homer and Herodotus, and now, in our times, he is the Ben Butler ov diplomacy an the Brigham Young ov matrimony.

The fox is purely a game bird. It costs on an average fifty dollars tew ketch him, and when he iz caught he aint worth more than ten shillings. He follers no regular bizzness for sustenance, but livs on the chances and on hiz wit.

He iz a fleshy-minded sinner, and hiz blandness iz too mutch for the quaintness ov the goose, the melankolly reserve ov the turkey, or the pompous rhetorick ov the rooster. They all kneel tew the logick of hiz tounge, and find themselfs at rest in his stummuk.

He luvs lam & green peas, but will diskount the peas rather than lose hiz dinner, and will go a mile and a half out ov his way to be polite to a duck or a goslin.

But the most lively trait in the fox iz his cunning; he alwas pettyfogs hiz own case, and wins a great deal oftener than he loses.

Foxes are not like men, kritters ov habit; they never do a thing twice with the same figures, and often alter their mind before they do a thing once. This is the effect of too mutch genius.

There iz this difference between genius and common sense in a fox: Common sense iz governed bi circumstances, but circumstances iz governed by genius.

The fox haz no moral honesty, but he haz got a grate supply ov politikal honesty. If another fox in his parish wants a phatt goose, he will work hard and get the goose for him, and then clean the meat all oph from the outskirts ov the goose for pettyfogging the case, and giv him the bones, and tell hiz politikal friend, with a smile in the left corner of his eye, that “everything is lovely and the goose hangs high.”

Foxes have learnt this piety from watching the men git geese for each other, and if animals don’t want their piety tew git sour, they must keep away from the men week days. The fox is tew mutch ov a pollytician to invest his religion in enny sich indigenous trash. He knows that sosiety haz claims on him, and are indebted tew him for sum goose, and expekt to be for several more. This iz a nobel trait in the fox, and shows that he aint a child ov ingratitude.

Foxes cum out ov the ground, but whether they are made out ov dirt i kant sware with much certainty. They cum out ov the ground through the instrumentality ov a hole, but whether the hole begins at the surface and runs into the mountain, or whether it begins in the mountain and runs tew the surface, don’t make a kussid bit ov difference.

But philosophers hav argued about this hole bizzness for years. Sum ov them say it runs in, and sum ov them be darned if it duz; and right here we can see the amazing difference between the logick ov the philosophers and the logick ov the fox. While they stand fiteing at the mouth ov the hole, the fox iz stealing their ducks and goslins.

Foxes are like cunning men – they hav but few brains, and but a small place tew keep them in, but what few they hav got are like angle worms in hot water – full ov anxiety and mizery.

Cunning is a branding iron; the letters on it are small, but alwus red-hot, and they read thus – Look out for the fox.

A YARN. – THE AUNT, AND THE GRASSHOPPER

Once on a previous time, about four hundred thousand years ago, in the old ov the moon, during a verry dry spell ov weather, just after a hard frost, when grass butter waz skass, while venus was an evening star. An old ant, who had lost awl ov her front teeth, and waz twisted with the rhumatiz, and a pollypurse in her noze, sot in an eazy chair, near the front door ov an aunt hill, superintendin a phatt kurnell ov wheat, which the yung aunts were trieing tew git down cellar, into their house.

Jisst then along cum a loafing grasshopper, smoking a pipe, and singing, “Begone dull care, i pray thee begone from me.” – and spieing the old ant, giving orders tew the yung aunts, he stopt tew hav a talk with her.

“Good morning, old mother Industry, good morning!” sed the grassbug. “A fine cernal ov wheat that, yu are rooling in!

“Hav yu heard the grate news?

“Dredfull sharp frost last night!

“Winter will soon set in, i reckon!

“I herd the owls hute last nite!

“Terribel bad acksident on the Harlem road yesterday!

“When dew yu think specie payments will be took up?

“Thare! mi pipe haz gone out, kant yu lend me a match?

“How menny aunts hav yu got in yure village?

“Enny sickness amungst them?

“I wonder if thare iz enny truth in the dispatch, that the pissmires, down on Sandy Creek, hav all struck for higher wages?

“Who do yu think yure ants will vote for for justiss ov the peace?

“What iz yure sold opinyun ov the new license law, will it make rum enny skarser?

“Do yu buy enny grocerys ov old Ferguson, i hope not, he iz a mean old skinflinter, he sold me, only last week, a peace ov bar sope, for sum beeswax.

“The world iz gitting more full ov wussness every day!

“I wonder if thare iz enny truth in what every boddy sez, about old Square Benson, that he kant pay, only now and then sum ov hiz dets!

“Do yu see much ov the krickets now a days?