The Complete Works of Josh Billings

Mudturkles liv in a shell, which tha git verry mutch attached to. Tha are not fond ov company, and seldom receive visitors in their houses. Their food consists prinsipally of what they eat, which tha find wharever tha kan git it. Their style iz haf land, and haf water, and tha are at home on the banks or at the bottom ov a kanal. Tha hav sum eggs, which tha lay in sum warm sand, and ginerally hav them hatched out tew the halves. Tha belong tew the class known az “close korporashuns,” and are a hard animil tew whip, bekause tha alwus fite under cover. The mudturkle kant climb very well, and therefore seldum iz found up a tree. Tha are verry tuff ov life, and will outlive an injun rubber shoe, and don’t seem tew gro old enny faster than a paving stone duz. Tha kan be domestikated without enny trubble; awl yu hav tew dew, iz tew put them into a barrel, and tha aint ap tew stray off far. Mudturkles hav their faults, but tha won’t lie, nor drink rum, nor chaw terbacker, and tho tha cant trot as fast az sum hosses kan, thare sure tew git tew whare tha go tew, and never brake down on the rode. I take a deep interest in moste awl the animils, and particularly in mudturkles, and i dew hope that the Legislature in their wisdum won’t pass a law “prohibiting enny more mudturkles.” I regret tew hear, that in sum parts ov the kuntry, the people are in the habit of using mudturkles tew pitch quoits with, but I think this wants an affidavy with a revenew stamp onto it.

THE FLY

The fly iz not only a domestik, but a friendly insek, without branes, but happily without guile.

They make their appearance amung mankind, a good deal az the wind duz, “whare it listeth.”

How they are exactly born, i haven’t been able yet tew investigate, but they are so universal at times, that i hav thought, they didn’t wait tew be born, but took the fust good chance that was offered, and cum just az they am.

They are sed tew be male and femail, but i dont think they konsider the marriage tie binding, for they look so mutch alike, that it would be a grate waste ov time, finding out wich waz who, and this would lead tew never ending fites, wich iz the rhubarb ov domestik life.

They make their annual visit about the first ov May, but don’t git tew buzzing good till the center ov August.

They stay with uz untill kold weather puts in an appearance, and then leave, a good deal az they cum, jist az they am.

Menny ov them are kut oph in the flower ov their yuth, and usefullness, but this don’t interfere with their census, for their iz another steps right into their place, and heirs their property.

Sum looze their lives bi lighting too near the rim ov a toad’s noze, and fall in, when the tud gaps, and others git badly stuck bi phooling with mollassis.

Sum visit the spiders, and are induced tew remain, and thousands find a watery grave, bi gitting drowned in milk cans.

The fly iz no respekter ov pussuns, he lights onto the pouting lips ov a sleeping darkey, jist az eazy az he duz onto the buzzum ov the queen ov buty, and will buzz an Alderman, or a hod-carrier, if they git in his way.

Flys, moraly konsidered, are like a large share ov the rest ov human folks, they wont settle on a good healthy spot in a man, not if they kan find a spot that iz a leetle raw.

Their principal food iz every thing, they will pitch into a ded snaik, or a quarter ov beef, with the same anxiety, and will eat from sun rise, till seven o’clock in the evening, without getting more than haff phull.

They will eat more, and hold less, than enny bug we kno ov.

The fly haz a remarkable impoverished memory, yu may drive him out ov yure ear; and he will land on yure forhed, hit him aginly, and he enters yure noze, the oftner yu git rid ov him in one spot, the more he gets onto another; the only way tew inculcate him with yure meaning, iz tew smash him up fine.

Naturalists dont tell us all about the soshull habits ov the fly, but i beleave they hav temprate habits, and altho they hang around grocerys a good deal, I never saw a fly the wuss for liquor, but i hav often seen liquor the wuss for flies.

They hav a big appetight for gitting into things, they are the fust at the dinner table, and alwus take soup, and dont leave untill the cloth iz removed.

Flys see a grate deal ov good sosiety, they are admitted into all circles, and if they remember one haff that they see and hear, what a world ov phunny sekrets they could unfold; but flys are perfekly honarable, and never betray a konfidence.

What would sum lovers giv, if they could only git a fly tew blab, but a fly iz a perfek gentleman, he eats oph from your plate, enjoys yure conversashun, sees sights, and haz more phun, and privilege, than a prime minister, or a dressing maid, but when yu cum tew pump him, he iz az dry in the mouth, az a salt codfish.

Thare iz sumthing a fly will blow, but he wont blow a sekret.

Flys i think, must be born whole, for i never saw a haff born fly, they are all ov a size when yu fust see them, like a paper ov pins, and never git enny smaller.

I dont kno ov a more happy, whole souled, honest critter, among the bug dispensation, than a hansum, square bilt fly, taking a free ride in central park, with the Mayor and hiz wife, or a free lunch at Delmonico’s, with the minister from England, and then finishing up the bizzness ov the day, by sleeping upside down, on the ceiling ov my ladys bed chamber.

But thare iz plenty ov pholks who kant see enny phun, or religion in a fly, whoze whole aim iz tew set molasses traps for them, tew chase them out ov the house with a sled stake, and then clear across a ploughed lot onto the next farm, tew git up nights in their stocking feet, tew worry them, with the tongs, tew drive them tew the brink ov despair, and finally ruin them, with deth.

I thank the Lord i ain’t one ov thoze, i don’t luv a fly enuff, tew leave mi vittles, and fall down flatt on mi stummuk, and worship them, but a fly may cum and sit on mi noze, all day, and chaw hiz cud in silence, if he will only sit still.

Flys tickle me, but they don’t make me sware, it takes a bedd bug, at the hollow ov night, a mean, loafing bed bugg, who steals out ov a krack in the wall, az silently az the swet on a dog’s noze, and then creeps az soft az a shadder, on tew mi tenderest spot, and begins tew bore for my ile, it takes one ov theze foul fiends ov blood, and midnite, tew make me sware, a word ov two sillables.

A fly, the dear, little, social innocent, kant make me sware, not even an abreviated dam.

I dispize enny men who sware, it iz not only wicked, but always smells ov whiskey.

This essa, on the little fly, who visit us, in the spring ov the year, just az they am, will not interest the exceeding literary, or thoze who think they hav discovered poetry in their sile, it takes the essa on the life, and deth, ov an orphan rosebud, or the golden sheen ov a sassy moonbeam, dancing in a budoir tew the dreams ov a restive beauty, it takes sumthing ov this breed, tew fetch them.

THE CROW

Next to the monkey, the crow haz the most deviltry to spare. They are born verry wild, but kan be tamed az eazy az the goat kan, but a tame crow iz aktually wuss than a sore thumb.

If thare iz enny thing about the house that they kant git into, it iz bekause the thing ain’t big enuff. I had rather watch a distrikt skool than one tame crow. Crows live on what they kan steal, and they will steal enny thing that aint tied down.

They are fond ov meat vittles, and are the first tew hold an inquest over a departed horse, or a still sheep. They are a fine bird tew hunt, but a hard one tew kill; they kan see you 2 miles first, and will smell a gun right through the side ov a mountain.

They are not songstirs, altho they hav a good voice to cultivate, but what they do sing, they seem to understand thoroughly; long praktiss has made them perfekt.

The crow iz a tuff bird, and kan stand the heat like a blacksmith, and the cold like a stun wall.

They bild their nest among a tree, and lay twice, and both eggs would hatch out if they was laid in a snow bank, – thare aint no such thing as stopping a young crow.

Crows are very lengthy; i beleave they live always i never knu one to die a natral deth, and don’t believe they kno how.

They are alwus thin in flesh, and are like an injun rubber shew, poor inside and out.

They are not considered fine eating, altho i hav read sumwhare ov biled crow, but still i never heard ov the same man hankering for sum biled crow 2 times.

This essa on the crow is copied from natur, and if it is true i aint tew blame for it; natur made the crow, i didn’t; if i had i would hav made her more honest and not quite so tuff.

THE BUMBLE BEE

The Bumble Bee is one ov natur’s sekrets.

They probably hav a destiny to fill, and are probably necessary, if a fellow only knew how.

They liv apart from the rest ov mankind, in little circles numbering about 75 or 80 souls.

They are born about haying time, and are different from enny bug i know ov; they are the biggest when they are fust born. They resemble sum men in this respekt.

Their principle bizziness iz making poor honey, but they don’t make enny to sell.

Boys sumtimes rob them out ov a whole summer’s work; but thare is one thing about a bumble bee that boys alwus watch dreadful cluss, and that iz their helm.

I had rather not hav awl the bumble bee honey that is between here and the city ov Jerusalem, than tew hav a bumble bee hit me with his helm when he cums round suddin.

THE ROBBING

The robin haz a red brest.