We will now describe a little party we attended at a country house one
Christmas, some years ago; and should any of our readers find aught in
the entertainment they think worth copying, they can do so.
[Illustration]
When we arrived at Nix's house all the company had assembled--it
consisted of about ten grown people and a dozen children. All were in a
chatter over a couple of little objects on the centre-table. The one a
pig manufactured out of a lemon, and the other a dragon, or what not,
adapted from a piece of some kind of root our friend Nix had picked up
in the garden. We alluded to these works of art in our last chapter, and
now give a couple of sketches of them. As will be seen, they are very
easy of manufacture, and not excessively exciting when made, but they
serve to set people talking. One person told the story of Foote, or
some other old wit, who, at a certain dinner-table, after numerous
fruitless efforts to cut a pig out of orange-peel, retorted on his
friend who was quizzing him on his failure: "Pshaw! you've only made one
pig, but (pointing to the mess on the table) I have made a litter." Then
some one else discovered a likeness between the dragon and a mutual
friend, which produced a roar of laughter. Then a child exclaimed, "Oh!
what a little pig!" and some one answered her: "Yes, my dear, it's a
pigmy." Then a young lady asked how the eyes were painted, and a young
gentleman replied: "With pigment." Whereupon a small boy called out, "Go
in lemons!" which was considered rather smart in the small boy, and he
was told so, which induced him to be unnecessarily forward and pert for
the rest of the evening; but as he never succeeded in making another
hit, he gradually simmered down to his normal condition towards the end
of the entertainment. One group got into conversation about the dragon,
the dragon led to fabulous animals generally, fabulous animals to
antediluvian animals, these to pre-Adamite animals, and so in a few
minutes they were found deep in the subject of Creation; whilst the
group next to them, owing to some one's having conjectured whether my
friend's piece of sculpture could walk, and some one else having
suggested that it might be made to do so by means of clock-work or
steam, had got on to the subject of machinery, modern improvements,
flying-machines, and were away two thousand years off in the future,
making a difference of no less than ten thousand years between
themselves and the other party. At about this juncture of affairs, we
happened to notice a book on the table treating of a certain very
interesting animal, the newly discovered African ape, a subject which
was attracting a good deal of attention at that time. We took the work
in our hand and read on the cover the inscription: "Portrait of the
Gorilla." "Nix," we said to our friend, still holding the book in our
hand, "if all we hear of this gorilla be true, it must be a most
extraordinary animal, although I am rather inclined to be sceptical in
the matter; however, I have no right, perhaps, to form an opinion, as I
have never looked into the subject; but I'll get you to lend me this
book to-morrow. I will take the greatest care of it, and return it;
yes, I will, upon my word of honor. You never knew me fail to return any
work you lent me." This we said rather warmly, thinking we detected a
somewhat suspicious smile playing round the corner of our friend's
mouth. "Oh! yes, certainly," replied he; "you can have it with
pleasure--though I think your doubts will vanish when you have _looked
into it_." We did not notice specially that all eyes were upon us. We
carelessly opened the volume, and there, by all the spirits ever bought
and sold! was a neat little mirror between the covers of the book, and
reflected in it our own lovely countenance. Portrait of the Gorilla! eh?
This was what the boys would call _rather rough_, but every one except
ourself seemed to think it quite funny. It was some satisfaction,
however, to know that every one of the party had been taken in in like
manner before our arrival.
A slight but pleasant tinkling now fell upon our ear, and behold! a
maiden entered, bearing a tray covered with tall crystal minarets, and
transparent goblets, which sparkled and twinkled in the lamplight,
followed by a more youthful figure supporting vessels of porcelain and
implements of burnished silver, above which wreathed and curled clouds
of aromatic incense; or, in other and better words, two hired girls
brought in coffee and punch. Punch! was it punch, or was it negus, or
was it sherbet? We don't know, but it was a pleasant, moderately
exhilarating beverage, compounded of whiskey, raspberry syrup, sugar,
and orange-flower water, and manufactured by Nix, as he subsequently
explained, at a cost of about thirty cents per bottle. A few little
cakes and some plates of thin, daintily cut slices of bread-and-butter
accompanied the beverages, and were handed round with them. We are great
believers in eating and drinking at all social gatherings. It is
convenient to have something to do with your mouth when you are stumped
in the way of conversation. If suddenly asked a puzzling question, or
hit in the chest with a sarcasm, what a resource is a glass of wine or
cup of coffee, in which to dip your nose whilst you collect your ideas,
or recover your breath. Besides, they give you something to do,
generally, in a small way. They afford opportunities for small
attentions, and excuses for rising from your seat, or moving from one
part of the room to the other. Added to which, wine and coffee and cakes
are nice things to take--you have the gratification of an additional
sense. Then, too, these little things are refreshing, and put you all in
good-humor. Therefore, for all these good reasons, and many more, we
insist on refreshments, and we insist, too, upon some kind of vinous
stimulant; this ice-water and doughnut business has been carried
altogether too far; had we less of it in our homes, less money would
pour into the coffers of the bar-keeper. If persons are teetotallers,
all very well; we respect their opinions, and, perhaps, decline their
invitations; but for people who have no moral scruples on the subject,
to ask you to visit them, and then insist on your drinking red-hot weak
green tea, when you are already nervous, perspire readily, have a tender
gullet, and hate the confounded stuff any way, is downright tyranny, and
the very opposite of all hospitality and true Christian charity.
However, our friend Nix held orthodox views on this question; so all
went well. By dint of helping each other to things we did want, and
offering each other things we didn't want, with the aid of a cup of
coffee for those that liked coffee, and a glass of punch for those who
liked punch, not to forget the little cakes, which came in quite handy
to nibble at occasionally, we all began to feel wonderfully at our ease,
and quite sociable. The conversation did not flag much; but once when it
showed a slight tendency to wobble, Nix set it in motion again by
introducing the subject of optical illusions in connexion with the
height of objects. After informing us that a horse's head was exactly
as long as a flour-barrel, and that a common stove-pipe hat was as broad
across the crown as it was high from the brim to the top (both of which
statements were argued pro and con), he drew our attention to the vast
difference the position of the shoulders make in a man's height. This he
illustrated by walking from the audience with his shoulders in their
natural position, until, having traversed half the length of the room,
he suddenly raised them, as represented in the accompanying sketches.
The effect was quite startling, and very ludicrous. All the male part of
the company tried their shoulders at this experiment, even down to
Freddy Nix, a little three-year-old, who, after ducking his head down on
his chest, and toddling off across the room, returned swaggering,
evidently under the impression that he had made a perfect giant of
himself by the operation.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
This was nominally a child's party, so we were to have some
_performances_. The folding-doors into the adjoining parlor were closed,
and one or two members of the company who were to be performers retired.
In a few moments the doors opened and revealed an extempore stage. The
kitchen clothes-horse, beautifully draped and decorated, formed the
background; while on a line with the foot-lights were two heads, one at
each side of the stage, intended to represent Tragedy and Comedy. They
were simply two large pumpkins with grotesque faces marked on them with
black and white paint. In less than no time a most remarkable-looking
stranger stepped forward and began to address us. Every one stared, and
wondered whence this singular-looking person could have come, for we
hardly supposed that Nix could have had him secreted in the house all
the evening for our special surprise. At last it dawned upon us, one by
one, that the individual in question was no other than Mr. Graham, a
very staid gentleman, who had been with us a moment before. The annexed
brace of sketches will show the appearance of Mr. Graham off and on the
stage. But how was this change effected? We will explain. In the first
place he had procured a narrow strip of black silk, which he had drawn
round one of his front teeth, with the two ends inside his mouth, which,
at a very short distance, looked exactly as though he had lost one of
his teeth. (A little piece of court-plaster stuck on the tooth will
answer the same purpose.) Then he had made a loop of horse-hair or grey
thread, and securing two of the ends to the lining inside his hat, had
hooked up the end of his nose with the other; in fact, he had put his
nose in a sling. This altered the character of his whole face, so that
his own wife would not have known him had she not heard him speak. He
now addressed the audience in a long, funny, showmanic rigmarole, of
which we only remember the following:
"Ladies and gentlemen, you have all heard of the Ornithorhyncus, which,
as you are aware, is a species of duck-billed Platypus. You are familiar
with the habits and appearance of the Ororo Wow; and you have listened
to the sweet notes of the Catomonsterbung; but you are entirely ignorant
of the newly-discovered creature known to scientific men as the
Long-nosed Night-Howler, or Vulgaris Pueris cum Papyrus Capitus. This
extraordinary animal is chiefly sugariverous in its diet, though it will
eat almost everything when driven by hunger. It is perfectly tame, and
will only attack human beings when it feels like it. I will now proceed
to exhibit this extraordinary creature, requesting you only not to run
pins into the animal, as it does not like that style of thing. Bring in
the Night-Howler!!"
The last words were addressed in a loud voice to an assistant outside,
who immediately appeared, leading an animal such as is represented in
the annexed cut. This monster began immediately to emit the most hideous
and unearthly noises, as became the Night-Howler. After walking round
among the audience once or twice, the Vulgaris Pueris retired behind the
curtain. The accompanying sketch will explain how the Night-Howler is
made. Beyond the boy and the boots and the brown-paper cap, all that is
wanted is a rough shawl or large fur cape. The howl is produced by means
of one or two instruments, into the construction of which we will in a
future chapter initiate our readers. With one of these instruments the
most varied tones may be produced, from the grunt of the hog to the most
delicate notes of the canary.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
The performance now proceeded: the second act being some feats of
strength by one of our party who had the necessary physical ability for
that kind of display. These embraced the following programme, each feat
being announced by Mr. Showman with some extravagantly pompous title:
Balancing chair on chin.
Holding child three years old at arm's length.
Lying with the head on one chair and the heels on another without any
intermediate support, and in this position allowing an apparently heavy
but really light trunk to be placed on his chest.
The whole wound up by his dancing a negro breakdown to imitation
banjo[1] on the piano, the entire audience patting Juba.
[1] Should any of our friends not know how to produce an imitation
of the banjo on a piano, we may as well inform them that it is
done by simply laying a sheet of music over the strings during
the performance.
Now another performer appeared on the stage, dressed in extravagant
imitation of the one who had preceded him, and commenced parodying in a
still more extravagant style all the motions of the professional
acrobat. We expected something grand! After innumerable flourishes he
brought forward a small three-pound dumb-bell, laid it on the floor,
and, bowing meekly to the audience in different parts of the house, he
stooped down as though about to make an immense muscular effort,
grasped the dumb-bell, slowly stretched it forth at arm's length, held
it there a second or two, and then laid it down again, made a little
flourish with his hands, and a low bow, just as they do in the circus
after achieving something extra fine. In this way the performer went on
burlesquing till we all roared with laughter. When he had retired, a
conjuror appeared and exhibited numerous tricks, such as the ring trick,
tricks with hat and dice, cup and ball, etc.; but as all these need
machinery, we will not describe them at present. One or two, however, we
may explain. No. 1. The performer presented a pack of cards to one of
the audience and begged him to select a card; this the performer then
took in his own hand, and carried it with its face downward, so that he
could not see it, and placed in the middle of the floor of the stage; he
then produced a large brown-paper cone, and placed it over the card, and
commenced talking to the audience, telling them what he could do and
what he could not do: finally he informed the audience that he could
make that card pass to any place he or they chose to name. Where would
they have it? One said one place, one another, till finally he pretended
reluctantly to accede to one particularly importunate person's wishes,
and declared that it should be found in the leaves of a certain book on
a certain table at the back of the audience--and there it was, sure
enough. This was done by having a piece of waxed paper attached to a
thread lying ready in the middle of the floor; on this waxed paper the
conjuror pressed the card, the thread being carried out under the screen
at the back, where stood a confederate, who quietly pulled the card out
from under the cone, and while the conjuror was talking he walked round,
entered by another door, and placed the card in the book, where it was
subsequently found.
Another trick consisted in his allowing a person to draw a card which he
was requested to examine carefully, and even to mark slightly with a
pencil. While the spectator was doing this, the performer turned round
the pack in his hand so as to have all the faces of the cards upwards
except the top one, which showed its back; he then desired that the card
might be slipped anywhere into the pack; he then shuffled them well. Of
course, on inspecting the pack he soon detected the selected card, it
being the only one with its face down, which, after various
manipulations, putting under cones and what not, he returned to the
audience much to their surprise.
These efforts at legerdemain were certainly not very brilliant, but they
amused the audience and were easy to do. We should like to give a few
more of his simple tricks, but with one illusion-trick we will close the
chapter, for which purpose it will serve, as it formed the _finale_ to
the conjuror's performance.
He stepped forward and said:
"I have shown you many wonderful things, but they are as nothing
compared to what I can do. My supernatural power is such that I can
lengthen or compress the human frame to any extent I please. You doubt
it? Well, I will show you. You see Mr. Smith, yonder; he is a rather
tall man; six feet two, I should judge? Well, I will throw him into a
trance, and while he is in that state, I will squeeze him down to a
length of about three feet, and I will have him carried to you in that
condition. I must only insist upon one thing, and that is, that you do
not say _hokey pokey winkey fumm_ while he is in the trance; for if you
do it might wake him up, and then he would be fixed at the height of
three feet for the rest of his life; I could never stretch him out
again."
Mr. Smith was requested to step behind the curtain. He walked forward,
pale but firm and collected. Soon after he had disappeared we heard
strange noises and fearful incantations, accompanied by a slight smell
of brimstone and a strong smell of peppermint. After a few minutes the
tall Mr. Smith was carried in on the shoulders of two men a perfect
dwarf, as promised by the conjuror, and as represented in the following
cut.
[Illustration]
How this is managed will become tolerably clear to the reader on
examining the next diagram.
The tall Mr. S. had put a pair of boots on his hands, a roll of sheeting
round his neck, so as to form something resembling a pillow, behind his
head; then something on his arms under his chin to represent his chest
(which is not shown in the diagram), and over that a baby's
cradle-quilt, and then he rested his boots on another gentleman's
shoulders; two long sticks were provided and slung as represented, and
the miracle was complete. We have seen the figure lengthened to an
inordinate extent by the same process, the only difference being that
the gentlemen were further apart.
[Illustration]
Mr. Nix's party concluded, after several other games and amusements,
with a neat but inexpensive entertainment, consisting of sandwiches,
sardines, cold chicken, cakes, oranges, apples, nuts, candies, punch,
negus, and lemonade. But everything was good of its kind; the sandwiches
were sandwiches, and not merely two huge slices of bread plastered with
butter, concealing an irregular piece of sinew and fat, which in vain
you try to sever with your teeth, till you find yourself obliged to
drop the end out of your mouth, or else to pull the whole piece of meat
out from between the bread, and allow it to hang on your chin till you
cram it all into your mouth at once. His were not sandwiches of that
kind, but, as we said before, sandwiches; the cakes had plenty of sugar
in them, and so had the lemonade. But, above all, what made these little
trifles the most enjoyable was the taste displayed by _some one_ in the
decoration of the table with a few evergreens, some white roses made out
of turnip, and red roses out of beets, not to mention marigolds that
once were carrots, nor the crisp frills of white paper which surrounded
the large round cakes, nor the green leaves under the sandwiches, the
abundance of snowy linen, shining knives and forks, and spoons. But we
must conclude; what we wish particularly to impress upon the minds of
our readers by thus _dwelling on sandwiches and fine linen_ is, that you
cannot afford to ignore one sense while you propose to gratify another;
they are all intimately related and bound together like members of a
fire company; if you offend one, all the others take it up.