A VISIT TO THE ASYLUM FOR AGED AND DECAYED

PUNSTERS.

BY OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES.

OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES was born in Cambridge, Mass., in 1809,

and was graduated at Harvard in 1829. He first studied law, but afterwards took up medicine in the schools of Paris, and, on his return home, became Professor of Anatomy and Physiology at Dartmouth in 1838. From 1847 to 1883 he filled the same chair in Harvard. He is the author of many volumes of poetry and prose, which have all a wide fame, but of which "The Autocrat of the Breakfast Table" is perhaps the best known. He is easily the first of our more literary humorists.

HAVING just returned from a visit to this admirable institution, in company with a friend who is one of the Directors, we propose giving a short account of what we saw and heard. The great success of the Asylum for Idiots and Feeble-minded Youth, several of the scholars from which have reached considerable distinction, one of them being connected with a leading Daily Paper in this city, and others having served in the State and National Legislatures, was the motive which led to the foundation of this excellent charity. Our late distinguished townsman, Noah Dow, Esquire, as is well known, bequeathed a large portion of his fortune to this establishment-" being thereto moved," as his will expressed it, "by the desire of N. Dowing some publick Institution for the benefit of Mankind." Being consulted as to the Rules of the Institution and the selection of a Superintendent, he replied, that "all Boards must construct their own Platforms of operation. Let them select anyhow, and he should be pleased." N. E. Howe, Esq., was chosen in compliance with this delicate suggestion.

The charter provides for the support of "One hundred aged and decayed Gentlemen-Punsters." On inquiry if there was no provision for females, my friend called my attention to this remarkable psychological fact, namely:

THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS A FEMALE PUNSTER.

This remark struck me forcibly, and, on reflection, I found that I never knew nor heard of one, though I have once or twice

heard a woman make a single detached pun, as I have known a

hen to crow.

On arriving at the south gate of the Asylum grounds, I was about to ring, but my friend held my arm and begged me to rap with my stick, which I did. An

old man, with a very comical face, presently opened the gate and put out his head.

"So you prefer Cane to A Bell, do you?" he said, and began chuckling and coughing at a great rate.

My friend winked at me. "You're here still, Old Joe, I see," he said to the old man.

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'Yes, yes; and it's very odd, considering how often I've bolted, nights."

He then threw open the double gates for us to ride through.

"Now," said the old man, as he pulled the gates after us, "you've had a long journey." "Why, how is that, Old Joe?" said my friend.

"Don't you see?" he answered; "there's the East hinges on one side of the gate, and there's the West hinges on t'other side-haw! haw! haw!"

We had no sooner got into the yard than a feeble little gentleman, with a remarkably

OLD JOE.

bright eye, came up to us, looking very serious, as if something had happened.

"The town has entered a complaint against the asylum as a gambling establishment," he said to my friend the Director. "What do you mean?" said my friend.

"Why, they complain that there's a lot o' rye on the premises,"

he answered, pointing to a field of that grain, and hobbled away, his shoulders shaking with laughter as he went.

On entering the main building we saw the Rules and Regulations for the Asylum conspicuously posted up. I made a few extracts, which may be interesting.

SECT. I. OF VERBAL EXERCISES.

5. Each Inmate shall be permitted to make Puns freely, from eight in the morning until ten at night, except during Service in the Chapel and Grace before Meals.

6. At ten o'clock the gas will be turned off, and no further Puns, Conundrums, or other play on words will be allowed to be uttered, or to be uttered aloud.

9. Inmates who have lost their faculties, and cannot any longer make Puns, shall be permitted to repeat such as may be selected for them by the Chaplain out of the work of Mr. Joseph Miller.

10. Violent and unmanageable Punsters who interrupt others, when engaged in conversation, with Puns, or attempts at the same, shall be deprived of their Joseph Millers, and, if necessary, placed in solitary confinement.

SECT. III. OF DEPORTMENT AT MEALS.

4. No inmate shall make any Pun, or attempt at the same, until the Blessing has been asked and the company are decently seated.

7. Certain Puns having been placed on the Index Expurgatorius of the Institution, no Inmate shall be allowed to utter them, on pain of being debarred the perusal of Punch and Vanity Fair, and, if repeated, deprived of his Joseph Miller.

Among these are the following:

Allusions to Attic salt, when asked to pass the salt-cellar.

Remarks on the Inmates being mustered, etc., etc.

Personal allusions in connection with carrots and turnips.

Attempts upon the word tomato, etc., etc.

The following are also prohibited, excepting to such Inmates as may have lost their faculties, and cannot any longer make Puns of their own:

your own hair or a wig;" "it will be long enough, etc., little of its age," etc., etc.; also playing upon the follow

etc.

ing words: hospital, mayor, pun, pitied, bread, sauce, sole, etc., etc., See INDEX EXPURGATORIUS, printed for use of Inmates. The Superintendent, who went round with us, had been a noted punster in his time, and well known in the business world, but lost his customers by making too free with their names-as in the famous story he set afloat in '29, of forgeries attaching to the names of a noted Judge, an eminent lawyer, the Secretary of the Board of Foreign Missions, and the well-known Landlord at Springfield. One of the four Jerries, he added, was of gigantic magnitude.

The Superintendent showed some of his old tendencies as he went round with us.

"Do you know "-he broke out all at once-"why they don't take steppes in Tartary for establishing Insane Hospitals?" We both confessed ignorance.

"Because there are nomad people to be found there," he said, with a dignified smile.

He proceeded to introduce us to different Inmates. The first was a middle-aged, scholarly man, who was seated at a table with a Webster's Dictionary and a sheet of paper before him.

"Well, what luck to-day, Mr. Mowzer ?" said the Superintendent.

He turned to his notes and read:

"Don't you see Webster ers in the words center and theater? "If he spells leather lether, and feather fether, isn't there danger that he'll give us a bad spell of weather?

Besides, Webster is a resurrectionist; he does not allow u to rest quietly in the mould.

"And again, because Mr. Worcester inserts an illustration in his text, is that any reason why Mr. Webster's publishers should hitch one on in their appendix? It's what I call a Connect-a-cut trick.

"Why is his way of spelling like the floor of an oven? Because it is under bread."

"Mowzer!" said the Superintendent "that word is on the Index!"

"I forgot," said Mr. Mowzer-"please don't deprive me of Vanity Fair, this one time, Sir."

Good day, Gentlemen. Then

"These are all, this morning. to the Superintendent-Add you, Sir!"

The next Inmate was a semi-idiotic-looking old man. He had a heap of block-letters before him, and, as we came up, he pointed, without saying a word, to the arrangements he had made with them on the table. They were evidently anagrams, and had the merit of transposing the letters of the words employed without addition or subtraction. Here are a few of them:

The mention of several New York papers led to two or three

dent.

PUNS WITH BLOCKS.

questions. Thus: Whether the Editor of the Tribune was H. G. really? If the complexion of his politics were not accounted for by his being an

eager person himself? Whether Wendell Fillips were not a re

duced copy of

John Knocks?

Whether a New York Feuilletoniste is not the same thing as a Fellow down East?

At this time a plausiblelooking, bald-headed man joined us, evidently waiting to take a part in the conversation.

"Good morning, Mr. Riggles," said the Superinten

"Anything fresh this morning? Any Conundrum?" "Nothing of any account," he answered. "We had hastypudding yesterday."

"What has that got to do with conundrums?" asked the Superintendent.