Kitabı oku: «The Art of Amusing», sayfa 8
CHAPTER XVIII
We shall now amuse the fireside with a little song, or rather we will try to tell our friends how to gladden their own chimney-corners with the songs of birds through the long winter evenings. It will be pleasant when the wind is howling without among the snow-laden limbs of the trees, to be reminded of the gay summer by the counterfeit notes of the woodland songsters. Still, we must warn our readers, that to acquire the art thoroughly needs patience and perseverance; we can but tell them how to make and use the instrument, and the rest they must learn for themselves. First look at the annexed diagram, and then procure a leek and cut off from the green leaf thereof a piece about the size of the diagram; then lay it on a smooth table, and with the thumb-nail delicately scrape away a semicircular patch of the green pulpy substance of the leaf (as represented in the diagram), being careful to leave the fine membrane or outer skin of the leaf uninjured – and there is the instrument complete. It may require several experiments to make the first one, but once having discovered the right way, they are very easily manufactured. The reader may not be aware of the fact that the leaf of the leek has a fine transparent outer skin which is quite tough, but by breaking and carefully examining one or two leaves, he will soon find out to what we allude.
The way of using this instrument is to place it in the roof of the mouth with the side on which is the membrane downwards; then press it gently in its place with the tongue, and blow between the tongue and the upper teeth. After the first two or three attempts, you will be able to produce a slight sound like a mild grunt; then as you practise it you will find that you can prolong and vary the sound somewhat, so that in the course of a couple of days you can imitate the barking of a dog and the neighing of a horse. With two or three weeks' practice, you will be able to imitate some of the song-birds; but to produce exact counterfeits of the best singing-birds will probably require months of study; the result, however, will reward you for all your pains; for certainly to be able to carry a mocking-bird, canary, thrush, cat-bird, and sucking-pig in your vest-pocket is no small accomplishment.
When not using the instrument, it should be kept in a glass of water to prevent its drying.
CHAPTER XIX
Those tranquil moods of which we have twice spoken come over us with still increasing frequency. Little Pickle is certainly a very smart boy. We are giving him lessons in drawing; he comes on rapidly, but requires a great deal of attention. Our time passes peaceably enough in study and contemplation. Nix has procured us some more works of Brahminical lore. It is a curious religion, that of the Hindoos, resembling in many points Christianity. Nix declares, in his good-natured way, that we are more than half converted already, and threatens to send a missionary to reason us back from heathenism, as we need a minister badly. He is an exceedingly good-natured fellow is Nix, though a little broad, perhaps, at times, in his style of jocularity. Our readers are probably not aware that there is a certain form of vulgar humor known as a sell, which consists in inducing some person to ask you a question, and then giving some idiotic answer in reply. The other day Nix overtook us in Broadway. After talking a few minutes he exclaimed:
"Oh, by the way, I have a note for you," at the same time feeling vigorously in his pockets.
"When did you get it? Who is it from?" we inquired, with some earnestness, for we were expecting a letter from some one.
"Don't know – don't know," he replied, continuing to fumble in his pockets. "Ah, here it is."
At the same time grasping one hand, he placed in it an oat – one seed of the grain upon which horses and Scotchmen are fed.
Nix laughed boisterously, and told us we were sold. We don't see very much fun in it.
We have spent another pleasant evening at the Adams'. We mentioned in a recent chapter making some preparations for a little party they were about to give. Well, it went off very pleasantly indeed; there were no hitches and no awful pauses. Indeed, our own pleasure would have been unalloyed had it not been for the presence of one officious person with large whiskers, who (there are always one or more such persons in every assembly) obtruded his attentions too much on the ladies; we observed that Bud, amongst others, was quite embarrassed by them. She was too well bred, however, to allow him to perceive her vexations, though I must say I think there is is such a thing as carrying complaisance and self-abnegation too far.
The scientific gentleman with gold spectacles was there, and had an electrical novelty for us which attracted much attention. At first we supposed the gentleman named was giving Little Pickle lessons in skating, for he was directing that youth's movements as he shuffled up and down the hearth-rug in his slippered feet. Rather jealous for the credit of our pupil, we informed the spectacles that there was nothing in the way of skating he could teach Master Pickle, he being already a proficient in that art. To which he only replied:
"Put your knuckle to his nose."
Rather staggered by this request, which savored somewhat of the ruder style of badinage, and the very last thing we expected from the decorous gentleman of science, we replied, with just a shade of hauteur:
"Sir?"
"Put your knuckle to his nose."
"Really, I do not comprehend you."
"Put your finger to his nose and you will get a shock."
All this time Little Pickle was sliding and slithering up and down the rug in a manner highly calculated to wear out that costly piece of furniture.
"You perceive," continued spectacles, in an explanatory way, "that he has slippers on his feet. By keeping his feet in close contact with the rug, and rubbing them violently up and down, he generates electricity in his body to such an extent that he can transmit quite a sensible shock to another person.2 Now try!"
We tried. Tick! A most unmistakable spark passed from the nose of L. P. to our knuckle.
The guests now began to crowd round, applying their knuckles to the poor boy's nose to that extent that it grew quite red, which, combined with a trifling unsteadiness his legs acquired from the unusual exertion, gave the dear boy quite a groggy appearance. Indeed, we observed his mother soon after draw him towards her and, stooping down, whisper something in his ear, at which he colored up, shook his head, and replied quickly, "No, only lemonade."
The scientific person, who was really a very amiable gentleman after all, taught us during the evening to make quite a curious little toy – to wit, a miniature camera. Having enlisted the services of Little Pickle, he procured a small pill-box, a minute fragment about half an inch square of broken looking-glass, and a fragment of beeswax. He first bored a small hole in the centre of the lid of the pill-box and another in the side; he then, with the aid of the beeswax, stuck the piece of the mirror across the bottom of the box at an angle of forty-five degrees to the axis of the disc of the box, so that by looking through one hole he could see objects through the other hole, thus enabling a person to look behind him. We feel that this description is not very clear, and yet for the life of us we do not know how to make it clearer. The best plan for the reader will be to look well at the diagrams showing the inside and outside of the camera, get the wax, glass, and pill-box, and then potter about with them till he gets it right.
Camera led the conversation in our corner of the room to the subject of optical illusions, when some one of course suggested the hat experiment. There is probably nothing the proportions of which are so deceptive as a hat. Reader, if you have never tried the experiment, take a stick and point out on the wall how high you think a hat would reach from the floor if placed on its crown, as represented in our sketch.
Aunty Delluvian, the first to try, took the stick and boldly measured off a distance of between two and three feet, and utterly laughed to scorn the moderate persons who satisfied themselves with ten inches. After each of the measurements was marked with a pencil, and the hat itself put beside them, showing every one to be wrong, Aunty's amazement knew no bounds. Indeed, she would not be satisfied till we brought our own hat to convince her that some deception had not been practised.
This was Aunty Delluvian's first visit to the Adams', having only recently been introduced through the agency of Nix. I was, therefore, not unprepared for some criticism on our friends; but when the good lady, towards the close of the evening, took us to one side and said confidentially and emphatically, nodding her head at the same time knowingly, "No flippery, flummery. I like her!" we were a little surprised, the statement was so emphatic and yet so vague. That was all she said, walking away briskly when she had so delivered herself, as though she had rendered a final verdict. To which of the family did she refer? To Mrs. Adams, we presume, and yet she might have said something about the other members of the family. She is a queer creature is Aunty Delluvian.
We are disposed to think that the ART of entertaining is rarely if ever regarded as an ART, and certainly never treated as such. We, however, on this occasion, laid our plans and arranged our forces with as much care and skill as a general exercises in laying out a campaign. We have as profound a respect for a good commissary as ever did Napoleon Bonaparte. We had our reserve, too, and our signal corps, so that should the battle waver at any moment, it might be immediately set going again. Amongst other resources, we had a number of surprise pictures concealed in a certain place, which were to be produced when occasion might require. One of these will be found on opposite page, and comprises fifteen faces in one. Pictures of this kind always amuse, and are fine provocatives of conversation.
Reader, when you give a party, do not bring your entire force into action at first; always have a reserve to fall back upon.
We saw a whole group which was showing alarming symptoms of demoralization rallied with a pocket-handkerchief. Nix saw the emergency, drew his handkerchief, tied one end round the tip of his finger, on which, with a few dots of the pen, he had indicated a comic face, and threw himself into the dispirited crew, exclaiming:
"This is Rantepolefungus, the mysterious magician of Morocco." Then, in a feigned voice:
"How do, pretty ladee and gentlemen? Me tell fortune, work spell, makee incantation. Me tell you fortune, pretty missee; you be, by-a-by, sixt wife great street contractor; favorite wife, he givee dust-cart full of greeny-back; much lovee you; cut off head of all other wife, makee you much happy; he givee you large gold ring big's flour-barrel to wear in your nosee, and six whiskey cocktails every morning. Pretty ladee, give great magician buckshees," and a whole string of other nonsense, the little Moor moving his head and hands all the time, suiting the action to the words.
The sketches opposite will show how the Moor is made.
As we walked home with Nix, smoking our cigars, we agreed that the party had been managed with consummate generalship. As we parted, he asked us if we should like to have a small statue of Vishnu? Wonder what he meant.
CHAPTER XX
Those red and green lights which lend such a glory to the final tableaux of fairy pieces on the public stage, can easily be introduced into private parlor performances. There is no danger in using them; they are quite inexpensive, and very easily managed. Warning, however, should be given to all asthmatic persons to vacate the ranch before firing off, as their fumes are apt to produce unpleasant results. When we first performed the play of Bullywingle the Beloved, the red light was calculated on as a startling feature of the performance. At the proper moment the match was applied, the combustibles behaved handsomely, everybody was entranced, all save one unfortunate gentleman, subject to asthma, who created quite a sensation by rushing out of the house in a choking condition, and remaining speechless in the snow for over twenty minutes.
The mode of working these lights is to place one of the powders, for which we shall presently give you prescriptions, in an iron shovel, and apply a lighted match. The powder will begin to burn slowly, emitting a bright red or green light, accompanied by volumes of smoke. Before exhibiting these lights, all others in the room, gas or lamps, should be turned down as low as possible.
If the operator stands behind the scenes, so as to be out of sight during the performance, the effect is what Artemus Ward would call Trooly Grand.
In order to procure the lights, go to some druggist and give him the following prescriptions. He will procure the necessary materials and mix them for you.
RED FIRE
Forty parts of dry nitrate of strontian, thirteen parts of finely powdered sulphur, five parts of chlorate of potash, and four parts of sulphuret of antimony. The chlorate of potash and sulphuret of antimony should be powdered separately in a mortar, and then mixed together on paper; after which they may be added to the other ingredients, previously powdered and mixed.
GREEN FIRE
Green fire, when burned in a reflector, sheds a beautiful light on all surrounding objects. Take of flour of sulphur thirteen parts, of nitrate of baryta seventy-seven, of oxymuriate of potassa five, of metallic arsenic two, of charcoal three. The nitrate of baryta should be well dried and powdered; it should then be mixed with the other ingredients, all finely pulverized, and the whole triturated until perfectly blended together. A little calamine may be occasionally added, in order to make the compound slower of combustion; and it is above all things requisite that the rubbing together of the materials should be continued until they are completely mixed.
It may so happen that in some of your parlor theatricals you may wish to introduce a storm, so we will tell you how to manage it.
There are several elements in a storm which can be counterfeited.
Thunder.
Snow.
The sound of rain or hail.
Lightning.
Wind.
The noise of thunder is produced by shaking a sheet of iron behind the scenes. The sheet should be about three feet square, and can be procured at any stove store.
Snow can be represented by throwing handfuls of small scraps of paper from above.
It is best to mount on a chair or step-ladder behind the scenes, and strew them down in the proper direction. The scraps of paper should be of course white and torn, not cut, of the requisite size.
The sound of rain or hail is produced thus: Get the carpenter to make for you a box, from eight to twelve feet in length, and of about four inches inside diameter; put in a couple of handfuls of dried peas, and then fasten up the box; when you wish to make rain, tilt up one end of the box and let the peas run down to the other end, then reverse the box and let them run back again. As long as you continue to do this you will have an excellent imitation of rain, at least as far as the sound is concerned.
Lightning is imitated by having a lamp in a box; whenever you want to produce a flash, open the lid suddenly and close it again. Of course all the other lights in the room must have been previously lowered.
Wind. Sufficient wind to blow about the flakes of snow can be produced with a very large fan, a wooden frame with calico stretched over it being as good as anything. But to simulate the effects of a gale, some other means must be adopted.
We will assume that the curtain rises on a storm scene; thunder and hail are heard, and fitful flashes of lightning illumine the landscape. Enter a wandering female, a little girl, we will presume, in search of shelter; as she walks on to the stage leaning forward as though struggling against the blast, her shawl and dress are violently agitated by the wind. To produce this effect attach two or three strong threads to the garments named, and at the proper time jerk and pull them with a tremulous motion, to impart the natural action. The preceding diagram will illustrate our meaning.
These instructions may be found useful to amateur players, and will certainly heighten the effect of the performance when they can be introduced.
There is another point in connection with make-up to which we may as well call the reader's attention before closing this chapter. All persons, no matter how ruddy their complexions may be, look pale or sallow under the influence of the bright light necessary to illuminate a stage; to counteract this effect it is absolutely necessary to rouge, or in other words, paint the cheeks pink; a little carmine from your paint-box will serve for this purpose, if you have not the regular rouge powder on hand.
CHAPTER XXI
It is marvellous how much amusement, in a quiet way, can be got out of a pair of scissors and a piece of card-board. Moreover, if the fingers be plump and white, we know of no position in which they look more tantalizingly bewitching, than when harnessed like a couple of white mice in the iron yoke of a pair of liliputian shears. We have passed many a pleasant evening in contemplating and cutting. On one occasion which we remember well, as it led to sudden and unexpected matrimony of a valued friend, we sat till twelve o'clock at night and used up a whole pack of cards, except the jack of diamonds, in making boomerangs and other mechanical notions. The boomerang we have already introduced to our readers, and some of the other contraptions we shall now proceed to explain. So scare up all the cards you can, and bring out your army of scissors.
One card puzzle we have often tried, and with which most persons are familiar, is that of the cross. You cut out of card or stiff paper, five pieces similar in shape and size to the following, viz. one piece of fig. 1, one piece of fig. 2, and three pieces of fig. 3.
These five pieces you put together so as to make a cross like Figure 4.
If you cannot solve the problem, look at the following cut, and you will cease to be puzzled.
Now we will try another card puzzle. Cut a piece of card or paper in the shape of a horse-shoe, and mark on it the places for the nails as represented in the subjoined sketch.
The puzzle is with two cuts to divide it into six parts, each part containing one nail.
Of course you cannot do it; we could not do it ourselves, and had to get the white mice to show us the way.
Somehow or another we never can find out anything with half a dozen taper fingers fluttering before our eyes. They bewilder us terribly, getting between the feet of our ideas, so to speak, and tripping us up; as young lambs might serve an awkward shepherd.
Well, the mystery is solved thus: you cut off the upper circular part, containing two of the nails; then by changing the position of the piece, another cut will divide the horse-shoe into six portions, each containing one nail.
The next trick is of a slightly different style. Cut two pieces of card like those represented in the diagram and place them in the position represented; the problem is, with a small stick or lead-pencil, to raise them from the table, without of course touching them with your fingers. You may try this as often as you like. If you succeed, well and good; if you do not, you can come back here and refer to the solution.
Here is a picture (No. 2) representing the way in which it is done; need we add anything in the way of explanation? We think not – so we won't do it.
CHAPTER XXII
Nix has a sister married to a wealthy leather merchant, whose place of business is in that odoriferous part of New York city called The Swamp. She is very beautiful, so we call her the Swamp Angel, and her husband's counting-house, Araby the Blest. Her children we have christened Findings, the youngest being always spoken of as the last. We have numerous jokes, of course, about the cobbler sticking to his last, the best quality of calf, and so on. She is very good-natured, and enjoys our badinage heartily, having a healthy vein of fun of her own, which transmutes all the little events of domestic life into the most refined humor. We like humor in a woman, or we should rather say in a gentlewoman; her culture and the natural tact peculiar to her sex, seem to eliminate any of those grosser particles which the coarse sensibilities of a man would not detect. Humor is as fascinating in a woman as sarcasm is abominable; it requires the very highest breeding to make the latter quality moderately safe in the hands of young women. For our own part, we would rather see a woman chew tobacco than hear her say sharp things. However, this is a digression. Mrs. Crofton, as we said, is very fond of fun, and in her house there is that perfect ease and abandon which can only be enjoyed by well-bred people; whoever visits there is at home; and a favored few, of whom the writer has the honor of being one, are treated quite as enfants de famille.
If, on calling, we find the heads of the house from home, we know where the claret and cigars are kept. Cicero, the negro waiter, obeying standing orders, promptly serves up some repast, and presses the hospitality of the house upon us with all the aplomb and grace for which his race are remarkable.
We drop into breakfast whenever we feel so disposed, and invite ourselves to dinner or tea as freely as though our friends kept a hotel; indeed we jocularly call their mansion by various public names: "The Crofton House," "Fifth Avenue Hotel," "The Shoe and Leather House," etc., etc. We have perpetrated more sheer, downright nonsense in their saloons than any forty strait-laced country school-children ever condescended to commit in their rural play-ground.
One day during the holidays, when some fourteen or fifteen friends had dropped in quite promiscuous, and were playing all kinds of tricks, a certain gentleman, imported from England, an officer in the Guards, genus Swell, "pwoposed" that we should play the Muffin man. As none of us had ever heard of this gentleman or the muffin business, there was a general cry for light.
"Oh, its vewy jolly, I asshua yaw. We all sit wound in a wing, yaw know, and one of us, yaw know, sings:
"'Do yaw know the muffin man,
Do yaw know his name,
Do yaw know the muffin man,
That lives in Cwumpet Lane.'
Then the next person answers:
"'Oh, yes, I know the muffin man,
Oh, yes, I know the muffin man,
Oh, yes, I know the muffin man,
Who lives in Cwumpet3 Lane.'
Then he turns to the next person, and when each person has sung his verse, yaw know, he then joins in the cawus,4 until it has gone all wound;5 then, yaw know, we all sing together:
"'We all know the muffin man,
We all know his name;
We all know the muffin man,
Who lives in Cwumpet Lane.'
The game is, yaw know, to keep a gwave6 face all the time. If yaw laugh yaw pay a forfeit."
"The muffin man, the muffin man," echoed half a dozen voices; "let us play the muffin man."
The proposition being carried nem. con., we all sat "wound in a wing," or round in a ring, a circle of individuals of every age from three up to seventy. The Englishman, as head instigator, started the game, but before he got half through his verse we were all in convulsions of laughter; the next person took it up, but it was utterly useless to think of collecting the forfeits; we were all, in spite of every effort, like a party of maniacs reeling in our seats with merriment. There was something so utterly idiotic and absurd in a large party of respectable, rational beings, congratulating themselves in song that they "knew the muffin man of Crumpet Lane."
The English swell was immediately made an honorary member of our order, which is, as yet, without a name.
As we had all laughed our throats dry, Mr. Crofton invited us into the next room to see a man, as the Immortal Artemus delicately expresses it, so we all went in and saw the man. Some of us saw him in ice claret, some in hot punch, and some in cool champagne. One of Crofton's children, a maiden aged three years, whom they called Toney, as the diminutive of her Christian name, Antonia, came toddling in with the rest and said:
"Me, Nooni, want see man." Whereupon her father gave her a goblet of lemonade. She just tasted it, and handed it back with supreme contempt, saying:
"Me, Nooni, want banny wasser;" which being translated into English means:
"Me, Toney, wants brandy and water."
The little voluptuary was satisfied with a glass of weak claret punch.
During this conversation, Bub, a patriarch of five years, who had been looking on with a very patronizing air, now came forward, and laying his hand on his sister's shoulder, lisped out:
"Oh, you tunnen witty sing, zats nice banny water." Then turning to us in a confidential way, he continued: "She's a witty durl (little girl); she finks (thinks) zats banny water; banny water make witty durls fick (sick); me, big boy, banny water not make me fick."
We gave him a nondescript drink, flavored with every liquor on the table, which made him feel immensely proud.
"Let us play at earth, air, fire, and water," said Mrs. Crofton.
"Very well, Toney," answered her husband. "You can play at earth, and I will play with the fire-water." So saying, he filled himself a glass of punch, and stretched his limbs in an easy-chair.
"I think my husband is the laziest fellow living," laughed Mrs. Crofton. "I do believe if I were being carried off by wild Indians, he would make a note of it in his memorandum book, to have his porter attend to the matter next day."
Nix here interposed: "Dear, dear, these family quarrels are very painful. Come, Toney, and help to amuse the young people. Earth, air, fire, and water, whatever that may be, is the order of the day. How do you play it, Toney?"
"You all sit round the room, and then one of the party throws something at one of the others, at the same time naming one of the elements, earth, or air, or fire, or water; then he begins to count one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, and before he says ten, the person struck must name some animal living in the element chosen."
"Well, but what do you throw at the person?" inquired Nix; "a bureau, or decanter, for instance?"
"No, no; something small and soft, like a pair of gloves, or – or – oh, I know, wait a minute and I will run up-stairs and get the baby's worsted ball; that will be just the thing."
While Mrs. Crofton was absent, and she was detained rather longer than her mission seemed to warrant, Nix, in poking about in his sister's work-basket in pursuit of mischief, discovered a piece of white beeswax.
"Eureka!" he exclaimed, "I have it; we will play Toney a trick before she comes back; we will make her think some one has broken her new mirror."
Saying this, he advanced to a large pier-glass between the windows, and marked on it a huge star with the white wax something like the accompanying diagram, and then instructed one or two of us to make lamentations over it when his sister should return. We had not to wait long: in a few minutes Mrs. C. entered the room, whereupon we conspirators set to work gesticulating, and talking over the supposed catastrophe.
"Dear! dear!" said one, "how unfortunate!"
"How did it happen?" queried a second.
"I really don't know," answered a third. "I merely heard a crash, and – "
Here the lady came on the scene, looking quite flushed.
"I knew you children would be in some mischief," she said, "while I was away. I suppose this is some of my clumsy brother's work. He never comes into the house without destroying something."
"I'm very sorry," whined Nix, contritely; "it was quite an accident, I assure you; but I wonder whether it could not be mended?"
"Mended! you goose," exclaimed his sister. "Who ever heard of mending a broken mirror! It will take a pretty big cheque on your banker to mend that, sir."
"I am not so sure of that," replied Nix. "If it is not very bad I might – any way I will try." Suiting the action to the words, he advanced towards the mirror in such a position that his sister could not see what he did, and very deliberately wiped out the wax marks with his pocket-handkerchief. The astonishment of Mrs. C. at this miracle knew no bounds, nor could the gift of any amount of new pier-glasses have given her more pleasure.
"Now, then, all take your seats; we are going to play earth, air, fire, and water."
The circle is formed; our hostess holds the woollen ball poised in her hand for an instant, and then sends it flying into the bosom of a grey-haired old gentleman, at the same time uttering the word "air," and commencing to count rapidly, "one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten." The old gentleman seemed utterly paralysed until she had finished counting, when he stammered out, "Wh – h – h – h – h – Pig!" amidst the roars of laughter of every one present. Of course he had to pay a forfeit, and took his turn at throwing the ball.
No one who has not seen this game played can conceive how ludicrous it is, or how much good wholesome laughter may be got out of it. When a sufficient number of forfeits had accumulated, they were cried in the usual manner. A good deal of ingenuity was displayed in awarding the tasks as well as in executing them. One was that the owner of this "pretty thing" should make an impromptu containing the names of every one in the room, and was managed in the following style:
"Three Howards – Corsey, Toney, Archibald, and Nix,
Bub, Brown, Campbell, Jim and Jane have got me in a fix."
Another task imposed was, that the owner of a cigar-case should give us a riddle no one could solve. Going into the next room, this person procured a glass of wine, and holding it up said: "Gentlemen, I give you 'the ladies.'" No one attempted to solve this riddle. Another gentleman was ordered to point out the greatest goose in the room. This delicate task he set about performing in the following manner: he went to one young lady and asked her to hold up her face to the light, which she did, whereupon he imprinted a chaste salute on her lips; he then went to the next, but she persisted in holding down her head. He then turned round to his tasker and said: "Really it is impossible for me to determine which are the geese if they will not allow me to examine their bills." He was let off.
