PADUTCH-LIFE-L Archives

From: "Vee L. Housman" <>
Subject: 46-At the Noggeration Ball
Date: Thu, 10 Sep 1998 12:04:16 -0400

AT THE NOGGERATION BALL

You probably don't remember that old horse who died on the
sixteenth of November 1888. It was I who said that the official
vultures would tear him up even before he was dead. If you had
joined me at the inauguration in Washington, you would have
understood how many vultures live in these United States.

Washington swarmed with office seekers like flies swarmed
over my dead mule. Polly was with me. It was the first time that
she got to see “America,” and she enjoyed it very much. Since I
was a candidate for the Rabbit Mountain Post Office, I headed
straight into the White House. Harrison was nailing down a carpet
in one of the rooms as I walked up to him with my hand stretched
out.

"How's it going Benj?" I said.

"Who are you?" he asked.

This made me angry, and I said, "What kind of talk is this? I
voted for you, and after you had it in the ballot box, you claim not
to know me." Then I stretched myself to my full height and said,
"I'm Boonastiel from Rabbit Mountain." The strain tore off a
suspender button, and I reached behind to grab it. Harrison
thought I was reaching for a pistol, and a blue-suited bodyguard
with a yellow tie led me outside. If Billy Bixler had been along we
would have made a fuss, but I and Polly were tired, and she can't do
much except with her mouth. I still don't believe that it was really
Benj himself. If I were sure, I'd cook his goose if he ever tried to
run for president again.

In the evening we attended the Noggeration Ball, and I saw
things that I never thought I'd see in my whole life. I've seen well
built women before but never with such necklines. My goodness,
but it was a disgrace with their low-neck gowns. If any hungry
babies could have been present that night I imagine they'd all be
crying for milk. I told one lady that if she had no dress to wear
Polly didn't want to dance and would lend hers, but then her man
came and wanted to fight with me. "Yaw,” I said. "Lay one on
Boonastiel, and I'll break you apart to see what you're made of." I
was just ready to bury the whole damn administration.

The music was furnished by Sammy Roush and his Flying
Horse orchestra. Quay and John Wannamaker played, and Dan
Hastings beat the bass drum. Our jury commissioner called the
square dance, and it made me real homesick to hear him over all the
crowd, "Salute your p-pa-pa-ardner. Balance all. Swing your
p-pa-pardner. Damit! Look out o-o-over there and d-d-don’t mix
up so." The men wore “neckrubber” coats just like mine, but theirs
weren't so antique. My grandfather wore mine at General Jackson's
Noggeration. They drank cider which cost five dollars a bottle. It
was called “Champaginy water.” At first the “Sham” gets to your
head, and the “pain” comes after you sober up.

I really enjoyed the Noggeration. Washington is a big town,
but for peaceful living and righteous dying, give me and Polly our
poor old shanty in Rabbit Mountain.

* * *

Note: This collection of Boonastiel stories was written by H. A.
Harter in the original Penna-Dutch dialect and were published in the
Keystone Gazette, Bellefonte, PA, between 1894 and 1904. They
were translated and transcribed by Bob James of Alaska and they
are being posted to this PADUTCH-LIFE mailing list with his
permission.

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• 46-At the Noggeration Ball by "Vee L. Housman" <>