[Geo. Cumming, Esq., New York.]
[
Dear Sir]—
Your paragraph about old jokes encountered me just as I was thinking in a similar vein upon the same subject.1 You remember “Punch’s” joke: “Advice to people about to marry.—Don’t!” I was astonished two years ago to run across that same joke in some old author, who was dead, petrified ([& ] perhaps damned) before Socrates’s time.2 It never occurred to me before, but I would give something to know what they are going to do with the petrified people at the general resurrection. It seems to me I would polish them. However, my judgment may be at fault in this; &, besides, I do not think a mere man ought to be trying to make suggestions in a matter of this kind, when he has had no experience in resurrections. But, if you believe me, there are plenty of people with no better manners than to do it. In my opinion, such persons are entitled to no respect whatever.
Yours truly,
Explanatory Notes | Textual Commentary
One queer fact about many of our current
stories, squibs, paragraphs, etc., is their ancient origin. Is
it not Wendell Phillips who says in his lecture on
“Lost Arts,” in illustrating the
Solomonian proverb, “There is nothing new under the
sun,” that even our jokes are as old as the hills,
and that out of the thousands of novels published the plots can
all be traced back to a foundation ages ago, to a few romances,
perhaps less than a dozen in number. Phillips also claims the
proverbial Irish bull to be not Hibernian at all but Greek. Who
knows how much further the Grecians could trace it? Fancy
Socrates splitting his sides over a story we still rehash as
new. Hence the expression, no doubt, “He’s
a Greek refugee from Cork.” (“A Letter
from Mark Twain,” 125)
Source text(s):
Previous publication:
L6, 480–481.
Emendations and textual notes:
Farmington Avenue, Hartford, Conn. • Farmington Avenue, Hartford, Conn.
May • May
Geo. Cumming, Esq., New York. • Geo. Cumming, Esq., New York.
Dear Sir • Dear Sir
& • and [here and hereafter]
Clemens • Clemens