During the late 1800s a man named Cal Stewart specialized in comic monologues where he pretended to be Uncle Josh Weathersby, a homespun character who lived in an imaginary New England village named, “Punkin Centre.” This is one of those monologues.
Uncle Josh Visits New York City
Well, fer a long time I had thought that I’d come down to New York, and as I had my crops all gathered in and produce sold, I calculated as how it would be a good time to come down here. Folks at home said I’d be buncoed or have my pockets picked afore I’d bin here mor’n half an hour; well, I fooled ’em, I wuz here three days afore they buncoed me.
But I’m transgressin’ from what I started to tell ye. I wuz ridin’ along in one of them sleepin’ cars comin’ here, and along in the night I felt a feller rummagin’ around under my bed, and I looked out jest in time to see him goin’ away with my boots, well I knowed the way that train wuz a runnin’ he couldn’t git off with them without breakin’ his durned neck, and durn me if in about half an hour he didn’t fetch them back, I guess they didn’t fit him. Well I wuz sort of glad he took em cause he had em all shined up slicker ‘n a new tin whistle.
Well when I got up in the mornin’ my troubles commenced. I wuz so crowded up like, durned if I could git my clothes on, and when I did git em on, durned if my pants wa’nt on hind side afore, and my socks got all tangled up in that little fish net along side of the bed and I couldn’t git em out, and I lost a bran new collar button that I traded Si Pettingill a huskin’ peg fer, and I got my right boot on my left foot and the left one on the right foot, and I wuz so durned badly mixed up I didn’t know which way the train wuz a runnin’, and I bumped my head on the roof of the bed over me, and then sat down right sudden like to think it over when some feller cum along and stepped right square on my bunion and I let out a war whoop you could a heerd over in the next county. Well, along cum that durned porter and told me I wuz a wakin’ up everybody in the car.
Then I started in to hunt fer my collar button, cause I set a right smart store by it, thar warnt another one like it in Punkin Centre, and I thought it would be kind of doubtful if they’d have any like it in New York. Well I seen what looked like my button stuck in the wall so I tried to git it loose with my jack knife, when along come that durned porter agin and ast me what I wanted, and I told him I didn’t want anything perticler, so he told me then quit ringin’ the bell. Well I didn’t see no bell, but he found my button mixed up in the bed clothes. Well, I finally got dressed and went into a room whar they had a row of little troughs to wash in, and fast as I could pump water in the durned thing it run out of a little hole in the bottom of the trough so I jest had to grab a handful, splash it on my face and then pump some more.
Well after that things went along purty well fer a right smart while, then I et a snack out of my carpet bag and felt purty good. Well that train got to runnin’ slower and slower ’till it stopped at every
house and when it cum to a double house it stopped twice. I had my ticket in my hat and I put my head out the window to look at sumthin’ when the wind blew my hat off and I lost the durned old ticket, well the conductor made me buy another one.
When I got off the ferry boat down here I commenced to think I wuz the best lookin’ old feller what ever cum to New York, thar wuz a lot of fellers down thar with 2-wheeled kerridges and one thing and another, and jest the minnit they seen me they all commenced to holler – hansome -hansome! I didn’t know I wuz so durned good lookin’. One feller tried to git my carpet bag and another tried to git my umbreller, and I jest told ’em to stand back or durned if I wouldn’t take a wrassle out of one or two of them, then I asked one of ’em if he could haul me up to the Sturtevessant hotel, and by gosh I never heered a feller stutter like that feller did in all my life, he said, “ye-ye-ye-yes sir,” and I said, “Well how much are you goin’ to charge me?” and he said, “F-f-f-fif-fif-fifty c-c-cents,” and I said, “Well I guess I’ll ride with you, but don’t talk about it any more cause I’d kinder like to git thar soon.”Well we started out and when we stopped we wuz away up at the other end of the town whar thar warn’t many houses, and I said to him, “This here ain’t the Sturtevessant hotel,” and he said, “N-n-n-no n-s-s-n-no sir.” I said, “Why didn’t you let me out at the hotel like I told ye?” and he said, “B-b-b-be c-c-c b-b-be cause I c-c-c-c-couldn’t s-s-s-say w-w-w-whoa q-q-q-q-quick enough.” Well I had a time with that feller, but I got here at last.
Poking fun at a country rube in the big city was a longtime favorite joke for writers and comedians.
Sam Moore
