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Sabbath, n. A
weekly festival having its origin in the fact that God made the world in
six days and was arrested on the seventh. Among the Jews observance of the
day was enforced by a Commandment of which this is the Christian version:
"Remember the seventh day to make thy neighbor keep it wholly." To the
Creator it seemed fit and expedient that the Sabbath should be the last
day of the week, but the Early Fathers of the Church held other views. So
great is the sanctity of the day that even where the Lord holds a doubtful
and precarious jurisdiction over those who go down to (and down into) the
sea it is reverently recognized, as is manifest in the following
deep-water version of the Fourth Commandment:
Six days shalt thou labor and do all thou art able,
And on the seventh holystone the deck and scrape the cable.
Decks are no longer
holystoned, but the cable still supplies the captain with opportunity to
attest a pious respect for the divine ordinance.
Sacerdotalist, n. One
who holds the belief that a clergyman is a priest. Denial of this
momentous doctrine is the hardest challenge that is now flung into the
teeth of the Episcopalian church by the Neo-Dictionarians.
Sacrament, n. A
solemn religious ceremony to which several degrees of authority and
significance are attached. Rome has seven sacraments, but the Protestant
churches, being less prosperous, feel that they can afford only two, and
these of inferior sanctity. Some of the smaller sects have no sacraments
at all— for which mean economy they will indubitable be damned.
Sacred, adj. Dedicated
to some religious purpose; having a divine character; inspiring solemn
thoughts or emotions; as, the Dalai Lama of Thibet; the Moogum of M'bwango;
the temple of Apes in Ceylon; the Cow in India; the Crocodile, the Cat and
the Onion of ancient Egypt; the Mufti of Moosh; the hair of the dog that
bit Noah, etc.
All things are either sacred or profane.
The former to ecclesiasts bring gain;
The latter to the devil appertain.
Dumbo Omohundro.
Sandlotter, n. A
vertebrate mammal holding the political views of Denis Kearney, a
notorious demagogue of San Francisco, whose audiences gathered in the open
spaces (sandlots) of the town. True to the traditions of his species, this
leader of the proletariat was finally bought off by his law-and-order
enemies, living prosperously silent and dying impenitently rich. But
before his treason he imposed upon California a constitution that was a
confection of sin in a diction of solecisms. The similarity between the
words "sandlotter" and "sansculotte" is problematically significant, but
indubitably suggestive.
Safety-Clutch, n. A
mechanical device acting automatically to prevent the fall of an elevator,
or cage, in case of an accident to the hoisting apparatus.
Once I seen a human ruin
In an elevator-well,
And his members was bestrewin'
All the place where he had fell.
And I says, apostrophisin'
That uncommon woful wreck:
"Your position's so surprisin'
That I tremble for your neck!"
Then that ruin, smilin' sadly
And impressive, up and spoke:
"Well, I wouldn't tremble badly,
For it's been a fortnight broke."
Then, for further comprehension
Of his attitude, he begs
I will focus my attention
On his various arms and legs—
How they all are contumacious;
Where they each, respective, lie;
How one trotter proves ungracious,
T'other one an alibi.
These particulars is mentioned
For to show his dismal state,
Which I wasn't first intentioned
To specifical relate.
None is worser to be dreaded
That I ever have heard tell
Than the gent's who there was spreaded
In that elevator-well.
Now this tale is allegoric—
It is figurative all,
For the well is metaphoric
And the feller didn't fall.
I opine it isn't moral
For a writer-man to cheat,
And despise to wear a laurel
As was gotten by deceit.
For 'tis Politics intended
By the elevator, mind,
It will boost a person splendid
If his talent is the kind.
Col. Bryan had the talent
(For the busted man is him)
And it shot him up right gallant
Till his head begun to swim.
Then the rope it broke above him
And he painful come to earth
Where there's nobody to love him
For his detrimented worth.
Though he's livin' none would know him,
Or at leastwise not as such.
Moral of this woful poem:
Frequent oil your safety-clutch.
Porfer Poog.
Saint, n. A
dead sinner revised and edited.
The Duchess of
Orleans relates that the irreverent old calumniator, Marshal Villeroi, who
in his youth had known St. Francis de Sales, said, on hearing him called
saint: "I am delighted to hear that Monsieur de Sales is a saint. He was
fond of saying indelicate things, and used to cheat at cards. In other
respects he was a perfect gentleman, though a fool."
Salacity, n. A
certain literary quality frequently observed in popular novels, especially
in those written by women and young girls, who give it another name and
think that in introducing it they are occupying a neglected field of
letters and reaping an overlooked harvest. If they have the misfortune to
live long enough they are tormented with a desire to burn their sheaves.
Salamander, n. Originally
a reptile inhabiting fire; later, an anthropomorphous immortal, but still
a pyrophile. Salamanders are now believed to be extinct, the last one of
which we have an account having been seen in Carcassonne by the Abbe
Belloc, who exorcised it with a bucket of holy water.
Sarcophagus, n. Among
the Greeks a coffin which being made of a certain kind of carnivorous
stone, had the peculiar property of devouring the body placed in it. The
sarcophagus known to modern obsequiographers is commonly a product of the
carpenter's art.
Satan, n. One
of the Creator's lamentable mistakes, repented in sashcloth and axes.
Being instated as an archangel, Satan made himself multifariously
objectionable and was finally expelled from Heaven. Halfway in his descent
he paused, bent his head in thought a moment and at last went back. "There
is one favor that I should like to ask," said he.
"Name it."
"Man, I understand,
is about to be created. He will need laws."
"What, wretch! you
his appointed adversary, charged from the dawn of eternity with hatred of
his soul— you ask for the right to make his laws?"
"Pardon; what I have
to ask is that he be permitted to make them himself."
It was so ordered.
Satiety, n. The
feeling that one has for the plate after he has eaten its contents, madam.
Satire, n. An
obsolete kind of literary composition in which the vices and follies of
the author's enemies were expounded with imperfect tenderness. In this
country satire never had more than a sickly and uncertain existence, for
the soul of it is wit, wherein we are dolefully deficient, the humor that
we mistake for it, like all humor, being tolerant and sympathetic.
Moreover, although Americans are "endowed by their Creator" with abundant
vice and folly, it is not generally known that these are reprehensible
qualities, wherefore the satirist is popularly regarded as a sour-spirited
knave, and his ever victim's outcry for codefendants evokes a national
assent.
Hail Satire! be thy praises ever sung
In the dead language of a mummy's tongue,
For thou thyself art dead, and damned as well—
Thy spirit (usefully employed) in Hell.
Had it been such as consecrates the Bible
Thou hadst not perished by the law of libel.
Barney Stims.
Satyr, n. One
of the few characters of the Grecian mythology accorded recognition in the
Hebrew. (Leviticus, xvii, 7.) The satyr was at first a member of the
dissolute community acknowledging a loose allegiance with Dionysius, but
underwent many transformations and improvements. Not infrequently he is
confounded with the faun, a later and decenter creation of the Romans, who
was less like a man and more like a goat.
Sauce, n. The
one infallible sign of civilization and enlightenment. A people with no
sauces has one thousand vices; a people with one sauce has only nine
hundred and ninety-nine. For every sauce invented and accepted a vice is
renounced and forgiven.
Saw, n. A
trite popular saying, or proverb. (Figurative and colloquial.) So called
because it makes its way into a wooden head. Following are examples of old
saws fitted with new teeth.
A penny saved is a penny to squander.
A man is known by the company that he organizes.
A bad workman quarrels with the man who calls him that.
A bird in the hand is worth what it will bring.
Better late than before anybody has invited you.
Example is better than following it.
Half a loaf is better than a whole one if there is much
else.
Think twice before you speak to a friend in need.
What is worth doing is worth the trouble of asking somebody
to do it.
Least said is soonest disavowed.
He laughs best who laughs least.
Speak of the Devil and he will hear about it.
Of two evils choose to be the least.
Strike while your employer has a big contract.
Where there's a will there's a won't.
Scarabaeus, n. The
sacred beetle of the ancient Egyptians, allied to our familiar
"tumble-bug." It was supposed to symbolize immortality, the fact that God
knew why giving it its peculiar sanctity. Its habit of incubating its eggs
in a ball of ordure may also have commended it to the favor of the
priesthood, and may some day assure it an equal reverence among ourselves.
True, the American beetle is an inferior beetle, but the American priest
is an inferior priest.
Scarabee, n. The
same as scarabaeus.
He fell by his own hand
Beneath the great oak tree.
He'd traveled in a foreign land.
He tried to make her understand
The dance that's called the Saraband,
But he called it Scarabee.
He had called it so through an afternoon,
And she, the light of his harem if so might be,
Had smiled and said naught. O the body was fair to see,
All frosted there in the shine o' the moon—
Dead for a Scarabee
And a recollection that came too late.
O Fate!
They buried him where he lay,
He sleeps awaiting the Day,
In state,
And two Possible Puns, moon-eyed and wan,
Gloom over the grave and then move on.
Dead for a Scarabee!
Fernando Tapple.
Scarification, n. A
form of penance practised by the mediaeval pious. The rite was performed,
sometimes with a knife, sometimes with a hot iron, but always, says
Arsenius Asceticus, acceptably if the penitent spared himself no pain nor
harmless disfigurement. Scarification, with other crude penances, has now
been superseded by benefaction. The founding of a library or endowment of
a university is said to yield to the penitent a sharper and more lasting
pain than is conferred by the knife or iron, and is therefore a surer
means of grace. There are, however, two grave objections to it as a
penitential method: the good that it does and the taint of justice.
Scepter, n. A
king's staff of office, the sign and symbol of his authority. It was
originally a mace with which the sovereign admonished his jester and
vetoed ministerial measures by breaking the bones of their proponents.
Scimetar, n. A
curved sword of exceeding keenness, in the conduct of which certain
Orientals attain a surprising proficiency, as the incident here related
will serve to show. The account is translated from the Japanese by Shusi
Itama, a famous writer of the thirteenth century.
When the great
Gichi-Kuktai was Mikado he condemned to decapitation Jijiji Ri, a high
officer of the Court. Soon after the hour appointed for performance of the
rite what was his Majesty's surprise to see calmly approaching the throne
the man who should have been at that time ten minutes dead!
"Seventeen hundred
impossible dragons!" shouted the enraged monarch. "Did I not sentence you
to stand in the market-place and have your head struck off by the public
executioner at three o'clock? And is it not now 3:10?"
"Son of a thousand
illustrious deities," answered the condemned minister, "all that you say
is so true that the truth is a lie in comparison. But your heavenly
Majesty's sunny and vitalizing wishes have been pestilently disregarded.
With joy I ran and placed my unworthy body in the market-place. The
executioner appeared with his bare scimetar, ostentatiously whirled it in
air, and then, tapping me lightly upon the neck, strode away, pelted by
the populace, with whom I was ever a favorite. I am come to pray for
justice upon his own dishonorable and treasonous head."
"To what regiment of
executioners does the black-boweled caitiff belong?" asked the Mikado.
"To the gallant
Ninety-eight Hundred and Thirty-seventh— I know the man. His name is
Sakko-Samshi."
"Let him be brought
before me," said the Mikado to an attendant, and a half-hour later the
culprit stood in the Presence.
"Thou bastard son of a
three-legged hunchback without thumbs!" roared the sovereign— "why didst
thou but lightly tap the neck that it should have been thy pleasure to
sever?"
"Lord of Cranes of
Cherry Blooms," replied the executioner, unmoved, "command him to blow his
nose with his fingers."
Being commanded,
Jijiji Ri laid hold of his nose and trumpeted like an elephant, all
expecting to see the severed head flung violently from him. Nothing
occurred: the performance prospered peacefully to the close, without
incident.
All eyes were now
turned on the executioner, who had grown as white as the snows on the
summit of Fujiama. His legs trembled and his breath came in gasps of
terror.
"Several kinds of
spike-tailed brass lions!" he cried; "I am a ruined and disgraced
swordsman! I struck the villain feebly because in flourishing the scimetar
I had accidentally passed it through my own neck! Father of the Moon, I
resign my office."
So saying, he gasped
his top-knot, lifted off his head, and advancing to the throne laid it
humbly at the Mikado's feet.
Scrap-Book, n. A
book that is commonly edited by a fool. Many persons of some small
distinction compile scrap-books containing whatever they happen to read
about themselves or employ others to collect. One of these egotists was
addressed in the lines following, by Agamemnon Melancthon Peters:
Dear Frank, that scrap-book where you boast
You keep a record true
Of every kind of peppered roast
That's made of you;
Wherein you paste the printed gibes
That revel round your name,
Thinking the laughter of the scribes
Attests your fame;
Where all the pictures you arrange
That comic pencils trace—
Your funny figure and your strange
Semitic face—
Pray lend it me. Wit I have not,
Nor art, but there I'll list
The daily drubbings you'd have got
Had God a fist.
Scribbler, n. A
professional writer whose views are antagonistic to one's own.
Scriptures, n. The
sacred books of our holy religion, as distinguished from the false and
profane writings on which all other faiths are based.
Seal, n. A
mark impressed upon certain kinds of documents to attest their
authenticity and authority. Sometimes it is stamped upon wax, and attached
to the paper, sometimes into the paper itself. Sealing, in this sense, is
a survival of an ancient custom of inscribing important papers with
cabalistic words or signs to give them a magical efficacy independent of
the authority that they represent. In the British museum are preserved
many ancient papers, mostly of a sacerdotal character, validated by
necromantic pentagrams and other devices, frequently initial letters of
words to conjure with; and in many instances these are attached in the
same way that seals are appended now. As nearly every reasonless and
apparently meaningless custom, rite or observance of modern times had
origin in some remote utility, it is pleasing to note an example of
ancient nonsense evolving in the process of ages into something really
useful. Our word "sincere" is derived from sine cero, without wax,
but the learned are not in agreement as to whether this refers to the
absence of the cabalistic signs, or to that of the wax with which letters
were formerly closed from public scrutiny. Either view of the matter will
serve one in immediate need of an hypothesis. The initials L.S., commonly
appended to signatures of legal documents, mean locum sigillis, the
place of the seal, although the seal is no longer used— an admirable
example of conservatism distinguishing Man from the beasts that perish.
The words locum sigillis are humbly suggested as a suitable motto
for the Pribyloff Islands whenever they shall take their place as a
sovereign State of the American Union.
Seine, n. A
kind of net for effecting an involuntary change of environment. For fish
it is made strong and coarse, but women are more easily taken with a
singularly delicate fabric weighted with small, cut stones.
The devil casting a seine of lace,
(With precious stones 'twas weighted)
Drew it into the landing place
And its contents calculated.
All souls of women were in that sack—
A draft miraculous, precious!
But ere he could throw it across his back
They'd all escaped through the meshes.
Baruch de Loppis.
Self-esteem, n. An
erroneous appraisement.
Self-evident, adj. Evident
to one's self and to nobody else.
Selfish, adj. Devoid
of consideration for the selfishness of others.
Senate, n. A
body of elderly gentlemen charged with high duties and misdemeanors.
Serial, n. A
literary work, usually a story that is not true, creeping through several
issues of a newspaper or magazine. Frequently appended to each installment
is a "synopsis of preceding chapters" for those who have not read them,
but a direr need is a synopsis of succeeding chapters for those who do not
intend to read them. A synopsis of the entire work would be still
better.
The late James F.
Bowman was writing a serial tale for a weekly paper in collaboration with
a genius whose name has not come down to us. They wrote, not jointly but
alternately, Bowman supplying the installment for one week, his friend for
the next, and so on, world without end, they hoped. Unfortunately they
quarreled, and one Monday morning when Bowman read the paper to prepare
himself for his task, he found his work cut out for him in a way to
surprise and pain him. His collaborator had embarked every character of
the narrative on a ship and sunk them all in the deepest part of the
Atlantic.
Severalty, n. Separateness,
as, lands in severalty, i.e., lands held individually, not in joint
ownership. Certain tribes of Indians are believed now to be sufficiently
civilized to have in severalty the lands that they have hitherto held as
tribal organizations, and could not sell to the Whites for waxen beads and
potato whiskey.
Lo! the poor Indian whose unsuited mind
Saw death before, hell and the grave behind;
Whom thrifty settler ne'er besought to stay—
His small belongings their appointed prey;
Whom Dispossession, with alluring wile,
Persuaded elsewhere every little while!
His fire unquenched and his undying worm
By "land in severalty" (charming term!)
Are cooled and killed, respectively, at last,
And he to his new holding anchored fast!
Sheriff, n. In
America the chief executive office of a county, whose most characteristic
duties, in some of the Western and Southern States, are the catching and
hanging of rogues.
John Elmer Pettibone Cajee
(I write of him with little glee)
Was just as bad as he could be.
'Twas frequently remarked: "I swon!
The sun has never looked upon
So bad a man as Neighbor John."
A sinner through and through, he had
This added fault: it made him mad
To know another man was bad.
In such a case he thought it right
To rise at any hour of night
And quench that wicked person's light.
Despite the town's entreaties, he
Would hale him to the nearest tree
And leave him swinging wide and free.
Or sometimes, if the humor came,
A luckless wight's reluctant frame
Was given to the cheerful flame.
While it was turning nice and brown,
All unconcerned John met the frown
Of that austere and righteous town.
"How sad," his neighbors said, "that he
So scornful of the law should be—
An anar c, h, i, s, t."
(That is the way that they preferred
To utter the abhorrent word,
So strong the aversion that it stirred.)
"Resolved," they said, continuing,
"That Badman John must cease this thing
Of having his unlawful fling.
"Now, by these sacred relics"— here
Each man had out a souvenir
Got at a lynching yesteryear—
"By these we swear he shall forsake
His ways, nor cause our hearts to ache
By sins of rope and torch and stake.
"We'll tie his red right hand until
He'll have small freedom to fulfil
The mandates of his lawless will."
So, in convention then and there,
They named him Sheriff. The affair
Was opened, it is said, with prayer.
J. Milton Sloluck.
Siren, n. One
of several musical prodigies famous for a vain attempt to dissuade
Odysseus from a life on the ocean wave. Figuratively, any lady of splendid
promise, dissembled purpose and disappointing performance.
Slang, n. The
grunt of the human hog (Pignoramus intolerabilis) with an audible
memory. The speech of one who utters with his tongue what he thinks with
his ear, and feels the pride of a creator in accomplishing the feat of a
parrot. A means (under Providence) of setting up as a wit without a
capital of sense.
Smithareen, n. A
fragment, a decomponent part, a remain. The word is used variously, but in
the following verse on a noted female reformer who opposed bicycle-riding
by women because it "led them to the devil" it is seen at its best:
The wheels go round without a sound—
The maidens hold high revel;
In sinful mood, insanely gay,
True spinsters spin adown the way
From duty to the devil!
They laugh, they sing, and— ting-a-ling!
Their bells go all the morning;
Their lanterns bright bestar the night
Pedestrians a-warning.
With lifted hands Miss Charlotte stands,
Good-Lording and O-mying,
Her rheumatism forgotten quite,
Her fat with anger frying.
She blocks the path that leads to wrath,
Jack Satan's power defying.
The wheels go round without a sound
The lights burn red and blue and green.
What's this that's found upon the ground?
Poor Charlotte Smith's a smithareen!
John William Yope.
Sophistry, n. The
controversial method of an opponent, distinguished from one's own by
superior insincerity and fooling. This method is that of the later
Sophists, a Grecian sect of philosophers who began by teaching wisdom,
prudence, science, art and, in brief, whatever men ought to know, but lost
themselves in a maze of quibbles and a fog of words.
His bad opponent's "facts" he sweeps away,
And drags his sophistry to light of day;
Then swears they're pushed to madness who resort
To falsehood of so desperate a sort.
Not so; like sods upon a dead man's breast,
He lies most lightly who the least is pressed.
Polydore Smith.
Sorcery, n. The
ancient prototype and forerunner of political influence. It was, however,
deemed less respectable and sometimes was punished by torture and death.
Augustine Nicholas relates that a poor peasant who had been accused of
sorcery was put to the torture to compel a confession. After enduring a
few gentle agonies the suffering simpleton admitted his guilt, but naively
asked his tormentors if it were not possible to be a sorcerer without
knowing it.
Soul, n. A
spiritual entity concerning which there hath been brave disputation. Plato
held that those souls which in a previous state of existence (antedating
Athens) had obtained the clearest glimpses of eternal truth entered into
the bodies of persons who became philosophers. Plato himself was a
philosopher. The souls that had least contemplated divine truth animated
the bodies of usurpers and despots. Dionysius I, who had threatened to
decapitate the broad-browed philosopher, was a usurper and a despot.
Plato, doubtless, was not the first to construct a system of philosophy
that could be quoted against his enemies; certainly he was not the last.
"Concerning the
nature of the soul," saith the renowned author of Diversiones
Sanctorum, "there hath been hardly more argument than that of its
place in the body. Mine own belief is that the soul hath her seat in the
abdomen— in which faith we may discern and interpret a truth hitherto
unintelligible, namely that the glutton is of all men most devout. He is
said in the Scripture to 'make a god of his belly'— why, then, should he
not be pious, having ever his Deity with him to freshen his faith? Who so
well as he can know the might and majesty that he shrines? Truly and
soberly, the soul and the stomach are one Divine Entity; and such was the
belief of Promasius, who nevertheless erred in denying it immortality. He
had observed that its visible and material substance failed and decayed
with the rest of the body after death, but of its immaterial essence he
knew nothing. This is what we call the Appetite, and it survives the wreck
and reek of mortality, to be rewarded or punished in another world,
according to what it hath demanded in the flesh. The Appetite whose coarse
clamoring was for the unwholesome viands of the general market and the
public refectory shall be cast into eternal famine, whilst that which
firmly through civilly insisted on ortolans, caviare, terrapin, anchovies,
pâtés de foie gras and all such Christian comestibles shall flesh
its spiritual tooth in the souls of them forever and ever, and wreak its
divine thirst upon the immortal parts of the rarest and richest wines ever
quaffed here below. Such is my religious faith, though I grieve to confess
that neither His Holiness the Pope nor His Grace the Archbishop of
Canterbury (whom I equally and profoundly revere) will assent to its
dissemination."
Spooker, n. A
writer whose imagination concerns itself with supernatural phenomena,
especially in the doings of spooks. One of the most illustrious spookers
of our time is Mr. William D. Howells, who introduces a well-credentialed
reader to as respectable and mannerly a company of spooks as one could
wish to meet. To the terror that invests the chairman of a district school
board, the Howells ghost adds something of the mystery enveloping a farmer
from another township.
Story, n. A
narrative, commonly untrue. The truth of the stories here following has,
however, not been successfully impeached.
One evening Mr.
Rudolph Block, of New York, found himself seated at dinner alongside Mr.
Percival Pollard, the distinguished critic.
"Mr. Pollard," said
he, "my book, The Biography of a Dead Cow, is published
anonymously, but you can hardly be ignorant of its authorship. Yet in
reviewing it you speak of it as the work of the Idiot of the Century. Do
you think that fair criticism?"
"I am very sorry,
sir," replied the critic, amiably, "but it did not occur to me that you
really might not wish the public to know who wrote it."
Mr. W.C. Morrow, who
used to live in San Jose, California, was addicted to writing ghost
stories which made the reader feel as if a stream of lizards, fresh from
the ice, were streaking it up his back and hiding in his hair. San Jose
was at that time believed to be haunted by the visible spirit of a noted
bandit named Vasquez, who had been hanged there. The town was not very
well lighted, and it is putting it mildly to say that San Jose was
reluctant to be out o' nights. One particularly dark night two gentlemen
were abroad in the loneliest spot within the city limits, talking loudly
to keep up their courage, when they came upon Mr. J.J. Owen, a well-known
journalist.
"Why, Owen," said
one, "what brings you here on such a night as this? You told me that this
is one of Vasquez' favorite haunts! And you are a believer. Aren't you
afraid to be out?"
"My dear fellow," the
journalist replied with a drear autumnal cadence in his speech, like the
moan of a leaf-laden wind, "I am afraid to be in. I have one of Will
Morrow's stories in my pocket and I don't dare to go where there is light
enough to read it."
Rear-Admiral Schley
and Representative Charles F. Joy were standing near the Peace Monument,
in Washington, discussing the question, Is success a failure? Mr. Joy
suddenly broke off in the middle of an eloquent sentence, exclaiming:
"Hello! I've heard that band before. Santlemann's, I think."
"I don't hear any
band," said Schley.
"Come to think, I
don't either," said Joy; "but I see General Miles coming down the avenue,
and that pageant always affects me in the same way as a brass band. One
has to scrutinize one's impressions pretty closely, or one will mistake
their origin."
While the Admiral was
digesting this hasty meal of philosophy General Miles passed in review, a
spectacle of impressive dignity. When the tail of the seeming procession
had passed and the two observers had recovered from the transient
blindness caused by its effulgence—
"He seems to be
enjoying himself," said the Admiral.
"There is nothing,"
assented Joy, thoughtfully, "that he enjoys one-half so well."
The illustrious
statesman, Champ Clark, once lived about a mile from the village of
Jebigue, in Missouri. One day he rode into town on a favorite mule, and,
hitching the beast on the sunny side of a street, in front of a saloon, he
went inside in his character of teetotaler, to apprise the barkeeper that
wine is a mocker. It was a dreadfully hot day. Pretty soon a neighbor came
in and seeing Clark, said:
"Champ, it is not
right to leave that mule out there in the sun. He'll roast, sure!— he was
smoking as I passed him."
"O, he's all right,"
said Clark, lightly; "he's an inveterate smoker."
The neighbor took a
lemonade, but shook his head and repeated that it was not right.
He was a conspirator.
There had been a fire the night before: a stable just around the corner
had burned and a number of horses had put on their immortality, among them
a young colt, which was roasted to a rich nut-brown. Some of the boys had
turned Mr. Clark's mule loose and substituted the mortal part of the colt.
Presently another man entered the saloon.
"For mercy's sake!"
he said, taking it with sugar, "do remove that mule, barkeeper: it
smells."
"Yes," interposed
Clark, "that animal has the best nose in Missouri. But if he doesn't mind,
you shouldn't."
In the course of
human events Mr. Clark went out, and there, apparently, lay the
incinerated and shrunken remains of his charger. The boys did not have any
fun out of Mr. Clark, who looked at the body and, with the non-committal
expression to which he owes so much of his political preferment, went
away. But walking home late that night he saw his mule standing silent and
solemn by the wayside in the misty moonlight. Mentioning the name of Helen
Blazes with uncommon emphasis, Mr. Clark took the back track as hard as
ever he could hook it, and passed the night in town.
General H. H.
Wotherspoon, president of the Army War College, has a pet rib-nosed
baboon, an animal of uncommon intelligence but imperfectly beautiful.
Returning to his apartment one evening, the General was surprised and
pained to find Adam (for so the creature is named, the general being a
Darwinian) sitting up for him and wearing his master's best uniform coat,
epaulettes and all.
"You confounded
remote ancestor!" thundered the great strategist, "what do you mean by
being out of bed after naps?— and with my coat on!"
Adam rose and with a
reproachful look got down on all fours in the manner of his kind and,
scuffling across the room to a table, returned with a visiting-card:
General Barry had called and, judging by an empty champagne bottle and
several cigar-stumps, had been hospitably entertained while waiting. The
general apologized to his faithful progenitor and retired. The next day he
met General Barry, who said:
"Spoon, old man, when
leaving you last evening I forgot to ask you about those excellent cigars.
Where did you get them?"
General Wotherspoon
did not deign to reply, but walked away.
"Pardon me, please,"
said Barry, moving after him; "I was joking of course. Why, I knew it was
not you before I had been in the room fifteen minutes."
Success, n. The
one unpardonable sin against one's fellows. In literature, and
particularly in poetry, the elements of success are exceedingly simple,
and are admirably set forth in the following lines by the reverend Father
Gassalasca Jape, entitled, for some mysterious reason, "John A. Joyce."
The bard who would prosper must carry a book,
Do his thinking in prose and wear
A crimson cravat, a far-away look
And a head of hexameter hair.
Be thin in your thought and your body'll be fat;
If you wear your hair long you needn't your hat.
Suffrage, n. Expression
of opinion by means of a ballot. The right of suffrage (which is held to
be both a privilege and a duty) means, as commonly interpreted, the right
to vote for the man of another man's choice, and is highly prized. Refusal
to do so has the bad name of "incivism." The incivilian, however, cannot
be properly arraigned for his crime, for there is no legitimate accuser.
If the accuser is himself guilty he has no standing in the court of
opinion; if not, he profits by the crime, for A's abstention from voting
gives greater weight to the vote of B. By female suffrage is meant the
right of a woman to vote as some man tells her to. It is based on female
responsibility, which is somewhat limited. The woman most eager to jump
out of her petticoat to assert her rights is first to jump back into it
when threatened with a switching for misusing them.
Sycophant, n. One
who approaches Greatness on his belly so that he may not be commanded to
turn and be kicked. He is sometimes an editor.
As the lean leech, its victim found, is pleased
To fix itself upon a part diseased
Till, its black hide distended with bad blood,
It drops to die of surfeit in the mud,
So the base sycophant with joy descries
His neighbor's weak spot and his mouth applies,
Gorges and prospers like the leech, although,
Unlike that reptile, he will not let go.
Gelasma, if it paid you to devote
Your talent to the service of a goat,
Showing by forceful logic that its beard
Is more than Aaron's fit to be revered;
If to the task of honoring its smell
Profit had prompted you, and love as well,
The world would benefit at last by you
And wealthy malefactors weep anew—
Your favor for a moment's space denied
And to the nobler object turned aside.
Isn't not enough that thrifty millionaires
Who loot in freight and spoliate in fares,
Or, cursed with consciences that bid them fly
To safer villainies of darker dye,
Forswearing robbery and fain, instead,
To steal (they call it "cornering") our bread
May see you groveling their boots to lick
And begging for the favor of a kick?
Still must you follow to the bitter end
Your sycophantic disposition's trend,
And in your eagerness to please the rich
Hunt hungry sinners to their final ditch?
In Morgan's praise you smite the sounding wire,
And sing hosannas to great Havemeyer!
What's Satan done that him you should eschew?
He too is reeking rich— deducting you.
Syllogism, n. A
logical formula consisting of a major and a minor assumption and an
inconsequent. (See LOGIC.)
Sylph, n. An
immaterial but visible being that inhabited the air when the air was an
element and before it was fatally polluted with factory smoke, sewer gas
and similar products of civilization. Sylphs were allied to gnomes, nymphs
and salamanders, which dwelt, respectively, in earth, water and fire, all
now insalubrious. Sylphs, like fowls of the air, were male and female, to
no purpose, apparently, for if they had progeny they must have nested in
accessible places, none of the chicks having ever been seen.
Symbol, n. Something
that is supposed to typify or stand for something else. Many symbols are
mere "survivals"— things which having no longer any utility continue to
exist because we have inherited the tendency to make them; as funereal
urns carved on memorial monuments. They were once real urns holding the
ashes of the dead. We cannot stop making them, but we can give them a name
that conceals our helplessness.
Symbolic, adj. Pertaining
to symbols and the use and interpretation of symbols.
They say 'tis conscience feels compunction;
I hold that that's the stomach's function,
For of the sinner I have noted
That when he's sinned he's somewhat bloated,
Or ill some other ghastly fashion
Within that bowel of compassion.
True, I believe the only sinner
Is he that eats a shabby dinner.
You know how Adam with good reason,
For eating apples out of season,
Was "cursed." But that is all symbolic:
The truth is, Adam had the colic.
G.J.
T
T,
the twentieth letter of the English alphabet, was by the Greeks absurdly
called tau. In the alphabet whence ours comes it had the form of
the rude corkscrew of the period, and when it stood alone (which was more
than the Phoenicians could always do) signified Tallegal,
translated by the learned Dr. Brownrigg, "tanglefoot."
Table
d' Hôte, n. A
caterer's thrifty concession to the universal passion for
irresponsibility.
Old Paunchinello, freshly wed,
Took Madam P. to table,
And there deliriously fed
As fast as he was able.
"I dote upon good grub," he cried,
Intent upon its throatage.
"Ah, yes," said the neglected bride,
"You're in your table d' hôtage."
Associated Poets.
Tail, n. The
part of an animal's spine that has transcended its natural limitations to
set up an independent existence in a world of its own. Excepting in its
foetal state, Man is without a tail, a privation of which he attests an
hereditary and uneasy consciousness by the coat-skirt of the male and the
train of the female, and by a marked tendency to ornament that part of his
attire where the tail should be, and indubitably once was. This tendency
is most observable in the female of the species, in whom the ancestral
sense is strong and persistent. The tailed men described by Lord Monboddo
are now generally regarded as a product of an imagination unusually
susceptible to influences generated in the golden age of our pithecan
past.
Take, v.t. To
acquire, frequently by force but preferably by stealth.
Talk, v.t. To
commit an indiscretion without temptation, from an impulse without
purpose.
Tariff, n. A
scale of taxes on imports, designed to protect the domestic producer
against the greed of his consumer.
The Enemy of Human Souls
Sat grieving at the cost of coals;
For Hell had been annexed of late,
And was a sovereign Southern State.
"It were no more than right," said he,
"That I should get my fuel free.
The duty, neither just nor wise,
Compels me to economize—
Whereby my broilers, every one,
Are execrably underdone.
What would they have?— although I yearn
To do them nicely to a turn,
I can't afford an honest heat.
This tariff makes even devils cheat!
I'm ruined, and my humble trade
All rascals may at will invade:
Beneath my nose the public press
Outdoes me in sulphureousness;
The bar ingeniously applies
To my undoing my own lies;
My medicines the doctors use
(Albeit vainly) to refuse
To me my fair and rightful prey
And keep their own in shape to pay;
The preachers by example teach
What, scorning to perform, I preach;
And statesmen, aping me, all make
More promises than they can break.
Against such competition I
Lift up a disregarded cry.
Since all ignore my just complaint,
By Hokey-Pokey! I'll turn saint!"
Now, the Republicans, who all
Are saints, began at once to bawl
Against his competition; so
There was a devil of a go!
They locked horns with him, tête-à-tête
In acrimonious debate,
Till Democrats, forlorn and lone,
Had hopes of coming by their own.
That evil to avert, in haste
The two belligerents embraced;
But since 'twere wicked to relax
A tittle of the Sacred Tax,
'Twas finally agreed to grant
The bold Insurgent-protestant
A bounty on each soul that fell
Into his ineffectual Hell.
Edam Smith.
Technicality, n. In
an English court a man named Home was tried for slander in having accused
his neighbor of murder. His exact words were: "Sir Thomas Holt hath taken
a cleaver and stricken his cook upon the head, so that one side of the
head fell upon one shoulder and the other side upon the other shoulder."
The defendant was acquitted by instruction of the court, the learned
judges holding that the words did not charge murder, for they did not
affirm the death of the cook, that being only an inference.
Tedium, n. Ennui,
the state or condition of one that is bored. Many fanciful derivations of
the word have been affirmed, but so high an authority as Father Jape says
that it comes from a very obvious source— the first words of the ancient
Latin hymn Te Deum Laudamus. In this apparently natural derivation
there is something that saddens.
Teetotaler, n. One
who abstains from strong drink, sometimes totally, sometimes tolerably
totally.
Telephone, n. An
invention of the devil which abrogates some of the advantages of making a
disagreeable person keep his distance.
Telescope, n. A
device having a relation to the eye similar to that of the telephone to
the ear, enabling distant objects to plague us with a multitude of
needless details. Luckily it is unprovided with a bell summoning us to the
sacrifice.
Tenacity, n. A
certain quality of the human hand in its relation to the coin of the
realm. It attains its highest development in the hand of authority and is
considered a serviceable equipment for a career in politics. The following
illustrative lines were written of a Californian gentleman in high
political preferment, who has passed to his accounting:
Of such tenacity his grip
That nothing from his hand can slip.
Well-buttered eels you may o'erwhelm
In tubs of liquid slippery-elm
In vain— from his detaining pinch
They cannot struggle half an inch!
'Tis lucky that he so is planned
That breath he draws not with his hand,
For if he did, so great his greed
He'd draw his last with eager speed.
Nay, that were well, you say. Not so
He'd draw but never let it go!
Theosophy, n. An
ancient faith having all the certitude of religion and all the mystery of
science. The modern Theosophist holds, with the Buddhists, that we live an
incalculable number of times on this earth, in as many several bodies,
because one life is not long enough for our complete spiritual
development; that is, a single lifetime does not suffice for us to become
as wise and good as we choose to wish to become. To be absolutely wise and
good— that is perfection; and the Theosophist is so keen-sighted as to
have observed that everything desirous of improvement eventually attains
perfection. Less competent observers are disposed to except cats, which
seem neither wiser nor better than they were last year. The greatest and
fattest of recent Theosophists was the late Madame Blavatsky, who had no
cat.
Tights, n. An
habiliment of the stage designed to reinforce the general acclamation of
the press agent with a particular publicity. Public attention was once
somewhat diverted from this garment to Miss Lillian Russell's refusal to
wear it, and many were the conjectures as to her motive, the guess of Miss
Pauline Hall showing a high order of ingenuity and sustained reflection.
It was Miss Hall's belief that nature had not endowed Miss Russell with
beautiful legs. This theory was impossible of acceptance by the male
understanding, but the conception of a faulty female leg was of so
prodigious originality as to rank among the most brilliant feats of
philosophical speculation! It is strange that in all the controversy
regarding Miss Russell's aversion to tights no one seems to have thought
to ascribe it to what was known among the ancients as "modesty." The
nature of that sentiment is now imperfectly understood, and possibly
incapable of exposition with the vocabulary that remains to us. The study
of lost arts has, however, been recently revived and some of the arts
themselves recovered. This is an epoch of renaissances, and there
is ground for hope that the primitive "blush" may be dragged from its
hiding-place amongst the tombs of antiquity and hissed on to the stage.
Tomb, n. The
House of Indifference. Tombs are now by common consent invested with a
certain sanctity, but when they have been long tenanted it is considered
no sin to break them open and rifle them, the famous Egyptologist, Dr.
Huggyns, explaining that a tomb may be innocently "glened" as soon as its
occupant is done "smellynge," the soul being then all exhaled. This
reasonable view is now generally accepted by archaeologists, whereby the
noble science of Curiosity has been greatly dignified.
Tope, v. To
tipple, booze, swill, soak, guzzle, lush, bib, or swig. In the individual,
toping is regarded with disesteem, but toping nations are in the forefront
of civilization and power. When pitted against the hard-drinking
Christians the abstemious Mahometans go down like grass before the scythe.
In India one hundred thousand beef-eating and brandy-and-soda guzzling
Britons hold in subjection two hundred and fifty million vegetarian
abstainers of the same Aryan race. With what an easy grace the
whisky-loving American pushed the temperate Spaniard out of his
possessions! From the time when the Berserkers ravaged all the coasts of
western Europe and lay drunk in every conquered port it has been the same
way: everywhere the nations that drink too much are observed to fight
rather well and not too righteously. Wherefore the estimable old ladies
who abolished the canteen from the American army may justly boast of
having materially augmented the nation's military power.
Tortoise, n. A
creature thoughtfully created to supply occasion for the following lines
by the illustrious Ambat Delaso:
TO MY PET TORTOISE
My friend, you are not graceful— not at all;
Your gait's between a stagger and a sprawl.
Nor are you beautiful: your head's a snake's
To look at, and I do not doubt it aches.
As to your feet, they'd make an angel weep.
'Tis true you take them in whene'er you sleep.
No, you're not pretty, but you have, I own,
A certain firmness— mostly you're backbone.
Firmness and strength (you have a giant's thews)
Are virtues that the great know how to use—
I wish that they did not; yet, on the whole,
You lack— excuse my mentioning it— Soul.
So, to be candid, unreserved and true,
I'd rather you were I than I were you.
Perhaps, however, in a time to be,
When Man's extinct, a better world may see
Your progeny in power and control,
Due to the genesis and growth of Soul.
So I salute you as a reptile grand
Predestined to regenerate the land.
Father of Possibilities, O deign
To accept the homage of a dying reign!
In the far region of the unforeknown
I dream a tortoise upon every throne.
I see an Emperor his head withdraw
Into his carapace for fear of Law;
A King who carries something else than fat,
Howe'er acceptably he carries that;
A President not strenuously bent
On punishment of audible dissent—
Who never shot (it were a vain attack)
An armed or unarmed tortoise in the back;
Subject and citizens that feel no need
To make the March of Mind a wild stampede;
All progress slow, contemplative, sedate,
And "Take your time" the word, in Church and State.
O Tortoise, 'tis a happy, happy dream,
My glorious testudinous régime!
I wish in Eden you'd brought this about
By slouching in and chasing Adam out.
Tree, n. A
tall vegetable intended by nature to serve as a penal apparatus, though
through a miscarriage of justice most trees bear only a negligible fruit,
or none at all. When naturally fruited, the tree is a beneficent agency of
civilization and an important factor in public morals. In the stern West
and the sensitive South its fruit (white and black respectively) though
not eaten, is agreeable to the public taste and, though not exported,
profitable to the general welfare. That the legitimate relation of the
tree to justice was no discovery of Judge Lynch (who, indeed, conceded it
no primacy over the lamp-post and the bridge-girder) is made plain by the
following passage from Morryster, who antedated him by two centuries:
While in yt
londe I was carried to see ye Ghogo tree, whereof I had hearde
moch talk; but sayynge yt I saw naught remarkabyll in it, ye
hed manne of ye villayge where it grewe made answer as
followeth:
"Ye tree is
not nowe in fruite, but in his seasonne you shall see dependynge fr. his
braunches all soch as have affroynted ye King his Majesty."
And I was furder tolde
yt ye worde "Ghogo" sygnifyeth in yr tong
ye same as "rapscal" in our owne.— Trauvells in ye
Easte.
Trial, n. A
formal inquiry designed to prove and put upon record the blameless
characters of judges, advocates and jurors. In order to effect this
purpose it is necessary to supply a contrast in the person of one who is
called the defendant, the prisoner, or the accused. If the contrast is
made sufficiently clear this person is made to undergo such an affliction
as will give the virtuous gentlemen a comfortable sense of their immunity,
added to that of their worth. In our day the accused is usually a human
being, or a socialist, but in mediaeval times, animals, fishes, reptiles
and insects were brought to trial. A beast that had taken human life, or
practiced sorcery, was duly arrested, tried and, if condemned, put to
death by the public executioner. Insects ravaging grain fields, orchards
or vineyards were cited to appeal by counsel before a civil tribunal, and
after testimony, argument and condemnation, if they continued in
contumaciam the matter was taken to a high ecclesiastical court, where
they were solemnly excommunicated and anathematized. In a street of
Toledo, some pigs that had wickedly run between the viceroy's legs,
upsetting him, were arrested on a warrant, tried and punished. In Naples
and ass was condemned to be burned at the stake, but the sentence appears
not to have been executed. D'Addosio relates from the court records many
trials of pigs, bulls, horses, cocks, dogs, goats, etc., greatly, it is
believed, to the betterment of their conduct and morals. In 1451 a suit
was brought against the leeches infesting some ponds about Berne, and the
Bishop of Lausanne, instructed by the faculty of Heidelberg University,
directed that some of "the aquatic worms" be brought before the local
magistracy. This was done and the leeches, both present and absent, were
ordered to leave the places that they had infested within three days on
pain of incurring "the malediction of God." In the voluminous records of
this cause celebre nothing is found to show whether the offenders
braved the punishment, or departed forthwith out of that inhospitable
jurisdiction.
Trichinosis, n. The
pig's reply to proponents of porcophagy.
Moses Mendlessohn
having fallen ill sent for a Christian physician, who at once diagnosed
the philosopher's disorder as trichinosis, but tactfully gave it another
name. "You need an immediate change of diet," he said; "you must eat six
ounces of pork every other day."
"Pork?" shrieked the
patient— "pork? Nothing shall induce me to touch it!"
"Do you mean that?"
the doctor gravely asked.
"I swear it!"
"Good!— then I will
undertake to cure you."
Trinity, n. In
the multiplex theism of certain Christian churches, three entirely
distinct deities consistent with only one. Subordinate deities of the
polytheistic faith, such as devils and angels, are not dowered with the
power of combination, and must urge individually their claims to adoration
and propitiation. The Trinity is one of the most sublime mysteries of our
holy religion. In rejecting it because it is incomprehensible, Unitarians
betray their inadequate sense of theological fundamentals. In religion we
believe only what we do not understand, except in the instance of an
intelligible doctrine that contradicts an incomprehensible one. In that
case we believe the former as a part of the latter.
Troglodyte, n. Specifically,
a cave-dweller of the paleolithic period, after the Tree and before the
Flat. A famous community of troglodytes dwelt with David in the Cave of
Adullam. The colony consisted of "every one that was in distress, and
every one that was in debt, and every one that was discontented"— in
brief, all the Socialists of Judah.
Truce, n. Friendship.
Truth, n. An
ingenious compound of desirability and appearance. Discovery of truth is
the sole purpose of philosophy, which is the most ancient occupation of
the human mind and has a fair prospect of existing with increasing
activity to the end of time.
Truthful, adj. Dumb
and illiterate.
Trust, n. In
American politics, a large corporation composed in greater part of thrifty
working men, widows of small means, orphans in the care of guardians and
the courts, with many similar malefactors and public enemies.
Turkey, n. A
large bird whose flesh when eaten on certain religious anniversaries has
the peculiar property of attesting piety and gratitude. Incidentally, it
is pretty good eating.
Twice, adv. Once
too often.
Type, n. Pestilent
bits of metal suspected of destroying civilization and enlightenment,
despite their obvious agency in this incomparable dictionary.
Tzetze (or
Tsetse) Fly, n. An African insect (Glossina morsitans)
whose bite is commonly regarded as nature's most efficacious remedy for
insomnia, though some patients prefer that of the American novelist (Mendax
interminabilis).
U
Ubiquity, n. The
gift or power of being in all places at one time, but not in all places at
all times, which is omnipresence, an attribute of God and the luminiferous
ether only. This important distinction between ubiquity and omnipresence
was not clear to the mediaeval Church and there was much bloodshed about
it. Certain Lutherans, who affirmed the presence everywhere of Christ's
body were known as Ubiquitarians. For this error they were doubtless
damned, for Christ's body is present only in the eucharist, though that
sacrament may be performed in more than one place simultaneously. In
recent times ubiquity has not always been understood— not even by Sir
Boyle Roche, for example, who held that a man cannot be in two places at
once unless he is a bird.
Ugliness, n. A
gift of the gods to certain women, entailing virtue without humility.
Ultimatum, n. In
diplomacy, a last demand before resorting to concessions.
Having received an
ultimatum from Austria, the Turkish Ministry met to consider it.
"O servant of the
Prophet," said the Sheik of the Imperial Chibouk to the Mamoosh of the
Invincible Army, "how many unconquerable soldiers have we in arms?"
"Upholder of the
Faith," that dignitary replied after examining his memoranda, "they are in
numbers as the leaves of the forest!"
"And how many
impenetrable battleships strike terror to the hearts of all Christian
swine?" he asked the Imaum of the Ever Victorious Navy.
"Uncle of the Full
Moon," was the reply, "deign to know that they are as the waves of the
ocean, the sands of the desert and the stars of Heaven!"
For eight hours the
broad brow of the Sheik of the Imperial Chibouk was corrugated with
evidences of deep thought: he was calculating the chances of war. Then,
"Sons of angels," he said, "the die is cast! I shall suggest to the Ulema
of the Imperial Ear that he advise inaction. In the name of Allah, the
council is adjourned."
Un-American, adj. Wicked,
intolerable, heathenish.
Unction, n. An
oiling, or greasing. The rite of extreme unction consists in touching with
oil consecrated by a bishop several parts of the body of one engaged in
dying. Marbury relates that after the rite had been administered to a
certain wicked English nobleman it was discovered that the oil had not
been properly consecrated and no other could be obtained. When informed of
this the sick man said in anger: "Then I'll be damned if I die!"
"My son," said the
priest, "this is what we fear."
Understanding, n. A
cerebral secretion that enables one having it to know a house from a horse
by the roof on the house. Its nature and laws have been exhaustively
expounded by Locke, who rode a house, and Kant, who lived in a horse.
His understanding was so keen
That all things which he'd felt, heard, seen,
He could interpret without fail
If he was in or out of jail.
He wrote at Inspiration's call
Deep disquisitions on them all,
Then, pent at last in an asylum,
Performed the service to compile 'em.
So great a writer, all men swore,
They never had not read before.
Jorrock Wormley.
Unitarian, n. One
who denies the divinity of a Trinitarian.
Universalist, n. One
who forgoes the advantage of a Hell for persons of another faith.
Urbanity, n. The
kind of civility that urban observers ascribe to dwellers in all cities
but New York. Its commonest expression is heard in the words, "I beg your
pardon," and it is not consistent with disregard of the rights of others.
The owner of a powder mill
Was musing on a distant hill—
Something his mind foreboded—
When from the cloudless sky there fell
A deviled human kidney! Well,
The man's mill had exploded.
His hat he lifted from his head;
"I beg your pardon, sir," he said;
"I didn't know 'twas loaded."
Swatkin.
Usage, n. The
First Person of the literary Trinity, the Second and Third being Custom
and Conventionality. Imbued with a decent reverence for this Holy Triad an
industrious writer may hope to produce books that will live as long as the
fashion.
Uxoriousness, n. A
perverted affection that has strayed to one's own wife.
V
Valor, n. A
soldierly compound of vanity, duty and the gambler's hope.
"Why have you
halted?" roared the commander of a division at Chickamauga, who had
ordered a charge; "move forward, sir, at once."
"General," said the
commander of the delinquent brigade, "I am persuaded that any further
display of valor by my troops will bring them into collision with the
enemy."
Vanity, n. The
tribute of a fool to the worth of the nearest ass.
They say that hens do cackle loudest when
There's nothing vital in the eggs they've laid;
And there are hens, professing to have made
A study of mankind, who say that men
Whose business 'tis to drive the tongue or pen
Make the most clamorous fanfaronade
O'er their most worthless work; and I'm afraid
They're not entirely different from the hen.
Lo! the drum-major in his coat of gold,
His blazing breeches and high-towering cap—
Imperiously pompous, grandly bold,
Grim, resolute, an awe-inspiring chap!
Who'd think this gorgeous creature's only virtue
Is that in battle he will never hurt you?
Hannibal Hunsiker.
Virtues, n.pl. Certain
abstentions.
Vituperation, n. Satire,
as understood by dunces and all such as suffer from an impediment in their
wit.
Vote, n. The
instrument and symbol of a freeman's power to make a fool of himself and a
wreck of his country.
W
W (double
U) has, of all the letters in our alphabet, the only cumbrous name, the
names of the others being monosyllabic. This advantage of the Roman
alphabet over the Grecian is the more valued after audibly spelling out
some simple Greek word, like epicoriambikoz.
Still, it is now thought by the learned that other agencies than the
difference of the two alphabets may have been concerned in the decline of
"the glory that was Greece" and the rise of "the grandeur that was Rome."
There can be no doubt, however, that by simplifying the name of W (calling
it "wow," for example) our civilization could be, if not promoted, at
least better endured.
Wall
Street, n. A
symbol of sin for every devil to rebuke. That Wall Street is a den of
thieves is a belief that serves every unsuccessful thief in place of a
hope in Heaven. Even the great and good Andrew Carnegie has made his
profession of faith in the matter.
Carnegie the dauntless has uttered his call
To battle: "The brokers are parasites all!"
Carnegie, Carnegie, you'll never prevail;
Keep the wind of your slogan to belly your sail,
Go back to your isle of perpetual brume,
Silence your pibroch, doff tartan and plume:
Ben Lomond is calling his son from the fray—
Fly, fly from the region of Wall Street away!
While still you're possessed of a single baubee
(I wish it were pledged to endowment of me)
'Twere wise to retreat from the wars of finance
Lest its value decline ere your credit advance.
For a man 'twixt a king of finance and the sea,
Carnegie, Carnegie, your tongue is too free!
Anonymous Bink.
War, n. A
by-product of the arts of peace. The most menacing political condition is
a period of international amity. The student of history who has not been
taught to expect the unexpected may justly boast himself inaccessible to
the light. "In time of peace prepare for war" has a deeper meaning than is
commonly discerned; it means, not merely that all things earthly have an
end— that change is the one immutable and eternal law— but that the soil
of peace is thickly sown with the seeds of war and singularly suited to
their germination and growth. It was when Kubla Khan had decreed his
"stately pleasure dome"— when, that is to say, there were peace and fat
feasting in Xanadu— that he
heard from far
Ancestral voices prophesying war.
One of the greatest
of poets, Coleridge was one of the wisest of men, and it was not for
nothing that he read us this parable. Let us have a little less of "hands
across the sea," and a little more of that elemental distrust that is the
security of nations. War loves to come like a thief in the night;
professions of eternal amity provide the night.
Washingtonian, n. A
Potomac tribesman who exchanged the privilege of governing himself for the
advantage of good government. In justice to him it should be said that he
did not want to.
They took away his vote and gave instead
The right, when he had earned, to eat his bread.
In vain— he clamors for his "boss," poor soul,
To come again and part him from his roll.
Offenbach Stutz.
Weaknesses, n.pl. Certain
primal powers of Tyrant Woman wherewith she holds dominion over the male
of her species, binding him to the service of her will and paralyzing his
rebellious energies.
Weather, n. The
climate of the hour. A permanent topic of conversation among persons whom
it does not interest, but who have inherited the tendency to chatter about
it from naked arboreal ancestors whom it keenly concerned. The setting up
of official weather bureaus and their maintenance in mendacity prove that
even governments are accessible to suasion by the rude forefathers of the
jungle.
Once I dipt into the future far as human eye could see,
And I saw the Chief Forecaster, dead as any one can be—
Dead and damned and shut in Hades as a liar from his birth,
With a record of unreason seldom paralleled on earth.
While I looked he reared him solemnly, that incandescent
youth,
From the coals that he'd preferred to the advantages of
truth.
He cast his eyes about him and above him; then he wrote
On a slab of thin asbestos what I venture here to quote—
For I read it in the rose-light of the everlasting glow:
"Cloudy; variable winds, with local showers; cooler; snow."
Halcyon Jones.
Wedding, n. A
ceremony at which two persons undertake to become one, one undertakes to
become nothing, and nothing undertakes to become supportable.
Werewolf, n. A
wolf that was once, or is sometimes, a man. All werewolves are of evil
disposition, having assumed a bestial form to gratify a bestial appetite,
but some, transformed by sorcery, are as humane and is consistent with an
acquired taste for human flesh.
Some Bavarian
peasants having caught a wolf one evening, tied it to a post by the tail
and went to bed. The next morning nothing was there! Greatly perplexed,
they consulted the local priest, who told them that their captive was
undoubtedly a werewolf and had resumed its human for during the night.
"The next time that you take a wolf," the good man said, "see that you
chain it by the leg, and in the morning you will find a Lutheran."
Whangdepootenawah, n. In
the Ojibwa tongue, disaster; an unexpected affliction that strikes hard.
Should you ask me whence this laughter,
Whence this audible big-smiling,
With its labial extension,
With its maxillar distortion
And its diaphragmic rhythmus
Like the billowing of an ocean,
Like the shaking of a carpet,
I should answer, I should tell you:
From the great deeps of the spirit,
From the unplummeted abysmus
Of the soul this laughter welleth
As the fountain, the gug-guggle,
Like the river from the cañon,
To entoken and give warning
That my present mood is sunny.
Should you ask me further question—
Why the great deeps of the spirit,
Why the unplummeted abysmus
Of the soul extrudes this laughter,
This all audible big-smiling,
I should answer, I should tell you
With a white heart, tumpitumpy,
With a true tongue, honest Injun:
William Bryan, he has Caught It,
Caught the Whangdepootenawah!
Is't the sandhill crane, the shankank,
Standing in the marsh, the kneedeep,
Standing silent in the kneedeep
With his wing-tips crossed behind him
And his neck close-reefed before him,
With his bill, his william, buried
In the down upon his bosom,
With his head retracted inly,
While his shoulders overlook it?
Does the sandhill crane, the shankank,
Shiver grayly in the north wind,
Wishing he had died when little,
As the sparrow, the chipchip, does?
No 'tis not the Shankank standing,
Standing in the gray and dismal
Marsh, the gray and dismal kneedeep.
No, 'tis peerless William Bryan
Realizing that he's Caught It,
Caught the Whangdepootenawah!
Wheat, n. A
cereal from which a tolerably good whisky can with some difficulty be
made, and which is used also for bread. The French are said to eat more
bread per capita of population than any other people, which is
natural, for only they know how to make the stuff palatable.
White, adj. and n. Black.
Widow, n. A
pathetic figure that the Christian world has agreed to take humorously,
although Christ's tenderness towards widows was one of the most marked
features of his character.
Wine, n. Fermented
grape-juice known to the Women's Christian Union as "liquor," sometimes as
"rum." Wine, madam, is God's next best gift to man.
Wit, n. The
salt with which the American humorist spoils his intellectual cookery by
leaving it out.
Witch, n. (1)
Any ugly and repulsive old woman, in a wicked league with the devil. (2) A
beautiful and attractive young woman, in wickedness a league beyond the
devil.
Witticism, n. A
sharp and clever remark, usually quoted, and seldom noted; what the
Philistine is pleased to call a "joke."
Woman, n.
An animal usually living in the vicinity of Man, and having a rudimentary
susceptibility to domestication. It is credited by many of the elder
zoologists with a certain vestigial docility acquired in a former state of
seclusion, but naturalists of the postsusananthony period, having no
knowledge of the seclusion, deny the virtue and declare that such as
creation's dawn beheld, it roareth now. The species is the most widely
distributed of all beasts of prey, infesting all habitable parts of the
globe, from Greenland's spicy mountains to India's moral strand. The
popular name (wolf-man) is incorrect, for the creature is of the cat kind.
The woman is lithe and graceful in its movement, especially the American
variety (felis pugnans), is omnivorous and can be taught not to
talk.— Balthasar Pober.
Worms'-meat, n. The
finished product of which we are the raw material. The contents of the Taj
Mahal, the Tombeau Napoleon and the Grantarium. Worms'-meat is usually
outlasted by the structure that houses it, but "this too must pass away."
Probably the silliest work in which a human being can engage is
construction of a tomb for himself. The solemn purpose cannot dignify, but
only accentuates by contrast the foreknown futility.
Ambitious fool! so mad to be a show!
How profitless the labor you bestow
Upon a dwelling whose magnificence
The tenant neither can admire nor know.
Build deep, build high, build massive as you can,
The wanton grass-roots will defeat the plan
By shouldering asunder all the stones
In what to you would be a moment's span.
Time to the dead so all unreckoned flies
That when your marble is all dust, arise,
If wakened, stretch your limbs and yawn—
You'll think you scarcely can have closed your eyes.
What though of all man's works your tomb alone
Should stand till Time himself be overthrown?
Would it advantage you to dwell therein
Forever as a stain upon a stone?
Joel Huck.
Worship, n. Homo
Creator's testimony to the sound construction and fine finish of Deus
Creatus. A popular form of abjection, having an element of pride.
Wrath, n. Anger
of a superior quality and degree, appropriate to exalted characters and
momentous occasions; as, "the wrath of God," "the day of wrath," etc.
Amongst the ancients the wrath of kings was deemed sacred, for it could
usually command the agency of some god for its fit manifestation, as could
also that of a priest. The Greeks before Troy were so harried by Apollo
that they jumped out of the frying-pan of the wrath of Chryses into the
fire of the wrath of Achilles, though Agamemnon, the sole offender, was
neither fried nor roasted. A similar noted immunity was that of David when
he incurred the wrath of Yahveh by numbering his people, seventy thousand
of whom paid the penalty with their lives. God is now Love, and a director
of the census performs his work without apprehension of disaster.
X
X
in our alphabet being a needless letter has an added invincibility to the
attacks of the spelling reformers, and like them, will doubtless last as
long as the language. X is the sacred symbol of ten dollars, and in such
words as Xmas, Xn, etc., stands for Christ, not, as is popular supposed,
because it represents a cross, but because the corresponding letter in the
Greek alphabet is the initial of his name— Cristoz.
If it represented a cross it would stand for St. Andrew, who "testified"
upon one of that shape. In the algebra of psychology x stands for
Woman's mind. Words beginning with X are Grecian and will not be defined
in this standard English dictionary.
Y
Yankee, n. In
Europe, an American. In the Northern States of our Union, a New Englander.
In the Southern States the word is unknown. (See DAMYANK.)
Year, n. A
period of three hundred and sixty-five disappointments.
Yesterday, n. The
infancy of youth, the youth of manhood, the entire past of age.
But yesterday I should have thought me blest
To stand high-pinnacled upon the peak
Of middle life and look adown the bleak
And unfamiliar foreslope to the West,
Where solemn shadows all the land invest
And stilly voices, half-remembered, speak
Unfinished prophecy, and witch-fires freak
The haunted twilight of the Dark of Rest.
Yea, yesterday my soul was all aflame
To stay the shadow on the dial's face
At manhood's noonmark! Now, in God His name
I chide aloud the little interspace
Disparting me from Certitude, and fain
Would know the dream and vision ne'er again.
Baruch Arnegriff.
It is said that in
his last illness the poet Arnegriff was attended at different times by
seven doctors.
Yoke, n. An
implement, madam, to whose Latin name, jugum, we owe one of the
most illuminating words in our language— a word that defines the
matrimonial situation with precision, point and poignancy. A thousand
apologies for withholding it.
Youth, n. The
Period of Possibility, when Archimedes finds a fulcrum, Cassandra has a
following and seven cities compete for the honor of endowing a living
Homer.
Youth is the true
Saturnian Reign, the Golden Age on earth again, when figs are grown on
thistles, and pigs betailed with whistles and, wearing silken bristles,
live ever in clover, and cows fly over, delivering milk at every door, and
Justice never is heard to snore, and every assassin is made a ghost and,
howling, is cast into Baltimost!— Polydore Smith.
Z
Zany, n. A
popular character in old Italian plays, who imitated with ludicrous
incompetence the buffone, or clown, and was therefore the ape of an
ape; for the clown himself imitated the serious characters of the play.
The zany was progenitor to the specialist in humor, as we to-day have the
unhappiness to know him. In the zany we see an example of creation; in the
humorist, of transmission. Another excellent specimen of the modern zany
is the curate, who apes the rector, who apes the bishop, who apes the
archbishop, who apes the devil.
Zanzibari, n. An
inhabitant of the Sultanate of Zanzibar, off the eastern coast of Africa.
The Zanzibaris, a warlike people, are best known in this country through a
threatening diplomatic incident that occurred a few years ago. The
American consul at the capital occupied a dwelling that faced the sea,
with a sandy beach between. Greatly to the scandal of this official's
family, and against repeated remonstrances of the official himself, the
people of the city persisted in using the beach for bathing. One day a
woman came down to the edge of the water and was stooping to remove her
attire (a pair of sandals) when the consul, incensed beyond restraint,
fired a charge of bird-shot into the most conspicuous part of her person.
Unfortunately for the existing entente cordiale between two great
nations, she was the Sultana.
Zeal, n. A
certain nervous disorder afflicting the young and inexperienced. A passion
that goeth before a sprawl.
When Zeal sought Gratitude for his reward
He went away exclaiming: "O my Lord!"
"What do you want?" the Lord asked, bending down.
"An ointment for my cracked and bleeding crown."
Jum Coople.
Zenith, n. The
point in the heavens directly overhead to a standing man or a growing
cabbage. A man in bed or a cabbage in the pot is not considered as having
a zenith, though from this view of the matter there was once a
considerable dissent among the learned, some holding that the posture of
the body was immaterial. These were called Horizontalists, their
opponents, Verticalists. The Horizontalist heresy was finally extinguished
by Xanobus, the philosopher-king of Abara, a zealous Verticalist. Entering
an assembly of philosophers who were debating the matter, he cast a
severed human head at the feet of his opponents and asked them to
determine its zenith, explaining that its body was hanging by the heels
outside. Observing that it was the head of their leader, the
Horizontalists hastened to profess themselves converted to whatever
opinion the Crown might be pleased to hold, and Horizontalism took its
place among fides defuncti.
Zeus, n. The
chief of Grecian gods, adored by the Romans as Jupiter and by the modern
Americans as God, Gold, Mob and Dog. Some explorers who have touched upon
the shores of America, and one who professes to have penetrated a
considerable distance to the interior, have thought that these four names
stand for as many distinct deities, but in his monumental work on
Surviving Faiths, Frumpp insists that the natives are monotheists, each
having no other god than himself, whom he worships under many sacred
names.
Zigzag, v.t. To
move forward uncertainly, from side to side, as one carrying the white
man's burden. (From zed, z, and jag, an Icelandic word of
unknown meaning.)
He zedjagged so uncomen wyde
Thet non coude pas on eyder syde;
So, to com saufly thruh, I been
Constreynet for to doodge betwene.
Munwele.
Zoölogy, n. The
science and history of the animal kingdom, including its king, the House
Fly (Musca maledicta). The father of Zoölogy was Aristotle, as is
universally conceded, but the name of its mother has not come down to us.
Two of the science's most illustrious expounders were Buffon and Oliver
Goldsmith, from both of whom we learn (L'Histoire générale des animaux
and A History of Animated Nature) that the domestic cow sheds its
horn every two years.
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