Circumstances usually arise along the path of folly to make it
increasingly expensive. Emil Stuffer appeared to supply one important
item. He had been attracted to Stevens Institute by the associations of
his home. The students from this great school gathered around his
father's hospitable fire and rested their brains when weary with the
curves of analytical geometry and the stupid exactness of the
differential calculus. Emil was clever at his profession--that of
mechanical engineer--and for five years after his graduation from the
Institute had devoted himself to that career. Then his father needed his
assistance in running the hotel, for in his older years A. Stuffer found
it difficult to move with alacrity, and unless more speed could be
introduced in the management he saw that it might appear in the
departure of the guests. Emil, therefore, had come home to fall heir in
due time to the business, and prior to the ceremonies attending that
event, he was to be his father's lieutenant, practicing his avocation as
an ornithologist, whose specialty was rare birds, at leisure moments.
Emil enjoyed also the work of the taxidermist, and loved dearly to cut
and stuff. Jerry, the wonderful cat of the glass case in the office,
gave only a hint of his skill and the remarkable perfection he achieved
in improving the designs of nature. Under Emil's mechanical touch Jerry
became far more interesting and a better advertisement for the business,
when connected with his father's yarn regarding him as an electric
phenomenon, than he had ever been during the days of his active
existence on earth.
Mrs. Tescheron particularly admired the many specimens of birds shown in
nearly every room in the house, and even Gabrielle found them
interesting. Mr. Tescheron, who was something of an expert on fish, and
had written a number of articles on rare specimens in the line of his
specialty for the Fish Journal, was glad to take up the subject of rare
birds and pursue it with similar interest. Birds and fish are allied in
the student mind. Under the tutorship of Emil, he drank from the Hoboken
source of bird wisdom. If Emil by some stroke of Fate had been thrown
into Fulton Market for six weeks he might have become a student of
fish, and Mr. Tescheron the enthusiastic teacher. If any stranger from
the briny deep was hauled aboard a fishing smack and brought to our
city, Mr. Tescheron was the expert who told the newspapers all about it.
He told a straight, scientific story in popular language, and until it
had been rewritten by local fish editors and some twenty times more by
as many other piscatorial experts, it was hardly cured to a point where
it would pass in the domain of post-prandial fact. A very large whale
was once brought into the market and placed on exhibition at an
admission fee of one dime. The story of this whale, as interpreted by
Mr. Tescheron, appeared throughout the country for many weeks afterward.
A Western version of the New York interview, as it appeared in some
stereotyped plate matter of a Western news association, I give here
verbatim, to show how truth may be improved:
=JONAH'S WHALE APARTMENT.=
* * * * *
=New York Fish Expert Proves the Bible Story True.=
* * * * *
=The Higher Criticism of the Market.=
* * * * *
=Nothing at all strange that a man should be very comfortable inside
the roomy mammal with plenty of light and air and good wholesome
food--Structure shows it was built for the purpose.=
* * * * *
Albert Tescheron, the celebrated Fulton Market expert on rare fish,
who is thoroughly familiar with the anatomy of whales, consented to
give his opinion concerning Jonah this morning to the reporter of the
Sporting Extra.
"Mr. Tescheron, please tell me," said the reporter, "in just what
part of the whale Jonah lived for three days. My paper wants the true
story, with such Biblical data as may bear upon it, interpreted by
the higher criticism of the Fish Market. I want to get an interior
view of the apartments he lived in by flashlight or the X-ray, so as
to print the Jonah story right up to date. There were none of our men
present, you understand, when the thing happened."
"The belly of the whale is commodious, as you may see," replied Mr.
Tescheron, pointing to the spot with his cane. "Here we have the
probable position of Jonah, seated with a knee against each ear and
his hands clasped over his ankles. Now this episode as narrated
plainly tells us that Jonah was 'swallowed up;' he wasn't chewed up,
but swallowed whole, and from such investigations as I have made,
studying whales before and after meals, and from what I know of the
layout of the interior occupied by Jonah, he sat, as I say, a solid
chunk of a man which no whale could digest. Now you know the whale is
a regular submarine vessel equipped the same as those divers of our
navy, with a perfect outfit of air valves. You must remember reading
that this fish was prepared for the special business of swallowing
Jonah, and for no other purpose. The whale comes up at regular
intervals and blows the water out of his air-tight compartments and
sucks in a fresh air supply--enough to last him and two or three more
passengers, so that Jonah, it may be seen, had no trouble at all to
breathe, and agreed with the whale until the whale was beached, while
asleep, at low water. The lack of all rolling motion in the land, and
the fact that an uneven keel made Jonah claw around more than usual,
made the whale land-sick. A whale can throw a stream from its snout
for about five rods, but when it strikes land that way under heavy
ballast it chucks all its load, water and solids, like a torpedo
hitting a ship. I have experimented with small whales--say from ten
to twenty feet over all, and never knew one to miss when he bumped
land. The whale was prepared especially to do that--to release Jonah,
and does it with wonderful automatic economy--the same that we
scientific men note throughout nature. If the people who laugh at
this story of Jonah would watch whales a little closer, especially at
low tide, when stranded and taking a nap, they would be surprised to
find how the whale wakes up and heaves ballast.
"Just see the inside arrangements here," and Mr. Tescheron outlined
on the surface of the dead monster the exterior elevation of Jonah's
home. "Just behind this outer covering is a splendid living-room, 6
feet by 4, lighted by the phosphorescent glow of the interior walls.
A whale is full of phosphorus. The ceiling is a little low, but the
ventilation is perfect, without draughts, and the temperature is
about what you would find in Florida in January. The humidity is a
little heavy, so that when the whale runs too far North he may chill
inside and steam like a London fog or a Russian bath, but when Jonah
entered and stayed for three days it was warm weather, and he was
able to see plainly and be quite comfortable, although you may
remember he referred to the place in strong terms when he was praying
to get out. The two rooms adjoining the living-room are also cosy,
you see--hot-water heating system and all--open plumbing. How far did
the whale throw Jonah? About a hundred feet, I should say, and this
lightened his ballast so that he floated again and was able to
reverse his tail motion and back off into deep water."
Through the courtesy of Mr. Tescheron the reporter was able to
arrange with the whale owners to have it opened and the artists of
the Sporting Extra peeked in, and viewed the three-room-and-bath
apartment arranged in a kind of ham-shaped building with accordeon
sides. The artist's recollection of the plan is as follows:
We regret that space will not permit us to present the picture taken
by our imaginative artist showing Jonah in his disguise as a prophet,
reading one of his own sermons at a phosphorescent chandelier. But
the following picture,[A] indicating the camera-like arrangement of
the whale's Jonah suite in the dry-land collapse, with Jonah seated
on a wad of compressed air shooting upstairs and through the
vestibule, presents the Tescheron theory with greater vividness.
Emil Stuffer's father was very proud of his accomplished son. "That boy
of mine," he used to say to Mr. Tescheron, "thinks nothing of starting
out any time, day or night, for a rare bird. He'll just leave a note
here saying he's started, and like as not the next time I hear from him
he's caught a new kind of sand-piper, a god-wit or killyloo bird in a
Florida swamp, or one of them glossy ibises he hankers so for. That
extra pale bubo up there (pointing to a case above the office desk), he
picked up in Northeast Labrador."
Mr. Tescheron was greatly impressed with all this. He liked Emil, the
student, and found much in common with him. He questioned Emil
frequently, and was always glad to hear that enthusiast talk on his
hobby.
When Mr. Tescheron's enthusiasm had attained the proper pitch, he was
admitted by Emil to view his private collection of the Rare Birds of
Eastern North America, attractively displayed in glass cases around
three attic rooms. Collectors from far and near had seen this collection
and had praised it in letters which Emil showed in an off-hand way to
the eager fish expert. One of these letters contained an offer of
$15,000 for the collection.
"I wouldn't take $25,000 for that lot of birds," said Emil to the amazed
Tescheron at the first interview.
"Do you suppose you'll ever get that much?" asked the unbelieving guest,
making full allowance for the high opinion a collector has of his own
wares. "Who'd give it?"
"Any museum that wants the finest collection of Rare Birds of Eastern
North America will give it readily. A friend of mine who has been
collecting postage stamps, values his collection at that, and he hasn't
begun to put the time and money into it I have put in this work. Here
are over one hundred of the rarest birds to be found from Florida to
Labrador--any bird expert can tell that."
Mr. Tescheron became deeply interested. He consulted his friend Smith,
the great detective, who recommended a bird expert he knew to appraise
the collection and get a price from its fond owner. For a consideration
of fifty dollars, the bird expert spent an hour in Hoboken viewing the
Emil Stuffer collection without letting it be known whom he represented.
At least that was the agreement he made with Mr. Tescheron. He reported
that the collection would be a bargain at five thousand dollars, and he
believed it might be bought for that, as he understood Mr. Stuffer was
in need of money and was beginning to hint he might sacrifice it among
people in the trade; but of course he gave no sign of anxiety to
possible purchasers.
A man makes his pile in the fish business, but it is not monumental; it
will not live after him in memorial grandeur, and the business itself is
far from imposing--the phosphate of ammonia and its volatile allies
passing even from the recollection of reminiscent contemporaries. The
people with rare collections to sell work among that class of trade
represented by Tescheron, a man with money seeking to benefit mankind in
some way that will insure the perpetuation of his name carved in stone
or cast in bronze, with the cost of maintenance shouldered by contract
on the impersonal taxpayer, for whom glory pro rata is reserved to be
enjoyed by reflection from the monumented name of the philanthropist.
Thus the good a taxpayer does is interred with his bones, if he has been
careful to pay up and not be sold out beforehand for arrears. But the
good the philanthropist does is resolved into fame founded on one of the
surest things known--taxes.
It is not ethical for a man engaged in supplying rare collections to
advertise, but like the most fashionable jewelers, whose correspondence
with ladies is in copper-plate long-hand, penned on delicate note-paper,
by a clerical force of slender-fingered young gentlemen--refined,
polite, indirect and apparently disinterested appeals must be made. Emil
Stuffer comprehended the art of the sales department.
Some day I hope to get enough out of the public to give a set of my
writings on political economy to every town that will firmly bind
itself, as the party of the second part, to keep them dusted.
The town authorities of Stukeville, N. Y., a village of three thousand
inhabitants, were already the proud possessors of the Tescheron
collection of rare fish, comprising some three hundred prepared
specimens, displayed in rooms set apart in the library building. They
were glad to furnish the additional rooms needed for the accommodation
of the celebrated Stuffer Collection of the Rare Birds of Eastern North
America, and also to provide, according to the deed of gift: "for the
proper maintenance of the same, with the understanding that the gift is
absolute to the citizens of Stukeville without further conditions or
reservations, whatsoever," etc.
The dealer, acting as Mr. Tescheron's agent, secretly, made the purchase
about a week before the Tescheron family departed, and the outfit was
shipped to Stukeville, where it was set up by Miss Griggs, the librarian
(who kept two canaries and understood birds), assisted by three men, who
did the carting. There it stands to-day, a monument to the benefactor of
Stukeville. The smile on the elongated face of the pelican, who is
scratching his left ear with a broad web flipper, reflects in mummied
perpetuity the gratitude hidden behind the quiet exterior of the
studious Emil Stuffer, ornithologist and mechanical engineer--but
principally the latter, when he received word from the expert that the
sale had been made.
In Hoboken they now tell of the sale of this collection as a joke, but
in Stukeville it is a serious matter. Up there it is in the domain of
natural history.
Afterward, when I started out to visit the places involved in the wages
of my unlucky interference, I ran up to Stukeville and looked over the
birds. I could see that a stretched neck or lengthened legs and fancy
tail feathers, with a few minor alterations in the bill and wings, were
all that was necessary to make a rare wild bird out of a tame duck.
Hoboken-built birds seemed to answer every purpose, however, in
Stukeville.
When it was all over except spending the money, A. Stuffer used to ask
his scholarly son:
"Say, Emil, which was the hardest to make--Jerry, or one of them
Stukeville pets?"