The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1885-10-25
JOSH BILLINGS, TIE sIAN.
How the Quaint Humorist Appeared to Thoss
who Knew Him Best.
No~ VT. ALL .-A E-O-asp


who Knew Him Best.
New York Mail and Express.
''Thats Josh Billings's chair" said Mr..
Ormond 6. Smith this morri~~ "o'ntino 70 .
fat rocker, upholstered in green leather, in tho
business Office of the New York Weekly. He
wrote for us for twenty years, at 800 a week.
In all that time he never missed a number, and
never gave us over twelve paragraphs a week.
He was garrulous as an old man. and loved to
tell stories. Socially, perhaps. his strongest
point was his piety. be was intensely orthodox,
and hit unbelievers hard. At a country hotel in
Illinois, one day. a farmer told him he ttha
farmer) couldn't believe anything he didn't
understand. You've an orchard on your place.
said Josh. Yes, said the farmer. Did it ever
happen that you've found a sweet ample on one
tree and a sour one on the one next to itf
Often replied the farmer. You believe that
said Josh, but I'll bet a brown-stone front to q
glass O. cider you can't explain it,
He greatly admired Mr.. Beecher, who, he
said. had more genius than any other man in the
country. But when Beecher began to preach on
evolution. Josh wrote him from Colorado, beg
ging him to leave the Creator alone and give Him
credit for being something better than a second
rate machine who tried to make q man and only
hit off a monkey.
"His philosophy of humor was that it must be
based on truth. Truths he divided into natural
and physical. Humor was only a play on varia-
tions of these. Hsop was the only writer of
original fables, for he had exhausted all the
truths. He had no respect for a mar who would
laugh at irrational nonsense. His phonetic or
biography was an accident. For five years he
had written without attracting attention. One
day he picked up a copy or Artemus Ward. The
crooked spelling attracted him. He wrote an es-
say on the mule in that queer photography he has
made his own. and it made a bighit. After that
he never abandoned it. For books he had no
love. When he was an auctioneer he got the
subject of his jokes out of his audience. and
when he turned humorist he relied on nature
human and material. He used to say he found
more in a three acre lot than in three acres Of
the best books ever written.
He was careless in his dress, and / don't
think he ever wore d necEtie in his life. But he
was a great stickler for clean linen, and was
particularly hard on collars. He thought moth
ing of five or six in a day. Once his wife pro-
tested against his extravaganza. My dear said
he, the man who can wear a collar for a whole
week and keep it clean amt good for anything
else He spoke with a strong Yankee twang
and accent, and his funny way of looking at
things cropped out on all occasions. Walking
at Bergen Point with a friend. one day, the mos
q~uitoes annoyed them. Finally, under great
provocation, his friend became profane. Don't
swear, Tommy, said Josh graycly, you ~oughtnt
object to the company of mosquitoes-they have
the best blood of the country in their veins
He never threw such things away, though. He
had a keen sense of his own humor, and always
had a notebook ready to iot his sayings and
ideas down.
"He had a great hatred of shams, humbugs
GiA Sthb OASFSA 2O60No Wa Ao
study, and he was greatly delighted once at be-
ing taken for a fresh countrynan by a bunko
steerer. His rough, careless dress, collarless
shirt and thick boots. together with a queerly-
| benevolent and confiding expression seemed to
stamp the old gentleman as a promising subject.
One day, strolling down Broadway, a spruce
young chap rushed up to him and shook him
warmly by the hand.
Morton, my dear fellow said he, how are
your
81 guess you're wrong, young man. replied
| Josh mildly.
"'Why, amt you Timothy Morton, of SYRIA
cuse?'
"'No. sir. I'm James w. Bailey, of Roches-
ter
1.-The young man arologized aud went off. and
two blocks further on his pal came up to Josh,
sprinkling smiles.
"'Why, Mr.. Baily, how do you do9 How's
everybody at Rochester
You're wrong, young man, said Josh, with a
chilklike grin. But I'm Timothy Morton, Of
Syracuse
I'VE shall miss him." continued Mr.. Smith.
sadly. There never was a better hearted. more
sympathetic or more honest man. All his on
gagements were kept punctiliously. A faint
cloud hung over his later years, by reason of the
~fainting fits with which he was afflicted. His
trouble was of a gastric nature. and the pneumo-
gastric nerve, acting on the brain, produced UNI
consciousness, with symptoms resembling those
of a~poplexy. But it was of gastric complaint
and not apoplexy that he died. He seemed to
feel he would die in this way, but was cheerful
about it. I've had my day. he would say, and
a good time while it lasted"