<h2> <SPAN name="newark" id="newark"></SPAN>HOW THE AUTHOR WAS SOLD IN NEWARK </h2>
<p><br/></p>
<h3> [written about 1869] </h3>
<p><br/></p>
<div class="fig"> <ANTIMG alt="p096.jpg (103K)" src="images/p096.jpg" width-obs="100%" /><br/></div>
<p><br/></p>
<p>It is seldom pleasant to tell on oneself, but some times it is a sort of
relief to a man to make a confession. I wish to unburden my mind now, and
yet I almost believe that I am moved to do it more because I long to bring
censure upon another man than because I desire to pour balm upon my
wounded heart. (I don't know what balm is, but I believe it is the correct
expression to use in this connection—never having seen any balm.)
You may remember that I lectured in Newark lately for the young gentlemen
of the——-Society? I did at any rate. During the afternoon of
that day I was talking with one of the young gentlemen just referred to,
and he said he had an uncle who, from some cause or other, seemed to have
grown permanently bereft of all emotion. And with tears in his eyes, this
young man said, "Oh, if I could only see him laugh once more! Oh, if I
could only see him weep!" I was touched. I could never withstand distress.</p>
<p>I said: "Bring him to my lecture. I'll start him for you."</p>
<p>"Oh, if you could but do it! If you could but do it, all our family would
bless you for evermore—for he is so very dear to us. Oh, my
benefactor, can you make him laugh? can you bring soothing tears to those
parched orbs?"</p>
<p>I was profoundly moved. I said: "My son, bring the old party round. I have
got some jokes in that lecture that will make him laugh if there is any
laugh in him; and if they miss fire, I have got some others that will make
him cry or kill him, one or the other." Then the young man blessed me, and
wept on my neck, and went after his uncle. He placed him in full view, in
the second row of benches, that night, and I began on him. I tried him
with mild jokes, then with severe ones; I dosed him with bad jokes and
riddled him with good ones; I fired old stale jokes into him, and peppered
him fore and aft with red-hot new ones; I warmed up to my work, and
assaulted him on the right and left, in front and behind; I fumed and
sweated and charged and ranted till I was hoarse and sick and frantic and
furious; but I never moved him once—I never started a smile or a
tear! Never a ghost of a smile, and never a suspicion of moisture! I was
astounded. I closed the lecture at last with one despairing shriek—with
one wild burst of humor, and hurled a joke of supernatural atrocity full
at him!</p>
<p>Then I sat down bewildered and exhausted.</p>
<p>The president of the society came up and bathed my head with cold water,
and said: "What made you carry on so toward the last?"</p>
<p>I said: "I was trying to make that confounded old fool laugh, in the
second row."</p>
<p>And he said: "Well, you were wasting your time, because he is deaf and
dumb, and as blind as a badger!"</p>
<p>Now, was that any way for that old man's nephew to impose on a stranger
and orphan like me? I ask you as a man and brother, if that was any way
for him to do?</p>
<p><br/></p>
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />
1 of 2
2 of 2
Previous
Next
Update Required
To play the media you will need to either update your browser to a recent version or update your Flash plugin.