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I.
JOSH ON ICE

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Having herd mutch sed about skating parks, and the grate amount ov helth and muscle they woz imparting tew the present generashun at a slite advanse from fust cost, i bought a ticket and went within the fense.

I found the ice in a slippery condishun, covering about 5 akers ov artyfishall water, which waz owned bi a stock company, and froze tew order.

Upon one side ov the pond waz erekted little grosery buildings, where the wimmin sot on benches while the fellers (kivvered with blushes) hitched the magick iron tew their feet.

It waz a most exsiting scene: the sun waz in the skey – and the wind waz in the air – and the birds were in the South – and the snow waz on the ground – and the ice lay shivering with a bad kold – and angells (ov both genders) flucktuated past me pro and con, 2 and fro, here a littl and thare a good deal.

It waz a most exsiting scene; I wanted tew holler "Bully" or lay down and rool over.

But i kept in, and aked with glory.

Helth waz piktured on menny a nobell brow. Az the femail angells put out ov the pond, side by side with the male angells, it waz the most powerfull scene i ever stood behind.

The long red tape from their necks swum in the breeze, and the feathers in their jockeys fluttered in the breeze, and other things (tew muteh to menshun) fluttered in the breeze.

I don't think i ever waz more crazy before in mi life – on ice.

For 2 long hours i stood and gazed with dum exsitement.

I felt like a kanall hoss turned suddinly out to grass.

I didn't kno how tew proceed.

Az one ov the angells, more sudden than all the rest, cum flying down the trak, 3 lengths ahed ov her male angell, awl eyes ware gorging with her heavenly bust ov speed; she seemed tew hav cut luce from earth, and waz bound South, for the Cape ov Good Hope, when awl tew onst, with gorgous swoop terriffick, down-crumbling into a limpid heap she went with squeak terriffick, a living lovely mass ov disastrous skirt and tapring ankle.

Awl gathered around the bursted angell; but lo! in a minnitt's space, her wings agin was plumed, and evry feather waz in its lawfal plase; and on she fled laffing like wine thru its buteous blushes.

I had saw enuff – more happyness than belonged tew me – and az i sloly wended back tew mi home at the tavern i felt – good.

Josh Billings on Ice, and Other Things

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