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Josh Billings’ Farmer’s Allminax

by Josh Billings

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The Peach

Peaches and kream will convert enny man who iz worth saving. The peach haz a doun on them, like the doun on a maiden’s cheek, but it aint haff so plezant to git onto the lips. Peach brandy iz made out ov the peach, this licker haz been called mellow, but like all other licker that i hav tried, it will lay out a saint, just az flatt az it will a sinner. The fakt ov it iz, thare aint no kind ov ardent rum, i dont kare how artless, and gentle the name ov it iz, or how ritch, and mello yu may call it, but what will throw him who wrassells with it, be he phool, or be he philospher. Thare iz only one piece ov humanity that kan stand ardent speerits, and he iz an injun, and he kant stand it, only just long enuff to git civilized. When peach brandy is fust made it iz az hot az a streak ov litening, and just about az sudden. I once drank a tea spoon full ov it warm from the still, and it waz 20 minnitts be fore i could draw a long breath. I waz az hot inside az a chimney on fire. I thought it would brake out and blaze sum whare, but it didn’t happen to.

Digest

I konsider all profeshions that are honest, honorabell enuff, but i hav thought, that a travelling korn doktor, waz the last one i should adopt, just for the sake ov glory.


Thare iz one thing about a mule that i allwuss did like, the minnitt that you begin to flatter them, then they begin to kik.


Q.–Define dispepshy.
A.

—Nightmare ov the stummuk.

John bought next a kord of hard wood,
And sawed like a man on a bet,
It bent him dubble,—if it hadn’t,—
John would have sawed at it yet,

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