[Illustration]
Folly is better than physic. If no one ever made this aphorism before,
we at once lay claim to and include it in our copyright; entered
according to act of Congress in the clerk's office, and all the rest of
it. A good old-fashioned time we had of it last Christmas evening at the
house of our friend Nix. What a happy, merry, jolly crowd of noodles,
ninnies, judies, tomfools, and undignified people we were to be sure!
Nix gave himself unheard-of moustaches and eyebrows with India-ink, and
then washed himself into the likeness of a boss chimney-sweep, in which
condition he remained the whole evening, and came to business the next
day with a faint tinge of the dusty pigment under his left ear, although
he averred that he had parboiled himself over night with scalding soap
and water in honest efforts to remove the oriental stain.
At this distance of time it would be hard to recall who were the guests
at this tomfool's festival, even had we ever known them all; but a
fluttering of little faces and pink sashes, and very bunchy frocks
suggestive of new crinoline--indeed, now we think of it, one _wee_ thing
told us emphatically she had on a "noo hoop-stirt," and raised her short
red frock to show us the inestimable treasure; and that again reminds us
of another toddler, of the masculine persuasion, who thrice called our
attention to his new boots, and once requested us to feel the soles
where his mother had scratched them with her scissors to prevent his
slipping on the carpets. But, as we were saying, a certain confused
picture of fluttering pink sashes, bunchy crinoline, blue eyes, and
flushed cheeks, is one of the _chefs-d'oeuvre_ in the private gallery
of our memory, and was nearly all we carried away from that foolish
Christmas carnival. We remember, though, Aunty Delluvian, in all the
pomp, pride, and circumstance of a dress which might have been described
by some fashionable _modiste_ of fifty years ago, but before which the
steel nibs of a modern pen grow parched and gape inkless in their course
over the _cream laid_. We can state that it was of silk, and very thick,
and rustled, and had an odor, not of myrrh--for that we have purchased
at the drug stores as being good for the gums--though perhaps of
frankincense, but certainly of some Eastern perfume; and there our
descriptive capacity ends. Concerning certain gems and trinkets, also
worn by that worthy lady, we are equally humble and bewildered; but if
our memory serves us rightly, they were chiefly of pale and yellow
stones surrounded by pearls, and of oval and slender forms, save one
sombre brooch (she wore in the neck of her dress under a bow of ribbon),
which has hair in it, and was shown us as a rare piece of workmanship
and a great relic; indeed, Aunty Delluvian informed us, very
confidentially, that a person by the name of Sally Mason would have
given her ears to possess it once--from which we judged it to be of
great value.
The scientific gentleman was there; and others "too numerous to
mention," as the advertisements say. One of the company, whom we had
never met before, left a particular impression on our mind, partly
because he came from a far-off land, with a large budget of strange
knowledge and exotic ideas, and partly because he showed us a quite
curious and simple little toy. Among other things he expatiated on the
dexterity of the Australasian savages in the use of the boomerang, which
they would throw in such a way as to make it skim entirely around a
house and return to their feet. He told us that one of these savages
would seize his boomerang and send it whirling into a flock of parrots,
bringing down half a dozen of the birds, and then return to his feet. He
added that parrot-pie was excellent eating; a statement which sent a
thrill of indignation through the juvenile portion of the company. The
idea of cooking birds that say "Pretty Poll!" While the young were
indignant, many of the elders felt incredulous, touching the boomerang;
one person, indeed, delicately hinting that "throwing the boomerang"
must be the Australasian equivalent of our expression "pulling the long
bow;" but Aunty Delluvian, who had just heard the latter part of the
discourse, came gallantly to the rescue (she had taken rather a _notion_
to the young Australian). She assured the company that there could be
no doubt of the existence of the boomerang, for an uncle of hers had on
a certain occasion brought one from China, and that it grew so tame that
it would come and feed out of your hand. This statement, as may be
supposed, produced a profound sensation, which good breeding alone
prevented from being an explosion. Several persons present tried to hush
the matter up by suggesting that the good lady probably confounded the
instrument in question with a baboon or orang-outang. But Aunty
Delluvian would listen to nothing of the kind; _no compromises for her_.
"Bless the child, she had seen it with her own eyes, and it went all
round the house and came back to her feet, and caught the pigeon, and
killed the parrot, just as the gentleman described." However, the young
antipodean asserted his own veracity very effectively by offering to
manufacture a model of the weapon then and there.
"If you will only provide me," he said, "with a good stiff card--an old
playing-card will do as well as anything--I will soon satisfy you that
what I described _can_ be done."
The card was produced, and in a couple of minutes he had with a pair of
scissors clipped out a piece of the size and shape of the subjoined
diagram. He then borrowed a book and a lead pencil, and placed the
miniature boomerang on the former, with one end projecting over the edge
of the book about an inch. He then took the book in his left hand, and
holding it at a slight angle as represented in the diagram, page 119,
struck the projecting end a smart blow with the pencil. This sent it
whirling through the air towards the opposite corner of the ceiling,
which it nearly though not quite reached--then it came fluttering back
to the very feet of the performer. This operation was repeated several
times with almost universal applause, the only dissentient voice being
that of a little shaver of five, who wanted to see the parrots come
down.
[Illustration]
About this time it became evident that some mysterious preparations
were being made outside. A good deal of whispering occurred, and Nix,
with one or two others, disappeared from the apartment. We, in the
meantime, amused ourselves with sundry time-honored experiments. First
came an optical illusion-trick, the fun of which consisted in the futile
efforts of several persons to knock a cork off a fork with the
fore-finger; and is performed thus: A steel fork, or some other sharp
instrument, is stuck in the door, and a cork placed on the end of it.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
The person wishing to test his skill places himself in front of it;
fixing his eyes on the cork, he then walks slowly backwards ten or
twelve feet, his eyes still fixed on the cork; having done which, he
extends his right hand, closes an eye, and advances towards the cork,
till he thinks he has reached near enough to knock the cork from its
position with one blow of the finger. Nine times out of ten the
performers fail, as they did on the occasion in question. This
experiment seemed to afford a good excuse to a certain little witch,
with black eyes, to propose the performance of pinning a thimbleful of
water to the wall. The thimble was filled with water, a pin borrowed,
and mademoiselle, escorted by her cavalier--a young gentleman in
patent-leather boots, and breathing incense from every curl of his hair,
and from every part of his dress, to a degree calculated to drive Phalon
mad and ruin the reputation of Arabia. Escorted by this exquisite
being, the young lady repaired to the spot selected for the experiment;
but, alas! just as she was about to fix the thimble to the wall the pin
dropped to the floor. In an instant the perfumed gallant was on his
knees searching for the lost article, and with equal promptitude the
treacherous belle had emptied the water on his fragrant pate, amid the
roars of laughter of those around--for in this consisted the trick.
While we were still laughing the door opened, and Nix entered, somewhat
flushed, and with a comical frown on his brow.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he began, "I have a serious complaint to
make--really it is too bad. Upon my life it is. I think Miss Mary Fenn
and Miss Julia Farley, and several of the other young ladies, ought to
be spoken to" (the ladies mentioned and several others here colored up
and looked rather scared). "I think they ought to be very seriously
spoken to, going round in this reckless way. Why, upon my life, there's
no knowing what may happen--and they don't care one bit. They care no
more for a fellow-creature than I do for a fly. Ah! (with a sigh) there
is one feller-creature which I wish they would think a little more of.
In common honesty they ought to do something to their eyes--wear
spectacles, or something of that sort; and for their lips, since nature
has seen fit not to provide them with moustaches, they might use
respirators or--or--or--well, something has to be done, or there won't
be a sane man in the neighborhood. I myself have a severe pain in my
left side; and here, when I go outside--I don't mean the left side, but
outside the room--for a little temporary relief, I find a poor fellow
maimed, probably for life--his head completely turned."
At this point a figure resembling the opposite sketch walks in, and
declares that he would not have his head turned back for the world; on
the contrary, he finds his present position far more comfortable than
any other, etc., etc., etc.
[Illustration]
The construction of this figure is so simple that it seems almost
superfluous to explain it. The person performing it puts on a loose coat
and vest, wrong side foremost, fastens a false face to the back of his
head, and a wig over his face, and the whole is complete. The wig may be
made of curled hair from an old mattress, sewed on to a black silk cap.
By the way, while we are on the subject, we may as well say a word or
two more concerning this curled hair, which will be found very useful
for amateur theatricals. With a handful of this cheap material (the
imitation or grass substitute will answer just as well), you can make
beards, whiskers, and moustaches of any desired shape. All that is
required is to twist, stretch, or mould the tangled mass into the
desired shape, and then, in the proper place, stick on a small piece of
diachylon, and the appendage is ready for use. The diachylon can be
purchased in lump form of any druggist. In order to adhere it to the
face, it should be slightly warmed before the fire.
"Why, bless my soul alive, if the poor fellow's head isn't turned!"
exclaimed Aunty Delluvian, in unfeigned surprise. "Well, some foolish
fellows do get their heads turned by the girls," and the good old lady
laughed heartily, honestly believing she had made a joke. Indeed, she
patted us on the knee to draw our attention, as she added, in an
explanatory way:
"You know, when I was a girl, and any young fellow fell in love with one
of the girls, we used to say his head was turned; so I say that young
man's head is turned--don't you see!" and again the old lady went off in
a transport of merriment at her own wit. But in a moment it was over,
and when we turned there was something glistening in her eye, as she
looked dreamily before her out of that Christmas-day away off,
doubtless, to some other Christmas-day when young men had their heads
turned by designing young women. But there was no time for reverie; for
Nix, who had assumed the position of showman, now made himself heard,
bellowing through his nose:
"Now, ladies and gentleman, I will proceed to show you a highly moral
exhibition, some of the four-footed works of nature, or, as they are
commonly called, quadrupedals. This exhibition, by calling the mind to
contemplate the works of nature, elevates the soul to things above, and
makes us all better fathers, husbands, wives, sweethearts, sons, and
girls to do general housework. Now, ladies and gentlemen, I would ask
you who, after contemplating the rhinoceros, would fail to return home a
more dutiful parent or respectful sweetheart? But, to step from the
realms of fancy to the practical regions of fact, I will proceed to
interdooce to you that splendid anumile Saladin, the royal Bengal tiger,
from Botteny Bay, in the West Injees. This wonderful creature measures
sixteen feet from the tip of the tail to the tip of the snout, and
sixteen feet from the tip of the snout to the tip of the tail, making in
all thirty-two feet."
[Illustration]
At this point of his oration the showman paused, opened the door, and
gave a loud whistle, when in scampered a creature more easily sketched
than described. At first we did not recognise the stub-tailed
bull-terrier Snap, so completely was he disguised and bestriped with
black paint, more to resemble a zebra, however, than a tiger. Snap, all
unconscious of his new character, began frisking and capering round,
wagging his tail _vociferously_, as Nix expressed it.
"This beautiful but terrible creature," continued Nix, "is exquisitely
marked by nature. His, however, are not good-conduct marks, for, in his
native wilds, his behavior is anything but proper. He will devour
anything that comes in his way, having been known, when pressed by
hunger, to eat even an alderman. Such being the nature of the beast, I
will now proceed to show you a more amiable specimen of this moral
exhibition. This, ladies and gentlemen, is the largest of all animals.
It belongs to Asia and Africa. We have no elephants, naturally, in
America, any more than we have Irishmen. They are all imported at great
expense, two ships being required to bring over each creature, one for
himself, and one for his trunk, I believe."
Enter elephant (adjoining page).
"The elephant lives chiefly on ginger-snaps, sugar, rice, and cayenne
pepper, which, at the present price of groceries, makes his board come
rather heavy. You have all heard of the sagacity of the elephant--how
he squirted the dirty water over that injudicious tailor who ran his
needle into the elephant's trunk. But, ladies and gentlemen, I was
witness to a more singular instance of intelligence on the part of this
elephant here, which is, perhaps, the largest of its kind ever imported
to this country. While passing through the streets of one of our inland
towns during the late election, this very anumile seized a slip of paper
from one of the crowd, rushed up to the polls, and actually voted the
Union ticket before we knew what he was about."
[Illustration: HOW TO MAKE AN ELEPHANT. _See page 126._]
In this strain Nix continued for some time, while the elephant walked
round the room. Little boys were mounted on his back for a ride, and
enjoyed the fun hugely.
The scientific gentleman with gold spectacles threw a temporary damper
on the merriment by asking, in a sombre voice, whether we knew how many
times round the elephant's foot was equal to his height, and then
equally solemnly informing us that it was "Twice." Having said "twice!"
very emphatically, he became silent, and the fun went on.
Now comes the question--How was the elephant made? A glance at the
annexed picture will throw considerable light on the subject at once.
Here we have the usual human substratum. Two gentlemen, wearing rubbers,
place themselves in the position represented, while the foremost one
holds something in his hands. This is a grey shawl or table-cover,
rolled up to represent the elephant's trunk, which the performer swings
about to produce a life-like effect. All that now remains to be done is
to procure another grey shawl and spread it over the united operators,
fastening two pieces of round paper, with black dots on them, in the
proper places, for eyes, and a couple of rags or old gloves for ears.
The elephant is now complete, save the tusks. These can be made out of
long pieces of twisted white paper, pinned to the inside of the shawl,
and there you have a first-rate elephant for a small tea-party. Dish,
and serve up with lots of _sass_, as the cookery books say. But let us
listen to Nix; he is spouting some more nonsense:
"Ladies and gentlemen: This elephant was captured and imported into this
country by a Bengal officer, Colonel Gurramuchy, whom I shall have much
pleasure in introducing to you. You have all heard of Cumming--well, he
is coming."
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
Here entered the most extraordinary being we had ever beheld; a very
military-looking person, with a very small head and an exceedingly long
neck. However, refer to the illustration, where you see him faithfully
portrayed. Following him was an equally singular person, who was
presented to us as Captain Dawk, a particular friend of the Colonel's,
whose portrait we likewise subjoin. These gentlemen chatted with Nix,
and told us one or two of their hunting adventures--the most extravagant
yarns. We have only space for one, which we shall condense as much as
possible. Captain Dawk once, while hunting the wild boar in India, had
the misfortune to have his horse ripped open by the tusks of the
infuriated beast. His horse of course fell heavily, and died almost
immediately. While he was standing at the side of the poor creature,
deploring his loss, and wondering how he should ever reach home, he
beheld at some distance from him, on the open plain, a huge tiger
approaching. There was no tree within miles; to run away would have been
useless; he at once bethought himself of an idea. Seizing his
hunting-knife, he rapidly removed the internals of the horse, and crept
into the cavity himself. The tiger, on coming up, seized the horse by
the neck, and dragged it several miles to its den in the jungle, where
it commenced at once to feast upon the carcass. Watching a favorable
opportunity, when the tiger had eaten a hole in the horse's side,
Captain Dawk drew a small revolver from his pocket, and shot the animal
dead. He was just in the act of crawling from his place of concealment
when he beheld five more tigers approaching. Four of these he shot one
after the other from inside the horse, and then all his ammunition was
exhausted, and one tiger was left alive; but, drawing his knife, he
resolved to sell his life dearly. Here the Captain gave us a most
harrowing account of his encounter with the last tiger, which was larger
than any of the others. First it broke both his legs, then his arms,
then his back, and finally the ferocious beast got the officer's head
into its mouth--but to conclude in his own words: "I felt the hot breath
in my face, the sharp teeth pressing both sides of my skull. In another
instant I felt all would be over, and my worst fears were realized. With
one gripe the wretched brute bit off my head, and then tearing me limb
from limb, devoured me on the spot." This story was pronounced a
stunner.
But how were these extraordinary faces produced? First, we will refer
our readers to the diagram, which will explain a good deal, and then
throw what light we can on the subject with words.
The face of the Colonel was made by painting an entire set of features
on the forehead with India-ink. The white of the eyes in both cases was
effected by wetting the finger and rubbing it on an enamelled
visiting-card; by this means you take a good deal of the white from the
card which can be transferred to the proper place on the forehead. In
the case of the Colonel, if the performer moves his eyebrows up and down
as he is speaking, it will communicate a motion to the pointed
moustaches, and a most comical expression to the entire face.
[Illustration]
To make the second face, you must, if possible, get some one with very
light eyebrows and no moustaches; then paint eyes and eyebrows on the
forehead, which must be done artistically, shadows and all, and connect
them, as represented, with the bridge of the nose, paint heavy black
moustaches, and your performer will have the appearance of possessing
an immensely long face; he must, however, keep his eyes shut, or the
illusion will be dispelled.
After this performance, the scene, as painted on our memory, resolves
itself into blue eyes, pink ribbons, bunchy skirts, oranges, candies,
lemonades, wax-lights, Christmas-trees, Aunty Delluvian, and endless
smiling faces.
May all good people have as foolish, merry a Christmas as we had at
Aunty Delluvian's!