COMEDIAN
Soon a new announcement could be read on the bills of the "Circus of
the Two Worlds."
The Celebrated
DEVADATTA
Unique Elephant
Brother of
THE DIVINE GANESA
In His Various Acts
Mr. Oldham had certainly acquitted himself remarkably well and rapidly,
with my education, and I now no longer delighted the public by merely
juggling with rings. I performed at each representation, always in the
same order of succession, and when my repertoire was completed, this is
what I did.
First, I tossed the rings; then a target was placed, and I stood before
it, with a basket of balls beside me. I picked up the balls with my
trunk, and threw them at the target--and I believe I never missed.
The target being removed, a huge ball of iron was brought to me, and I
stood upon it with my four feet, balancing myself, and moving slowly
forward. This exercise fatigued me excessively; so, to afford me a
rest, I was made to play a _Dramatic Scene_.
A young King and a beautiful young Queen were supposed to be travelling
happily in the country. All at once sounds of the hunt are heard; I
appear--chased by horsemen; the young King and Queen try in terror to
hide themselves; I pretend to be enraged, and run furiously two or
three times round the Circus. Then I see the Queen, and rush towards
her. Then, in the Scene as originally composed by Moukounj--(for my
master had become an author, in order to increase the brilliancy of my
theatrical career), the King should strive to protect the Queen with
his person, draw his sword, and bury it in my breast, and I should
fall, apparently dead. The sword, of course, had a blade of tin, which
slipped up inside the handle. But this finale was changed by me after
the first evening.
It was Miss Nightingale who played the young Queen. She was most lovely
in this part, with a robe of delicate white gauze under which glistened
a tunic of mauve silk. And when I saw her, looking so beautiful, the
memory of Parvati, which never left me, came over me more vividly
and tenderly than ever before; so that, instead of rushing violently
upon her, I stopped; and then came forward slowly, and humbly and
submissively--knelt at her feet! The audience applauded tremendously,
and it was decided to retain this denouement for the Scene hereafter.
After this, I made the circle of the Ring five times on a Bicycle,
an enormous Bicycle built for my stature. (You can imagine with what
difficulty an elephant could balance himself on such a machine!) I
worked the pedals with my forefeet and steered with my trunk.
Next, I had to stand up and dance a Polka; and, finally, I had to play
another Dramatic Scene--a _Comedy_, composed by Mr. Oldham.
They brought into the middle of the Circus a Table and a Chair of the
proper size for me. Then a couple of uprights, between which hung a
bell, with a cord attached.
I entered, sat down in the chair, and with my trunk pulled the
bell-cord. Instantly, Mr. Oldham, dressed like a Waiter, ran in. I made
him understand that I wished my dinner.
"Yes, Mr. Elephant--it will be ready immediately!"
He went out. Then I drew from a bag fastened around my waist a pair
of enormous spectacles, and put them on. Then I took a news-paper and
pretended to read--(though at that time I did not really know how to
read!) After a while, as Mr. Oldham did not return, I pretended to grow
impatient, and rang again, and Mr. Oldham ran in:
"Yes, Mr. Elephant.... Your dinner will be ready in a few minutes!"
Twice more I rang, and twice Mr. Oldham ran in and repeated the
same thing, "Yes, Mr. Elephant, your dinner will be ready in a few
minutes"--without bringing me anything. The third time he brought
me merely one dish, which contained nothing but a few rolls, and I
swallowed them in one mouthful.
I rang again and Mr. Oldham appeared; I signified that I wished
something more. After a long while he brought me a second dish, with
a few vegetables, which I ate up as quickly as the first. I ordered
another dish, and this time he brought me fruits, cakes, and a bottle
of Champagne, which I popped loudly!
I now rang for the last time, and signed that I desired my bill.
Without waiting a moment this time, Mr. Oldham brought me an enormously
long piece of paper. I put on my spectacles, having taken them off to
eat. I looked at the bill, and gave a deep roar of indignation. Mr.
Oldham fell to the ground as if terror-stricken, and bounded up again:
"What is the matter, Mr. Elephant?"
I expressed my displeasure by tearing the bill, and getting up and
stamping on it.
"You think it is too much?"
I made a sign that I did.
"But you must pay it!"
I signified that I would not.
"What! You will not pay me?"
I continued to signify "No."
"Very well! Mr. Elephant, we will see about that!" and he called out:
"Hi! there! Police! Police!"
Then entered Mr. Trick and Mr. Trock, dressed as Policemen.
"Policemen!" said Mr. Oldham, "here is Mr. Elephant who refuses to pay
my bill!"
"Oh, very well! we will arrest you, Mr. Elephant, and take you to the
Station House," said Mr. Trick.
"Yes! Off with him to the Station House!" said Mr. Trock.
At this threat I appeared to be very much agitated, and, using my
trunk, I drew out of my bag a number of imitation bank notes, which
I threw down on the table--and went hastily out, while Mr. Oldham
performed an extravagant and burlesque dance of triumph with Mr. Trick
and Mr. Trock....
This scene always delighted the public, who invariably encored me two
or three times. But I felt humiliated at playing the part of a buffoon,
and making a clown of myself.
I lived in this way for several years; when the receipts fell off in
any city, Mr. Hardwick took us to another. We went from Calcutta to
Chandernagor, from Chandernagor to Patna; then I saw Benares, Alahabad,
Delhi, and other places.
I need not have been very unhappy. I had made myself respected by those
who at first attempted to tease me. Mr. Oldham was proud of his pupil
and loved me; Moukounj was always the same good, kind fellow who had
received me; and my four friends, Miss Annie, who, I had occasionally
protected from her mother's violence, Circé Nightingale, Miss Sarah
Skipton, and Miss Clara Morley were always kind and spoiled me
incessantly.
But, alas! I thought constantly of my beautiful life of other days--so
calm--so happy; and I thought of Parvati, who perhaps was sad and
ill-treated, and whom I might have defended. Had she forgotten me? Or,
if she thought of me, must she not accuse me of ingratitude? And, had I
not been indeed ungrateful, to leave her as I did, because of a wicked
jealousy?...
So, in spite of all the kindness by which I was surrounded, I was very,
very sad.
[Illustration]