San Francisco, July 1st.
To Editor New York Newspaper who do it like Hon. Sampson & murder deceptive tigers with ham-bone of a mule.
Dear Sir—In Jambeezi Creek, majistickal river of darky Africa, nervous tense of suppressed excitement & impatient longing are being enjoyed by splandid menagerie of brutal beasts & curios residing there. Seldom have foliage of uncut Nature made such a nice invitation for a distinguished visitor to come and shoot at it. Seldom in Chicago was such 45-minute demonstration gave to One Man by a convention of entirely wild animals. Seldom in history of Nature-fake have Hon. Tom Seton or Hon. John Burro observed animals doing such behaviour without going to jail. Imagine with your brain, Mr. Editor, such squeak-rore & bellus of 10,000 elephants assisted by tigers and other dennisons of forest which has talent for making noises if nothing else! It are like a suffragette caucus in winter quarters of Barnum & Bailey; it are the voice of Nature becoming hoarse with ovation of banzai for the King of the Juggle, a Ramrod among hunters, the only entirely retired Emporer that ever told the Truth about Africa at the rate of $2 a word and $4 for hard ones!
In deeps of juggly forest Mother Elephant set neath cocanuts & hold Baby Elephant in her arms.
“What aily you, tender Infant?” she require for worry, brushing back its goldy locks.
“Female mother,” he prattle, “what date of calendar do it be?”
“To-day are Thursday, Aug. 13, by N. Y. Journal,” she reclaim for nervous calm.
“Ah sad!” sob Hon. Child, winding trunk around neck of its female mother. “It are such a length of time till!”
“Till which?” blow-out she.
“Till March 4th,” remark child, “when Hon. Roosevelt may obtain a vacation for 4 years & come Africa to shoot Father.”
“Hush, child,” say Hon. Mother Elephant. “Hon. Roosevelt have got other large game besides Elephants on his hands. He have got Mr. Taft.”
“And when Mr. Taft are entirely elected, what then-so?”
“And then-so your Mother & Father will both receive some very distinguished shoots from that great mans. And maybe, if you are a very good little Baby Elephant and do not climb no trees, maybe you too will get a nice little bullet from Hon. Roosevelt.”
So Baby Elephant go sleep on shoulder-blade of Mother without no more lullabys.
Among banana trees of river-bank reside Jib-jab, the man-chewing Tiger, who is a friend of Mr. Kipling’s. He set by bright pooly-water worshiping his mustash which is bees-wax upward to make look like Emperor Wm. When along come Jug, the poisoned cober-snake, entirely filled with prussic acid & sliding along on the seat of his stummick. He are reading Hon. Kipling’s “Juggle Book” so as learn some nice snake-language for make welcome speech of Hon. Roosevelt when he arrive.
“Good morning, Jib-jab,” he say to friend, biting him on tail for playful salute. “Are Presidential Program collaborately prepare for to be shot off when Hon. Pres. make arrival?”
“Of sure it are!” say Tiger with Frank Hitchcock expression. “I have enjoyed considerable literary correspondence with Hon. Sec. Loeb who make appointment with me for meet Hon. Roosevelt on date of May 8, 1909, when I will be entirely shot.”
“How you do to receive such honour?” snuggle Hon. Snake.
“On them May 8, 1909, I are instruct to be standing neath cocanuts with very tigerly expression of angry rage. Growls from me. From under-bush suddenly leap outly 72 dare-devilish hunters armed to teeth with photographer’s supplies. Snap-snap—I snagger back, riddled with kodaks. In vainly I endeavour to escape, but ere I can do a sneak I are surrounded by James Creelman, Jacob Riis, Dave Grame Phillips, Jack London, Bat Masterson, W. K. Bok, Arthur Brisbane, & other desperate scouts famous for shooting wild game at 25c a word and 50c for hard ones. Trembling in 4 lims & tail I am interviewed & compared to Thomas F. Ryan. All are complete then, except the Finish.
“Silence suddenly over all Africa. Birds in top-trees cease tune-whistling. Monkeys in up-twig cease practising after-dinner speeches.
“Then in the midst of hushes, One Man step forthly. It are.
“‘Hon. Ted,’ say Hon. Riis, ‘this are Hon. Tige.’ Paw-shakes are did with exhibitions of teeth from both us. ‘Dee-light!’ say Hon. Roosevelt ($4 for this word) and step backly to 30 pace. ‘Head little to right, please’ ($10) he dib, and Crack-Jordan rifle are placed to elbow. ‘Bang!’ ($2) say rifle & I fall down on Africa and give up my sinful soul with a mean snarl. After them exercises I am entirely skinned & speeches worth $680 is indulged in averaging from 25c to $4 a word. Since King Midas died from swallowing his gold teeth no King of Beasts has passed off so expensively.”
“Land of sakes!” abjeck Hon. Snake with poison face, “I am filled with venum to think what famous Brute you will be while I am merely wormly & equal to zero with a wiggle on it. While you are meeting all them fashionable literary persons, I must get stepped on & nothing else.”
“Cease to grouch!” commute Hon. Tige. “If you get industrious & bite somebody maybe you will get beaten to jello with Big Club, and thusly have name in newspaper-prints among other noted malefacktors.”
My Cousin Nogi, who are enjoying grouchies this week because Miss Furioki to which he are still married as wife has made a lope with S. Wanda, Japanese Socialist, come-me and say following for politickal rebuke:
“On March 4, 1909, scenery of disturbance will shift from Washington to Africa.”
“Hon. Roosevelt are very fond of dum animals,” I hob-nob. “They can not talk back for repartee.”
“It are a great rest-cure to become an entirely desperate hunter. While stabbing a tiger it are very difficult to remember party lines & other ugly liars. Grasping them furyus lepard by juggly vein with cruel eyes standing on end & teeth firmly planted in shoulder for delicious bite—on them occasion how tame must seem companionship of E. H. Harriman, Hon. Fork Tillman, & Hon. Jo Forker!”
“What-say Hon. Rubbert Burn, famous Scotch, about this?” I reject. “He-say:
At this quotation Sydney Katsu, Jr., make come-in to my room for borrow toothbrush.
“What grand American have wrote some light tex-book on angry animals to be shot in Africa?” he ask-it.
“Some distinguished African might do this intelligently,” I snuggest for help.
“I have perused inside of entire edition of Hon. Booker Washington,” repose Sydney, “and there I find chapter on ‘Care & Culture of Mules by Young Coloured Niggers’—and yet he are suspiciously silent about brutal beasts to be murdered on Jambeezi Creek.”
“African subjecks is kept very dark by educated Africans,” I drib for laughing-joke which sound delicious in Japanese.
“I enjoy considerable puzzle,” corrode Sydney. “If no light books is to be had about them carnibblous animals of darky Africa, how we know what expect when Hon. Roosevelt go shoot it?”
“At $2 a word one may expect anything,” I dib. “Hon. Gulliver wrote delicious travels for much less.”
“Hon. Gulliver were a short & ugly tourist,” notate Nogi.
Then in come Uncle Nichi, my ¼ ancestor, wearing congressional shoes which irritate his straw-seed appearance of Japanese farmer. He banish in hand 1 piece tab-paper of which he are foolishly proud.
“So glad!” he rake-out. “I got here a sweet list of all mad animals what reside there in dam section of Congo riverside.”
“Who give you such lists?” I require for shame because he is my bloody relation.
“Hon. Strunsky, Irish salooner, who say he has been to all parts of Africa & Indiana.”
“Read it, please,” say Sydney Katsu, Jr., who are oftenly polite because he are not related to Uncle Nichi.
So Uncle Nichi with jay spectacles read following deceptive list of brutal beasts to be shot from foliage of Africa by persons what sees them:
Piebrock—a six-legged steer what subsist on malt beveridges which he take through a straw because he have no teeth. He pulls corks with a horn which grows from the back of his neck. He can be easily told from a fagdoo because he are a different animal. He are fond of distinguished visitors and enjoys Washington gossip when entirely pure; but he are seriously dangerous when bored. When pursued he swallows his feet-prints, thus concealing his identity. Scarce during Presidential Years.
Yelk—a species of pantomome, full of delicious flavours, but awful hostile when killed. You can easily tell him from other kinds of horse because he have a head on both ends, so he appear to be approaching when backing off. He often lead hunters to doom by his kind expression.
Ook—same as a yelk with smooth corners.
Hawbuck—this are the only kind of cow that sleeps in trees. He are a very economickal mammal. When hungry he lays a dozen eggs and eats them. Hunters is warned not to shoot this brute in the eyes, because he ain’t got any and enjoys great rages when reminded of it. To kill him, tickle him in soles of feet so he will get mad & spit out his heart. His habits are valvular & conjunctive. He is just as apt to be found in Africa as anywhere else.
Tum-tum—a very small camel used by natives to hunt rats. He do this by——
“Kindly cut-out!” dib Nogi for shocked expression, “if Hon. Roosevelt should heard you he would place your photo in his Roguish Gallery and you would be celled in Liars’ Row until called for.”
“Would it not be graceful act for mail this list to Hon. Loeb?” say Unc with second-child expression. “Hon. Roosevelt might avoid such callackerous beasts if he knew about them.”
“He might, but would he?” is reject from all Japanese Boys present.
Mr. Editor, already lull of Great White Peace are settling over Washington. Hon. Roosevelt find himself with nothing to say and Hon. Taft are saying it to satisfaction of Republican Party. All is quiet along the Patomack to-night except now and then a stray rebate is shot, as it runs toward the Court of Appeals, by a rifleman hid behind the Treasury Building. The world are being run from Oyster Bay, and everybody are so happy & contented, thank you, that Hon. Newspapers is reviewing the Thaw case because they ain’t got nothing disagreeable to talk about. The Greatest Man in America set among sagamores & gaze with eyebrows to shore of beautiful Connecticut
“All work & no play make Kermit a dull boy,” he-say for deelight. “I are considerable darn tired of bearing America on my neck. I fain for to recreate. I fain to get something free & easy like frollicking from velt to kop at dewey eve snagging lightly in my teeth the following trophies of the chase:
1 gentleman elephant consisting of 6 tons & tusks.
2 Royal Bangor tigers of cross disposition.
8 ooks & a hawbuck resembling a feather boa.
21 wild Boers.
3 ground squirrils.
“African elephant,” say Hon. T., “are more superior to Republican elephant because he are entirely wild and free and refuse to pile tariff planks for no Trusts.”
So on March 4th, Mr. Editor, Africa will receive what are coming that way. When front door of White House are enlarged to carriage entrance for the Greatest Figure in the Party, from back door of that kingly place gentleman with elephant gun will rough-walk away followed by Kermit with a hatchet to cut off their heads. Can any bright Japanese Schoolboy win a prize by guessing name of them departing?
With waggly regards from O-Fido.
Yours truly,
Hashimura Togo.