Kitabı oku: «The Art of Amusing», sayfa 5
But how were these extraordinary faces produced? First, we will refer our readers to the diagram, which will explain a good deal, and then throw what light we can on the subject with words.
The face of the Colonel was made by painting an entire set of features on the forehead with India-ink. The white of the eyes in both cases was effected by wetting the finger and rubbing it on an enamelled visiting-card; by this means you take a good deal of the white from the card which can be transferred to the proper place on the forehead. In the case of the Colonel, if the performer moves his eyebrows up and down as he is speaking, it will communicate a motion to the pointed moustaches, and a most comical expression to the entire face.
To make the second face, you must, if possible, get some one with very light eyebrows and no moustaches; then paint eyes and eyebrows on the forehead, which must be done artistically, shadows and all, and connect them, as represented, with the bridge of the nose, paint heavy black moustaches, and your performer will have the appearance of possessing an immensely long face; he must, however, keep his eyes shut, or the illusion will be dispelled.
After this performance, the scene, as painted on our memory, resolves itself into blue eyes, pink ribbons, bunchy skirts, oranges, candies, lemonades, wax-lights, Christmas-trees, Aunty Delluvian, and endless smiling faces.
May all good people have as foolish, merry a Christmas as we had at Aunty Delluvian's!
CHAPTER XII
Hanky-panky is the name of a certain art practised by pantomimists of the clown and harlequin school, and is the subject of no little study and practice. We do not think it within our power to define hanky-panky, composed as it is of fictitious whackings and kickings and smackings, unless, indeed, that be a definition. We can, however, give a couple of illustrations of the art as it may be practised in the family circle. We may look further into the matter at some future day, and possibly issue a volume of Parlor hanky-panky, beautifully illustrated by the author.
The first example we shall now give is how to knock your knuckles on the edge of a marble mantel-piece or other hard substance without hurting them. It is done thus: You raise your clenched fist high in the air, hold it poised there some seconds for all the audience to see, and then bring it swiftly down; but just before your hand reaches the object, open your fingers quickly, so they will strike the object with a sharp slap, then close them quickly; if this is neatly done, it will appear as if you had struck your knuckles a violent blow. This will make the ladies scream, and every one else thrill of horror.
The second feat of hanky-panky consists in knocking your head against the edge of a door with such apparent force as to break your skull, provided it be anything under an inch thick.
This you do by holding your hand which is farthest from the audience on a level with your face, as represented in the annexed picture. At the moment your forehead touches the edge you must give the side of the door a good smart bang with the palm of your hand. To the audience on the other side of the door, who do not see this motion of the hand, you appear to have given your poor head a terrific blow.
Another piece of hanky-panky frequently practised on the stage requires two performers. No. 1 aims a blow at the head of No. 2; No. 2, just as the blow reaches him, raises both hands as though to guard the blow, managing, however, as he does so to slap them smartly together so as to produce a loud report. If the blow and the report occur simultaneously, No. 1 will appear to have given No. 2 a most vicious box on the ear.
This is all we have to say about hanky-panky.
CHAPTER XIII
Being in a tranquil mood the other evening, and indisposed for the rollicking fun and tomfoolery in which, we are glad to say, we have so often indulged, we called upon our friend Nix to pass a quiet hour or two. When we had explained the object of our visit, Nix replied that it was well, for although he could not entertain us himself in the character of host, he could introduce us to a family to whom he happened to be engaged himself that evening.
"They are," said he, "the most charming people in the world – all ladies, excepting a little pickle of a boy, a child after your own heart, by the way; not one of your impulsive, high-spirited humbugs, who does all sorts of vicious things for twelve hours, and is sorry for them for five minutes; not one of your easy penitents, who is never ashamed of owning himself in the wrong, and at the same time never too proud to do wrong; but a stubborn, sensitive, ingenuous, affectionate, fun-loving little fellow. Do you know I like people who, when they are mad, get sulky? I have found they make the best of friends, the best servants, and the best members of society generally. I wonder who started the admiration of impulsive people? 'Oh!' you hear a young lady say, who never really gave the subject five minutes' thought in her life, and is quite unconscious that she is repeating a hackneyed sentiment which has been knocking about the world for the last fifty years; 'oh!' you hear her say, 'I like quick-tempered people, who get into a passion and are over it in a minute.' Then you hear some one else: 'Oh, yes, he does wrong, but he is full of fine impulses!' For my part, I think these impulsive folks are the greatest humbugs in the world. In the first place, there is scarcely any villany which cannot be perpetrated in a moment, if you have only the necessary impulse; but then, to look into the origin of this impulsiveness, it arises altogether from a lack of self-control, a violent, self-indulgent spirit. Then, as to ready repentance and confession, that, to my mind, is the worst sign man, woman, or child can show; it simply shows they do not fully appreciate the seriousness of their offence, or are so devoid of pride that they do not care in what estimation they are held by others; or, as is often the case, it is a cheap way of squaring accounts and starting afresh, perhaps on better terms than before, with people who like impulsive characters. Bah! Confession and repentance ought to come out of a man with tears of blood, and – "
"But about the ladies?" we broke in. "Your dissertation on character is very good, but I think you made use of the adjective charming in connection with the noun ladies."
"Oh, yes," answered Nix, suddenly changing his manner, for he had grown quite fierce and enthusiastic in his tirade against impulsive persons. "The ladies – 'that man who would lay his hand on a lady in aught save kindness, is unworthy the name of a British officer and a gentleman.'
"'A wife, a dog, and a walnut-tree,
The more you lick 'em, the better they be.'
"Arguments pro and con. But you said something about the ladies. Well, this family comprises a widow, three daughters, and little pickle aforementioned. These ladies, I may tell you, are not only ladies, but gentlewomen – a very, very rare article, I can assure you."
"True," we responded; "painfully true."
"These ladies have found out – no, there I am wrong; they never gave the subject a thought. But they are illustrations of the fact, though they are ignorant of it, for their good-breeding came to them partly by nature and partly by careful, motherly, Christian training. They are illustrations of the fact, that to be gentlewomen it is necessary to be gentle women."
"Women do not appear to be generally aware of that fact," we chimed in.
"These ladies, although full of intelligence and esprit, besides being highly educated and accomplished, could not, I believe, give a smart retort to – to – to save their eyes; and when you see their eyes you will be able to judge of the value of the stake. If any one were to make a rude or impertinent speech to them they would not understand him. As they never wound the feelings of others, they cannot imagine any one else doing so."
"But," said we, "there are certain forms of words which no one could possibly mistake – not even the simplest of human beings."
"Oh, of course, I don't refer to such cases as those! Under such circumstances, my friends would feel deeply grieved, and even rebuke the offender. But as to making one of those sharp retorts in which underbred young women so greatly delight, why, they could no more do it than fly!"
Fortunately, at this point in Nix's harangue, we reached the door of the ladies under discussion; for be it understood that most of our conversation had occurred on our way thither.
We doubt whether it is a good plan to praise one's friends too highly before an introduction; it is calculated to produce a reaction. At least, we felt just the least shade of disappointment on being ushered into the presence of the subject of our companion's eulogy. Four plainly-dressed, oval-faced, soft-eyed ladies, seated round a large centre-table, on which were strewn water-colors, albums, scissors, and scraps of paper.
"Mr. Nix has told us all so much about you," said the eldest, "that I feel as though we were old friends. My daughters are now enthusiastic on the subject of transparencies, and I've no doubt your ingenuity will enable them to solve many knotty points beyond their amateur capacity."
We soon found, however, that we were the one to learn, for the work on which the white fingers were engaged was something entirely new to us. There were beautiful transparencies, mostly representing landscapes, and cut out of writing-paper. We immediately became a devoted student of the art of transparent picture-making, with a single eye, of course, to the amusement of our readers. The soft, brown eyes, the taper fingers, and the gentle manners, had nothings to do with our assiduity, upon which we pledge our sacred honor, as a Calmuc Tartar.
We will now proceed to explain, if those white fingers do not get in the way, how these pictures are produced; and first, according to our custom, we refer the reader to the annexed diagram (No. 1) – a diagram is a good basis to start upon. Before you look at the diagram, it would be well to collect the necessary materials, which are as follows:
Several sheets of writing-paper.
One piece, say four inches square, of thick paper or card.
A pair of small fine-pointed scissors.
A sharp-pointed penknife.
A small piece of charcoal. Burnt grape-vine or cedar makes the best.
A piece of transparent tracing-paper. A black lead-pencil.
Pen and ink.
A thick pasteboard, or thin pine board, about the thickness of an ordinary book-cover, and at least two inches longer and wider than the picture you are about to make. A sheet of glass will answer as well, perhaps better.
A small quantity of thin, fine paste, free from lumps, made of flour and water boiled. Mind that it is boiled and free from lumps.
Now see the diagram No. 1. This is the picture you wish to produce in the transparency. Take your tracing-paper, and with a pen and ink make an outline of this picture, having done which, rub the charcoal over the back of the tracing, then lay the tracing-paper on a sheet of letter-paper, take your lead-pencil in your hand; now, every mark you make on the tracing-paper with the pencil will leave a corresponding charcoal mark on the paper beneath it. Bearing this in mind, you will draw your pencil carefully round the outline of the moon, the window of the old castle, and the bright light in the water. Now carefully remove the tracing-paper, and you will find the forms of these objects faintly marked in charcoal lines on the writing-paper. Now, with the fine point (it must have a fine point) of your lead-pencil, travel over the charcoal lines, so as to make them distinct and permanent. You do so because the charcoal easily brushes off. You will then proceed to brush off the charcoal with a soft rag as soon as you have made your pencil outline. You will now, with the scissors or penknife, whichever is most convenient for the purpose, cut out the parts you have traced – that is to say, a round hole for the moon, a small square patch for the castle window, and a few irregular slits for the water. Then you will have a piece of paper like diagram No. 2 (page 152).
There now, we think we managed to keep the white fingers out of that pretty well, though it was pretty hard work, rest assured. So far so good. Now you want to cut a piece of paper, which shall be your second tint, to represent the clouds and water. To this end you again lay your outline tracing on the white paper, and trace the shape of the clouds, the castle window, and the lights on the water, which will give you a form similar to that represented in diagram No. 3 (page 153). This you will cut out as before.
Now you wish for a tint to represent the distant mountains and the reflection of the old castle; therefore, trace and cut out as before directed a piece of paper corresponding with the outlines of these forms, which piece will correspond exactly with diagram No. 4 (page 154). Now you will cut out a piece of paper to represent the nearer mountains and the castle, which will correspond with diagram No. 5 (page 155). After which you will cut a piece to represent the castle alone; and lastly, you cut out of your card the form of the fir-tree and old railing in the foreground, and the chief part of your labor is done.
Again we must congratulate ourself on keeping those little fingers out of our description, though they have been playing about like white mice among our ideas all the time. We only trust we have made the process clear to our readers.
We will now presume you wish to mount your transparency on a sheet of glass. First take the piece of white paper corresponding with diagram No. 2, and cover it with a thin coat of paste, being careful that it is free from lumps, and lay it on the glass, pressing it evenly all over with a soft handkerchief. Over this, in its proper place, paste No. 3, over that No. 4, and so on, one over the other, till they are all on. You can now hold it up to the light to see if the reflected lights in the water are correct; if not, wait till the transparency is dry, and brighten them up by cutting the necessary pieces out with the sharp point of a penknife. All that needs doing now is to paste over all a thin sheet of white paper. This need only be pasted round the edges just enough to make it keep its place. To give the picture a finish, it should either be put in a frame or have a border of gilt paper or other untranslucent material pasted round it to conceal the ragged edges of the picture. Now your picture is complete. Hold it once more up to the light, and you will be surprised what a beautiful effect is produced.
If the transparency be not to be mounted in glass, the process is as follows: Cut a square hole, a trifle smaller than the picture, in the board you have provided; cut a piece of white paper of the same shape as the hole, only about one inch larger each way; moisten it slightly with a wet rag, then put some paste all round the edges of the paper, and paste it over the square hole in the board; keep the paper slightly moistened till the paste has thoroughly dried; then you can allow the paper to dry, when it will become smooth and tight like the head of a drum. On this you can paste the transparency in the same way you did on the glass.
Our young lady friends had a number of wonderful things produced in this way, into some of which they had introduced color with remarkable effect. In the design we have given as an example, being one of the simplest in their collection, the light in the castle window was red, and threw long rays of red light across the rocks, with a red reflection in the water. This was easily done with a little water-color (crimson lake); but we refrained from introducing it into our description, for fear of complicating the matter and puzzling the reader. However, when you have made the one we have described, you will soon see a number of other effects which can be produced – sunsets with a moving sun, rain-storms, floating clouds; skies and water painted blue, and trees green, etc., etc.
Little Pickle did not take any active part in the transparency business, though he looked on admiringly, occasionally throwing in a few words of applause or advice, something in this style:
"Oh! I say, Lucy, couldn't you put a cow in there; it would look fust-rate. I can draw a cow, all but the feet, and you can hide them behind the rocks, you know."
Or:
"Yes – ah – yes – that snow is pretty good, only that feller has only got one runner to his sled!"
It is strange that boys will always say feller and fust-rate.
Little Pickle was not, however, idle in his way. While we were studying white fingers, brown eyes, and transparencies, he had cut out a sled, a wheel-barrow, and manufactured a dancing-pea. The latter he made by running a pin half way through a pea, one end of which he stuck into a broken piece of tobacco-pipe. He then threw his head back till the tobacco-pipe attained a perpendicular position, when he commenced blowing, which made the pea dance in the air in the most amusing manner for nearly a minute. The mode of arranging the pea, as well as of using it, is illustrated in the accompanying sketch.
He likewise horrified us all by suddenly appearing with a hideous double row of protruding yellow teeth, which he coolly dropped into the palm of his hand, when he thought our feelings had been sufficiently outraged.
"They are only made of orange-peel," he explained. "You just cut a slit there, and notch them along like that, and then put them into your mouth."
Now, in order to convey to your mind, dear reader, the method of constructing this ornament, shall we tell you to cut an elliptical piece of orange, and then make a longitudinal incision here, with transverse incisions there, etc., etc.? No, we will not; we will fall back to our old friend the diagram, and if you cannot make yourself a set of false teeth after that, then remain in heathen darkness on all matters of dentistry, as you deserve. Cut a piece of orange-peel in the shape represented, and at the foot of the preceding diagram you will see how they look when you put them on.
CHAPTER XIV
A friend of ours, who is an ardent admirer of that great humorist of the plains, Artemus Ward, has recently been edifying a large circle of private friends with imitations of the celebrated showman. He has had a wig and false nose made expressly for this entertainment, by the aid of which adjuncts he succeeds in establishing quite a respectable resemblance to the grand original, as may be seen by his portrait, which we have taken the trouble to get engraved.
Most of the jokes are those of Artemus repeated from memory. The more sober ones, we fancy, are original. The lecture runs thus:
"Ladies and Gentlemen: – Having recently paid a visit to Salt Lake City, the great Mormon capital, I think a short lecture on the subject may prove instructive as well as amusing. Although I appear before you with the cap and bells, I would have you understand that when I speak of matters of fact I shall confine myself strictly to the truth. You may, therefore, rely upon all I shall tell you concerning the Mormons as being strictly true.
"When on the dock preparatory to start on my voyage, I found myself surrounded by a large concourse of people, who seemed perfectly willing that I should go. 'Go along,' they said, 'old feller, and stay as long as you please.' I would like you to take a good look at the noble vessel in which I sailed (pointing to a crude delineation of a steamship), because, if you ever go to California, travel by some other boat.
"When we were fairly out at sea, I observed that many of the passengers ran frequently to look over the side of the vessel – to see if there were any dolphins alongside, I presume. One young couple sitting near me, newly married and very haggard, talked earnestly together. I could not avoid hearing a part of their conversation.
"'Oh, Julia,' said the gentleman, 'you are very noble; you have thrown up society, friends, everything for me.'
"'Do not say a word, Alfred,' replied the young lady; 'you have thrown up more than I have.'
"It was very touching, for they certainly threw up a great deal between them.
"In San Francisco I delivered an oration. It was not, perhaps, equal to Cicero's, but still I think – I don't know – but I think if old Cis had heard it he would have been astonished. I delivered an oration to the soldiers once. They were much delighted – very much delighted indeed – so delighted, in fact, that they come dooced near shooting me.
"The hotels on the road to Salt Lake City are, as a rule, inferior to our leading ones in New York. At one of them they gave me a sack of oats for a pillow. That night I had nightmares. I suppose they were attracted by the oats. The next morning the landlord asked me how I was, old hoss! I replied that I felt my oats!
"After travelling several days, more or less, we reached Utah, and put up at this hotel (here a rude picture is produced). It is a temperance hotel. The only objection I have to temperance hotels is that – that – they keep such dooced poor licker. In the front of the hotel may be seen the coach in which we had been confined for the last eight days. Those among my audience who have served a term in the State prison will understand our feeling when we escaped from that vehicle.
"Utah is a beautiful city, laid out in broad streets, with avenues of fine trees. Brigham Young is the big injun of the place, next to whom comes Heber Kimball. Brigham has the largest number of wives – two hundred in all. He says his only hope now is to have his dying pillow smoothed by the hands of his family. Under the circumstances, it strikes me he'd have to go out of doors to die if he wishes to accomplish it.
"The number of his children is unknown, though, if you multiply two hundred wives by fifteen, you will get a rough estimate. We mentioned this to Briggy, and he seemed to think it rather rough. Perhaps so. Brig is very exact in his calculations; he knows to a ton of beef what is consumed in his household daily. As an illustration of his exceeding accuracy in little matters, we may mention a fact. On one occasion one of his wives was missing. Five weeks had not elapsed before Brigham had discovered the fact. Those of my audience who have mothers-in-law will appreciate the advantage of two hundred wives. There must be a good deal of mother-in-law to that number; an amount highly calculated to keep things lively. Possibly Brigham is fond of excitement.
"On one occasion Briggy took a fancy to a certain young lady, and proposed for her hand. She replied that she could not accept his offer unless he also married her elder sister. To this he readily assented – went to her – the proposition was made – the sister said she should be obliged to decline unless he married her mother also. After some deliberation he proposed to the mother, but she refused unless he would also propose to her old grandmother. Finally he married the whole crowd.
"Of course Brigham cannot attend personally to the amount of courting necessary – that is to say, in our old-fashioned style. No, he has his form of love done up in pamphlet form, which he sends to any lady to whom he wishes to be united. This saves trouble.
"Though the Mormons generally are a very steady people, they still have loose fish among them. On one occasion a gay Mormon Lothario gained access to a young ladies' seminary. In the morning it was found he had eloped with the entire establishment.
"I, even I did not escape without some difficulty. Just before my departure, a worthy gentleman in the pickle business died, leaving fourteen wives. They sent for me. When I called I found them all in tears.
"'Why is this thus?' I inquired.
"'Art going?' inquired they.
"'I ist,' I replied.
"'Oh, why! oh, why goest thou?'
"'Because when I gettest ready to doest a thing, I generally doest it,' replied I.
"'Wilt marry us?' said they.
"'I rather think not,' I replied.
"'Oh, this is too much!' cried they.
"'That's where it is,' rejoined myself. 'It's precisely on account of its being too much that I object to it.'
"My lectures were very popular at Salt Lake, and always well attended. On one occasion I incautiously gave a family ticket to a certain Elder. That night my house was crowded to overflowing. It was entirely filled with the Elder's family. There was not room for a single paying visitor to come in. The next day they called to say they were very much pleased, and gave me their photograph in a very pretty pocket-case, something like a wallet. Subsequently it was taken out of my pocket by a young man on Broadway, but I detected him in the act and seized him by the collar. He at once acknowledged the deed, but said he did it in the name of the Confederate government in retaliation for outrages committed by our troops in the Shenandoah Valley."
Here the lecture ended. It generally received nearly as much applause as that of the great original, for my friend had studied Ward's peculiar manner and quaint enunciation till he had got it to a nicety.
