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My Dear Press:

Yu ask me "how i like the lekturing bizzness," and "what success i hav met with," and "what iz the tru natur ov the lektur i hav bin dispensing?"

Briefly thus i reply:

Two years ago I jined the band ov lekturin marters, and hav "tramp'd – tramp'd!" ever sinse, and az near az i kan rekolekt now, i think i kant tell.

Mi lektur iz an attempt tew be comick.

Humor iz hybrid, and iz a nice cross between sense and nonsense.

I don't think it haz ever bin well defined: it iz like the smell ov a flower, hard tew diskribe.

Thare iz just about az mutch real humor in the best ov geniuses az thare iz juise in a lemmon: one good squeeze takes it out, and thare iz nothing but seeds and skin left.

It soon bekums hackney'd, and its authors live prekariously for about 3 years on the fust 6 months ov their reputashun, and then go in their holes and only cum out onst in a while to sun themselfs and be stupid.

I hav known men tew tell 4 good storys, and then spile them awl bi telling one poor one.

Thare iz nothing the world iz so slow to applaud az success, and nothing they are so smart at diskovering az a failure.

Mutch ov a humorist's success depends upon the physick ov hiz aujence: a man who haz the dispepshee fust rate laffs under protest, but if hiz dinner rides easy you kan tickle him with a skoop-shovel.

Humor sometimes lurks in the way a thing iz ced, and i hav seen men who earned their fun in the wrinkles ov their face.

Nonsense ain't humor, it iz only a jest.

Humor must hav sum truth in it, and a good deal don't hurt it.

I have seen a fust rait story spilte in being told, and i hav seen a poor story so well told, that if the man had applied for it he could hav had it pattented and no questions asked.

If an aujence refuse tew be tickled, yu might az well talk tew a grave-yard in the ded ov winter; but if yu git them onst mellow yu kan then stick yure thum into them anywhare.

But mi opinyun now iz that thare ain't no rule for success with a comick lektur.

A cold-blooded philosphick lektur is just az eazy az turning a grinstone: the aujence are obliged tew hold their hatchets on, and they are sure tew git ground out after a while: but you kant tell a man when tew laff; he knows what pleazes him, just az well az he knows what eats good; yu kant play a burnt slapjack, nor one that ain't well dun, onto him.

Thar ain't nothing more straining tew a humorist than tew have tew stop and explane a joke.

I hav just got hum from Boston: i put 2 spokes into the hub at Tremont Temple the two fust nights in Febuary: I lektured 15 nights in Massachewsetts.

I don't kno whether it waz a success or not: awl i kno iz i felt good myself.

Humurous lekturs, without the aid ov canvass or pantomime, are tuff tew do.

I think now i shall either git up a philosophicall lektur on the culler ov the Red Sea, or the hump ov the cammel's back, or quit lekturing.

I kan steal a good philosophicall lektur out ov sum library; but these cussed humurous lekturs hav so mutch original in them (or ought to hav) that yu kant kalkulate on them for certain – they are like twins, they kant be had nor they kant be stopped.

Upon the whole, az near az i kan guess, mi opinyun iz that humor iz a natral dissease, that a man kant ketch nor kant giv tew ennyboddy else.