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Updated: May 15, 2025
Soldier standing erect on the left says "Go on Take That Stuff Back to Where You Got it I Wouldn't Trade a Log Hut on a Swamp in America for the Whole of Europe!" Orator standing crouched on soapbox on the right. Orator is holding a paper saying "Down with America! It's all wrong!"
Terrible by day and ever watchful by night. The King of Kings, the Great Majesty and secret symbol of the absolute. Tobias drinks in the jargon of the soapbox man and then shouts: "I'll join, I'll join! I want a strong God!" So now Tobias Wooden-Leg is a sun-worshipper. The boys in the Elite poolroom will tell you all about it.
The naturalists of antiquity made a special study of them, and these animals furnished many ribald figures of speech for soapbox orators in the Greek marketplace, as well as excellent dishes for the tables of rich citizens, if we're to believe Athenaeus, a Greek physician predating Galen.
Nor could she tell how the struggle was going. Indeed until the idea came that they might be trampling Johnny Two-Hawks there was no coherent thought in her head, only broken things. She ran to the soapbox and kicked it aside. She saw Hawksley on his face, motionless. At least they should not trample his dead body.
And though one finds in the words of the naïve Ingersoll the squeaking timber of the soapbox, yet even a soapbox does lift a man a few inches above the level of the clay. Well, the Whitman battle is not over yet, nor ever will be.
And since I knew almost nothing at all of medicine, and therefore could say anything I chose without feeling guilty like the fellow on a soapbox who harangues a crowd on politics I told him he must have the boils lanced there and then, or otherwise the poison might get to them and inflame them beyond all hope.
Once every two or three months for ten years Tobias has come like this with his head lowered searching for a new and powerful God that would keep him pious and that would kill the devil that seemed never to die inside his old Norske soul. So he had taken them all a jumble of gods, a patchwork of religions. Every soapbox apostle in the district had at one time converted him.
A soapbox on a plank between two pairs of wheels being produced and the box made comfortable with a quilt and a pillow belonging to Mammy June, Mun Bun was laid, still fast asleep, in this vehicle, and Russ started to drag his little brother home. "Yo' 'Lias!" exclaimed Mammy June, from the doorway of her cabin, "whar's yo' manners? Don't you let that w'ite visitor boy drag that boxwagon.
He was, in fact, one of those upon whom the equilibrium of the social system rests. He was unfortunate, oppressed and acquiescent. Arriving early in the forenoon he set up his shop, lighted his fire and took his place on the soapbox. When the lights began to wink out along this highway of evil ghosts Mottka was still to be seen hunched over his chestnut roaster and waiting.
A horrible looking fellow, with a tortured face, he waved a pistol in front of me, ranting phrases reminiscent of oldfashioned soapbox oratory. I am not ashamed to admit nervousness, for this is not the first time my life has been threatened since attaining prominence. Happily, the madman's aim was as wild as his speech, and though he fired four shots, all lodged in the plaster.
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