A few days ago when the blistering sun had converted the whole of New
York city into one vast bake-oven, Nix called at our office, and
proposed a flying trip to a certain watering-place. We will not mention
its name for fear of incurring the suspicion of writing puffs. It was,
however, sufficiently unfashionable to be tolerably comfortable. In
order to reach our destination we took an early steamboat, leaving New
York at six o'clock in the morning. With what intense satisfaction we
became conscious of possessing lungs as we inhaled the cool air which
had been washing itself all night in the great waves of the Atlantic
ocean, or sleeping among the pine-woods of Delaware and New Jersey.
There is nothing surely which makes one feel more grateful for the gift
of life than to breathe the early morning air, laden with the perfume
of salt-water. On this occasion the bracing atmosphere gave a relish to
everything. The crisp broiled ham, the clam-fritters, and even the
miserable coffee we had for breakfast on board, all tasted like food
worthy of the gods. And as for our cigars (genuine Havanas) which
followed the meal, their incense fairly sent us up to the seventh heaven
of delight. But our business is to write on the _Art of Amusing_, and
although an early steamboat trip may be one of the most enjoyable of
things, it scarcely comes within the sphere of our work.
When we arrived at the hotel, we found the lady guests were in process
of organizing a fair for the benefit of the sufferers by the great
Portland fire.
Nix rushed into the enterprise with his usual enthusiasm; and by that
evening, when the fair commenced, had fully qualified himself to start
in business as a Three-sticks-a-penny-man. This plebeian pastime he had
picked up at some English race or fair he had once visited, and now
attempted with considerable success to acclimatize in America. His first
step was to go to the village store and purchase a number of penknives,
jack-knives, pincushions, tobacco-boxes, and similar contraptions. His
second care was to cut half-a-dozen hickory-sticks or wands, of about
four feet six inches in length, and of the thickness of your middle
finger--that is, if you are blest with as spacious a paw as ourself; if
not, we feel at a loss how to convey to your mind an approximate idea of
the measurement. But suppose you take any healthy Irish day-laborer, and
make his third finger the standard, not the part where the knobs are,
but the spaces between them. Well, Nix cut six sticks of about the
thickness of a healthy Irish day-laborer's third finger, in the spaces
between the joints or knobs. He then cut a dozen other sticks of about
the thickness of anybody's wrist, and about two feet long. Good! When he
wished to commence operations on the fair-ground he selected a piece of
level turf, and on one side of it dug six holes about the size of the
late Daniel Webster's hat; these holes he half filled with sand, and in
the centre of every hole he then stuck one of the sticks of _about_ the
thickness of a healthy Irish, etc., etc. Then on the top of each stick
he balanced a jack-knife, pin-cushion, or some other object of more or
less value. Now all his preparations were completed. He was prepared to
receive customers. Standing in a commanding attitude, at a distance of
about thirty feet from the arrangement we have described, he cried out
in truly English style:
"Now, ladies and gents, ere yer are--three sticks a penny. Any lady or
gent wishin to make a immediate fortin, and marry the being of his art
on the result, have only to invest a few dollars in my establishment,
and he will retire wealthy in arf a nour. Here, ladies and gents, look
at these ere sticks" (holding up one of the clubs about the thickness of
anybody's wrist), "hall you ave to do is to throw one of these ere at
them there" (pointing to the pincushions, etc.); "hany article you knock
orf is yourn, provided it don't fall inter the ole. Now, all I charge
you for the priviledge orf throwin' three of these sticks, is the
radicerlously small sum of ten cents. You are sure to win five dollars
each time. Now, walk up; walk up, and take yer chance, and make yer
everlastin fortin; marry the hobject of yer haffections, and build yer
pallatial willa on the Udson."
Here a courageous youth stepped up, examined the whole arrangement
minutely, and concluded to invest ten cents. Fortunately for Nix and the
cause this youth knocked off a dollar jack-knife at the first throw. The
consequence was an immense rush of patronage; indeed, the sport became
so exciting that two similar establishments could have been kept in
active operation. As it was, Nix cleared fifty-four dollars over and
above all expenses for the good of the fair, and the benefit of the poor
folks of Portland.
One of Nix's most profitable customers was a good-natured flashy young
man of the wholesale dry-goods pattern, who appeared each day in some
new shade of mustard-colored clothing, from the delicate yellow of
freshly mixed pure Durham to the rich tones of stale German. He told us
in confidence that he had intended to go to Saratoga, but the _old
gentleman_ and _old lady_ (his father and mother) had insisted on his
coming down with them to "this d----d hole;" then, suddenly recollecting
that we had all probably come from chance, he added:
"Oh, this is a very nice place; first-rate; I don't say anything about
that, only I had a party of friends going up to Saratoga, and they'll
expect me; they know there's always fun going on where I am. It don't
make any difference to me whether I spend fifty dollars or five hundred.
I'm bound to have a good time. I appreciate anything; tha's--anything,
you know--tha's got any wit into it, you know. Well, you know, there are
some people who ain't got any idea; don't seem to appreciate, you know.
Now, when I saw you throwin' sticks, well, I piled right in; I didn't
care about it, of course, only I saw what you were doing it for, and I
didn't care. Some people would think it awful vulgar, you know, but I
don't care; that's the sort of man I am. Perhaps I shouldn't have liked
some of my aristocratic lady friends to have seen me; but then down
here, you know. Oh, I'd just as lief have given the money to the fair;
I'd spent thirty dollars before in slippers and things, and then gave
'em back. I didn't want 'em, you know, only I like to see things lively;
there's bound to be fun when I'm round."
However, we will not follow our good-natured friend through his long
monologue of refined egotism; we merely introduced him because he showed
us a variety of tricks, two of which we think worth recording in our
book on amusements. On the morning after the fair, Nix and ourself, in
company with the mustard-colored aristocrat, took a bath in the ocean.
The aristocrat appeared in the water attired in a sumptuous bathing
dress, smoking a cigar which he told us cost $800 per thousand; which,
he frankly confessed, he thought too high a price for a man to pay for
cigars in these times. He further stated that he relished smoking in the
water very much. To our inquiry whether there was no danger of the waves
putting it out, he replied by informing us that he could dive under
water with a lighted cigar in his mouth without extinguishing it.
"D'you see that boat there?" he said, pointing to a small scow about a
hundred and fifty yards distant. "Well, I will dive under that; you
watch me, and you will see me come up." We thought there must be some
hoax in the matter, and so kept a strict eye upon his movements. He swam
out to the craft, gave a plunge and a kick, after the manner of ducks in
a pond, disappeared, and came up on the other side, calmly puffing his
weed. Never having seen or heard of the feat before, Nix and ourself
were what the ancient Greeks used to call _flabbergasterd_. When he had
enjoyed his triumph and our bewilderment for a few minutes, he showed us
how it was done; simply by putting the lighted end of the cigar in his
mouth just before going under water, that was all. He added: "I will
show you something better if you will come up to the shooting-gallery
after we get through bathing. Did you ever see a man ring the bell with
his back to the target?"
Arrived at the shooting-gallery, our young friend procured a mirror
which he hung on the wall opposite the target, then placing himself in
front of the former, with his back to the latter, he held the pistol
over his shoulder and took aim, looking at the image of the pistol in
the glass as if it were the pistol itself; that is, in such a manner
that the reflection of the object was covered by the reflection of the
pistol; he then fired, and came within an inch of the bull's-eye.
When we got back to the hotel he amused us by setting fire to a glass of
alcohol with a burning glass. He placed a silver dollar (a red cent
would have answered as well) in the spirit, and then directed the rays
of the sun through the burning-glass on the metal; in an instant the
liquid was all ablaze.
In the afternoon this same youth called us all to enjoy a trick he had
played upon the _old gentleman_.
The _old gentleman_, it appeared, was engaged in reading Macaulay's
History of England, and like a methodical old gentleman, whenever he
laid down the book, marked the place where he left off. On the day in
question his son had abstracted his book from its accustomed place, and
painted on the page following the one he was, reading a very excellent
imitation of a fly. At his usual hour the old gentleman was seen to put
on his spectacles, and take up the book; all those in the secret were of
course on hand; presently he came to the passage on which appeared the
counterfeit fly; the old gentleman shook the book, but the fly stirred
not; then he blew at it; then he laid down the volume, and deliberately
taking out his handkerchief, made a pass at the offending insect with
that weapon, replaced his handkerchief, settled his glasses, took up
the book again, but to his utter surprise the fly still remained. A
light seemed now to dawn on him--the fly had got crushed between the
leaves--so he essayed to remove it with his finger-nail; here his
hopeful offspring could stand it no longer, and burst into a roar of
laughter, in which several others joined. When the joke was explained to
the worthy victim, he said: "Now, that's very good, isn't it; very good.
I made sure it was a real fly, as true as you live. Look here, wife;
look at this, some of Master Tom's doing; good, ain't it; as true as you
live, that's a fact. Ah! Ha!"[7]
[7] We have since seen a somewhat similar trick played by painting
a fly on the face of a watch or inside the glass.
Later in the evening Young Hopeful horrified a circle of ladies by
discovering at their feet a huge spider; in the midst of their shrieks
and exclamations a courageous gentleman with large whiskers stepped
forward to crush the intruder, raised his foot, and brought it down
firmly, but staggered back astounded--the creature had exploded with a
loud report, conveying an idea of vindictiveness and power truly
appalling. The young gentleman took us aside and explained the mystery,
at the same time producing from his pocket a small box containing some
half-dozen similar spiders.
"I have them made on purpose for me," he said. "A German porter in our
store first put me up to it, and I told him to set to work and make me
as many as he liked, and charge me any price he chose. I tell ye, that
Dutchman thinks I'm a great boy. I pay him about five dollars a week for
spiders; well, you know, that's a good deal for a man like him; only
gets twelve dollars a week in the store."
We examined the specimen carefully, and found it was constructed very
much on the plan of the torpedoes used by children on the Fourth of
July; only the paper was brown and a little thicker, and there were legs
of fine wire attached, which gave it a very lifelike and spidery
appearance. The Dutchman had evidently gone into the matter _con amore_,
for he had taken the pains to wash some of his specimens with gum, and
then sprinkle them with wool-dust to produce the appearance of what are
called hairy spiders. About one-third of a grain of fulminating silver
produces the explosion in each. They are very easily made.
As we steamed back to the great city of New York next day, Nix said he
thought we had made a very good investment of three red-hot days of
mid-summer time. We thought so, too.