The full text of "Confessions of a Humorist"... urgently needed!!

A painless incubation period lasted for twenty-five years, and then suddenly it came on, and people said I had it.

But instead of calling it measles, they call it humor.

Colleagues in the company pooled their resources to buy a silver ink stand to congratulate the manager on his fiftieth birthday. We crowded into his private office to present it to him.

I was selected as the spokesperson and delivered a short congratulatory message that I had prepared for a week.

The remark was so successful, full of aphorisms, puns, and ridiculous far-fetchedness, that it nearly knocked the company over with laughter—which was pretty well off in the hardware wholesale business. Old Marlowe actually grinned, and his colleagues immediately followed suit and burst into laughter.

My reputation as a humorist began at half past nine that morning.

For weeks afterward, colleagues fanned the flames of complacency in me. They came up to me one by one and told me what a witty thing I said, man, and explained every witty point in it.

I gradually realized that they expected me to continue. Others can talk seriously about business and the important events of the day, but I ask for some funny and light-hearted words.

People expect me to make fun of porcelain and make the digs lighter on enameled iron. I'm an accountant, and if I pull out a balance sheet without making some funny comment about the totals, or find something funny on a hoe's invoice, my other colleagues get upset with me. disappointment.

My reputation gradually spread and I became a local "celebrity". Our town is small, which makes this possible. I was often quoted in the daily newspapers of the time. I am indispensable at social gatherings.

I believe that I am indeed a bit clever and adaptable. I intentionally cultivate this gift and develop it through practice. The nature of my jokes is kind and friendly, never sarcastic or making others angry. People always smile when they see me, and by the time I get closer, I've probably already thought of a wisecrack to turn their smile into a laugh.

I got married relatively young. We have a lovely three-year-old boy and a five-year-old daughter. Of course, we live happily in a small house with vines on the walls. My salary as an accountant in a hardware company wasn't very generous, but it allowed me to keep away the bad guys who were chasing after excess wealth.

I occasionally write jokes and random musings that I think are particularly funny and send them to publications that publish such works. They were all adopted immediately. Several editors also wrote to encourage me to continue submitting manuscripts.

One day, the editor of a well-known weekly magazine sent me a letter. He suggested that I write a humorous article to fill a column position; he also hinted that if the effect was satisfactory, he would prepare it for every issue. Everyone has a column. I did. Two weeks later, he offered to sign a contract with me, and the pay was much higher than my salary from the hardware company.

I am very happy. My wife has crowned me in her mind with an immortal crown of literary achievement. For dinner that night, we had shrimp fritters and a bottle of blackberry wine. This was my chance to escape the monotony of my job. I studied the matter with Louisa very carefully. We all agreed that we should resign from our positions in the company. Specializing in humor.

I resigned. My colleagues gave me a farewell banquet. My speech at the banquet was wonderful. The full text of the newspaper was published. The next morning, I woke up and looked at the clock.

"Oh, it's too late!" I shouted and went to grab my clothes. Luisa reminded me that now I am no longer a slave to hardware and manufacturing materials, but a professional humorist.

After breakfast, she proudly took me to a small room next to the kitchen. Lovely woman! My table, chairs, manuscript paper, ink, and ashtray are all set up. There's also the full writer's accoutrement - a vase filled with fresh roses and honeysuckle, last year's calendar on the wall, a dictionary, and a small bag of chocolates to munch on in between moments of inspiration. Lovely woman!

I sit down to work. The wallpaper was patterned with arabesques, or the sultan's odalisque, or—perhaps a quadrilateral.

My eyes were fixed on one of the patterns. I thought about humor.

A voice woke me up - Luisa's voice.

"If you are not too busy, dear." The voice said, "Come and eat."

I looked at my watch. Alas, Father Time has taken back five hours. I went to eat.

“You shouldn’t work too hard at the beginning.” Louisa said: “Goethe—or Napoleon? Once said that five hours of mental work a day is enough. Can you take some time this afternoon? I went to play in the woods with my kids?"

"I'm definitely a little tired," I admitted. So we went to the woods.

After a while, I was going well. Within a month, my products were as steady as hardware. I'm still very successful. My weekly column attracted attention, and critics whispered that I was a new kid on the humor scene. I contributed articles to other publications, which greatly increased my income.

I found the secret to this business. I can take an interesting idea, write it into a two-line joke, and earn a dollar. With a slight change of appearance, it can be stretched into four rows to double the output value. If you flip through the line, add a little rhyme decoration and a beautiful illustration, it becomes a witty satire, and you have no way of recognizing its true colors.