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The Complete Works of Artemus Ward — Part 5: The London Punch Letters by Artemus Ward
page 14 of 50 (28%)

"Git out! You never was a infank yourself, I spose! Oh no! You
was too good to be a infank, you was! You slid into the world
all ready grow'd, didn't you? Git out!"

"No, Madam," I replied, "I too was once a infant! I was a luvly
child. People used to come in large and enthoosiastic crowds
from all parts of the country to see me, I was such a sweet and
intel'gent infant. The excitement was so intens, in fack, that a
extra hotel was startid in the town to accomodate the peple who
thronged to my cradle." Havin finished these troothful
statemints, I smilt sweetly on the worthy female. She said:

"Drat you, what do you come a-chaffin me for?" and the estymible
woman was really gettin furis, when I mollyfied her by praisin
her child, and by axin pardin for all I'd said.

"This little gal," I observed, "this surprisingly lively gal
when--" the mother said,

"It's t'other sect is he, Sir: it's a boy."

"Wall," I said, "then this little boy, whose eye is like a eagle
a-soaring proudly in the azure sky, will some day be a man, if he
don't choke hisself to death in childhood's sunny hours with a
smelt or a bloater, or some other drefful calamity. How surblime
the tho't, my dear Madam, that this infant as you fondle on your
knee on this night, may grow up into a free and independent
citizen, whose vote will be worth from ten to fifteen pounds,
accordin as suffrage may range at that joyous perid!"
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