ish. We raise corn enough to live on in summer. We kill bear's meat
enough to carbonize it in winter. I work on steadily on my _Traces of
Sandemanianism in the Sixth and Seventh Centuries_, which I hope to
persuade Phillips, Sampson & Co. to publish next year. We are very
happy, but the world thinks we are undone.

A VISIT TO THE ASYLUM FOR AGED AND DECAYED PUNSTERS

By Oliver Wendell Holmes (1809-1894)

[From _The Atlantic Monthly_, January, 1861. Republished in _Soundings
from the Atlantic_ (1864), by Oliver Wendell Holmes, whose authorized
publishers are the Houghton Mifflin Company.]

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 public 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 way 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
ch