Rensselaer Republican, Volume 13, Number 36, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 26 May 1881 — Fresh Anecdotes of Artemus Ward. From the Portland Press [ARTICLE]

Fresh Anecdotes of Artemus Ward. From the Portland Press

I do not remember to have ever seen any notice of Artomus’ happy use of pantomine in his humorous moods among his friends and aasociates.There was an unapproachable eloquence sometimes in it. He had a way of making “quotation marks” in the air with his left and right forefinfs, on occasion that was Irresistinrony. Once he was engaged to an evening in the lecture course of a popular literary institution of s New England city. On making some inquiries beforehand In regard to the capacity of the hall, the probable make-up of his audience, etc., he wm

informed that the platform had seats for upward of a hundred auditors. “Oh, yes, I understand,” he said: (pantomine signifying“llrst families,” “vety respectable,” etc.) “Good! Be sure and have ’em here; they’ll (quo-tation-mark pantomine) lend dignity to the occasion (pantomine); and if they lose some they won’t miss It.” During the lecture an individual who occupied a seat on one of the front benches seemed determined to resist the speaker’s effects to make him laugh. Arteinus soon discovered both the listener and his intention, aud concentrated all his powers on him. For a long time it seemed as if the man had the best of it, but by and by one of Browne’s queer conceits took effect. The obstinate fellow gave way and laugh and kicked like a delighted school-boy. Artemus celebrated his victory by coolly -announcing to his audience: “Ladies and gentlemen, this will terminate the first act, and we will drop the curtain for a few moments. While the scenery is being arranged for the next act the lecturer will trnie occasion to 'go out to see a man,’ ” and with perfect sang froid he left the platform lor tbe anteroom, where he quietly refreshed himself with—weak tea and a cracker and gleefully told the story of the concert. Half a dozen of his associates were sitting one day in his room at the village hotel, where he boarded, when an old woman drove up to tbe store opposite with a pair of donkeys—a Jack and Jenny—hitched to a little wagon. Jack was the noisest tgute in the country. He had a voioe worse than the handle of the town pump on a frosty morning and was proud of it. In a minute his tail rose to a horizon-

tal, his nose was thrust forward, his lips parted, and the beast blew his infernal blast. A second and a third time it was repeated. Artemus quietly thought “that thing might be nxed” and disappeared from the room. He went over and appeared to make a careful inspection or the forewhcels of the wagon, the harness and hitch-up, and came back saying the donkey was all right; the brute must have made a mistake about something. Presently there were indications of a movement on Jack’s part: the neck was extended, the lips curled, the tail rose—to the pivotal point and no farther. The trumpet didn’t sound. Jack thought there was a mistake somewhat—hesitated—reflected—and tried again. The front part, some of It, was all right; but the equilibrium could not be reached. After a time another attempt was made and failed. Jack turned his head round to asoertian the cause of the failure, but couldn’t see any. The fifth vain attempt to bray was followed by a spiteful kick at Jenny, but it didn’t cure the matter. At last he gave it up and stood $t that store door the most neglected-looking, discontented donkey in existence. Meantime Artemus enjoyed the fun and discharged a rattling fusilade of pungent humor that kept the party in a roar and made the whole affair one of the most ludicrous that I ever experienced. Artemus had attached a heavy stone to the donkey’s tail, leaving just play enough to the cord to allow the beast to get his tall nearly up to “concert.pitch.”