BARNUM'S INNATE DIFFIDENCE.
As soon as the vociferous cheering had subsided, Mr. Barnum reached the
foot-lights, and smiled beneficently upon the crowd before him.
"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN," said the show-man, modestly, "unaccustomed as I
am to public speaking, you will pardon me, _imprimis_, for hinting at
the extreme diffidence with which I now rise to address you; and I am
sure that, notwithstanding the commendable zeal that now animates this
enlightened audience, you will sympathize with me in the midst of the
embarrassments under which you must readily perceive _I_ am laboring,
and extend to the speaker your lenity (all unused, as you are aware he
is, to this sort of scene), while he ventures upon a few very brief
remarks on the interesting and laudably-exciting topic that has brought
us together here, on this happy occasion."
This modest appeal brought down the house, of course; and the bashful
Mr. B., after clearing his throat, was requested by the crowd to "Go on,
Barnum! Proceed--put 'er through!"
"The hen fever," continued Mr. B----, "is but just _begun_ to be
realized, ladies and gentlemen, among us." (Barnum had been attacked by
the malady only a few weeks previously, and hadn't "heard from the back
counties" then!) "This first exhibition of the National Poultry Society,
my friends, is ample evidence in support of this statement. Was there
ever such a show seen, or heard of, ladies and gentlemen, as this which
you are now the witnesses of? Never! Yet, I repeat it, this is but the
commencement. The enthusiasm which has attended upon this exhibition,
the feelings that have been stirred up by this before unheard-of
display, the people of every grade in society that come forward here in
its support, the zeal which animates the bosoms of the thousands upon
thousands who have attended it, and the names of the men connected with
its origin and present patronage, afford ample evidence in support of my
assertions, that the fire has but just begun--just _begun_ to burn,
fairly, ladies and gentlemen!" ("That's a fact," was the ready response
of a young gentleman who had just paid my agent over three hundred
dollars for a few samples of my "choice" chickens; the first he ever
owned!)
"_I_ want to say a few words," remarked a stranger, under the gallery,
at this point. But he was requested by the chairman to "_hold in!_"
until Mr. Barnum concluded. After considerable urging, this anxious man
was prevailed upon to sit down; though he was evidently "full to
bursting," with his enthusiastic emotions.
"We have a good deal to learn yet, gentlemen," continued Barnum (and
that was truthful, at any rate!) "We have much to learn; but we know
enough to spur us on to acquire more. More knowledge, more experience,
more fowls. We haven't enough--we don't know enough, yet. I am greatly
rejoiced at the prospects, to-day, and with the entire success of this
enterprise, here!" (And well he might be.) "I have freely given my time
and humble talents to its consummation, and we have triumphed! We, _the
people_, the men who have the heart and the pluck to undertake and carry
through this sort of thing. There's no hum in _this_, gentlemen! None,
whatever. How _can_ there be? We see this thing before our very eyes. It
is a tangible, living, breathing, walking, crowing" (and he might have
added _eating_!) "reality, ladies and gentlemen. There can be no humbug
in anything of this sort; because we can take hold upon it, handle it,
view it with our eyes open. A humbug is but an unexplained or
half-concluded _fact_. This is a self-evident, clearly-defined fact--
'A thing that _is_--and to be blessed!'
And when you, or I, can take a crower in our hands that will weigh
twelve or fourteen or fifteen pounds,--when we can see and feel
him,--can there, by any possibility, be humbug in it?"
"No--no--no!" shouted the crowd; the ladies kindly joining in the
decisive negative given to this forcible appeal.
"Then, I repeat it, we are but just in the beginning of the commencement
of this new and promising era. The fire has just begun to burn, and to
illumine the world; and, as I said before (or intended to say), it is
not to be subdued! It is a mighty conflagration, which assails everybody
at this moment, and is now enveloping all classes of the community, from
the highest to the lowest! This land is in a blaze! In a threatening,
exciting, violent, whirling, astounding blaze, gentlemen--and no
opposition or invention can put it out!" ("Fetch on your
fire-'nihilators, then!" shouted a vicious wag, from the gallery.)
"We don't want to put it out," continued Mr. Barnum, growing warmer as
the fire of his zeal in this cause continued to glow within him; "we
have no wish to put it out. Let it burn! Let it come! Let it
conflagrate! We love it--_you_ love it--_I_ love it--it's one of the
things we admire to think of, and speak of, and read of, and pay for,
and help to keep alive here, and everywhere, and elsewhere! Our country
is big enough; we have millions of broad acres, miles on miles of
fertile fields, and cords of maize and grain that cannot be used or
disposed of, unless it be devoted to the uses and benefits of these
beautiful birds, sometimes so cavalierly spoken of by their enemies, but
the value of which _I_ know, and most of _you_, gentlemen, know how to
appreciate!" (Applause, and cries of "Go it, old hoss! You'll be a
capital customer for some of the hen-men to pick up! Go it, Barnum!")
"I did not rise, gentlemen," continued the speaker, "with any idea of
telling you anything new. I am but an humble coadjutor with you in this
pleasing and innocent undertaking. I can see, as you can, also, the
importance of this subject" (he didn't say _what_ "subject"), "and I
trust that we may go on, and increase, and multiply domestic fowls and
customers, in a ratio commensurate with the rapidly increasing throbs of
the public pulse--which is now beating only at 2.40, and which must soon
reach a 2.10 pace, if nothing breaks!" ("Hurra! Hurra!" yelled the boys;
"that's a good 'un!") And the President sat down, blushing, amid the
uproarious applause that followed his remarks.
As soon as order was comparatively restored, other gentlemen, whom the
President introduced as "honorable," and "talented," and "professional,"
and "influential," took the rostrum, and "followed suit" upon Barnum's
lead.
A vote of thanks was finally passed to Mr. Barnum for his services, and
the _sacrifices_ he had made in behalf of the "Society;" another to the
"orator" of the day (whose name I have now forgotten), formerly a member
of Congress, I believe; another similar vote to the Secretary, to whom,
also, a plated jug was subsequently presented; a vote to Mr. Burnham, of
Boston, for his speech and his "magnificent" contributions of
_pure_-bred stock; a vote condemning everybody who had or should
thenceforward nickname fowls; a vote of condolence and sympathy with
John Giles, because none of his _pure_ Black Spanish fowls were in the
exhibition; a vote to Porter, of the New York _Spirit of the Times_, for
his disinterested notices of the show; another to Greeley, of the
_Tribune_, who hadn't time to visit it; another to pay the bills of the
"Committees" at the Astor House (_minus_ the champagne charges!);
another to Dr. Bennett, for not being present at this show; another
endorsing the claims of patent pill-venders and cross-grained bee-hive
makers; another to Frank Pierce, for the allusions in his inaugural to
the "march of progress" in our land, which of course included
Shanghae-ism; another to Caleb Cushing (an honorary member), who was
lauded as the most thoroughly graceless humbug known to the "national"
society; another endorsing the collector and postmaster of Boston as
disinterested democrats; another that my "Grey Shanghaes" were evidently
the only full-blooded fowls exhibited at the American Museum on this
occasion; and numerous other resolves were duly "voted," of which no
note was taken at the time.
While this bosh was transpiring, I sent to Boston for some fifty pairs
more of my "superb" specimens of Shanghaes and Cochins, all of which
were disposed of during the second week of this show, at curiously
"ruinous" rates. And at the close of the exhibition my agent had taken
very nearly _three thousand dollars_ for the "pure" Shanghaes, and
Cochins, and Greys, he had sold there for my account!
I trust that every one was as well satisfied with the results of this
first exhibition of the "National Poultry Society" as I was. It is the
last show _I_ shall ever attend. And having invariably taken the lead,
from the beginning up to this trial, I retired, content with the
self-assurance that I had made all I could make out of this sort of
thing, and that the field now legitimately belonged to my juniors in the
profession. May success attend them!
At the close of the exhibition, my friend Barnum congratulated me.
"They tell me you've done _well_, Burnham," said my friend, cheerfully.
"I'm glad of it. And, since you've made it so handsomely, suppose you
leave me a couple of your best Fancy Rabbits, yonder; I'll add them to
the 'Happy Family.'"
"Certainly," I replied. "With great pleasure, B----. And, since _you_
have done so capitally with this show, you shall give me a quarter of
your profits on the tickets sold. Here--take the rabbits!"
"A-_hem_!" said Barnum. "No--no. It's no matter. You needn't--no--we
won't say anything about it. It's all right. You'll do. You can run
alone, I guess. _I believe I don't spell my name right!_
Good-by--good-by."
I haven't seen friend Barnum since.
At this exhibition of poultry I managed to show a pair of my pure-bred
Suffolk pigs, too, which did not set me back any. I took numerous orders
for these animals, and I have given on page 174 what passes for a
likeness of a fancy "Shanghae" fowl, such as we "read of in the
newspapers," and which everybody, during the last five years, imagined
he was buying, when he ordered "such," after seeing the "pictur'."
In this class of illustration, there was quite as much deceit and
chicanery practised, commonly, as in any part of the general system of
the humbug. The uninitiated saw the well-rounded forms of the huge fowls
or hogs he sought, in his weekly agricultural journal, from time to
time; and, through the same channel, he met with "portraits,"
represented to have had originals at some time or other, and which were
said to be in the possession of this or that breeder, who "had been
induced, after earnest solicitation, to part with a very few choice
samples," out of such imaginary stock. With the _swine_, the thicker the
ham, the smaller the feet, the shorter the nose, and the thinner the
hair, the better and the _purer_ blooded pig you got, for instance!
The following is a sample of this kind of guy, which has had its run in
the past three years, and upon which tens of thousands of dollars have
been squandered by enthusiastic admirers of these bloated bladders of
lard. This is _supposed_ to be a likeness of the "genuine" Suffolk pig.
[Illustration: SUFFOLK PIG.]
The good old lady replied, when asked if she loved the Lord, "I donno
much about him, but I hain't nothin' agin him!" So I affirm in reference
to this hog. But one thing I may be permitted to remark in this
connection; to wit, that the more pure Suffolk _pigs_ there are, the
less _corn_ you find round. That's all!