A certain young lady with whom we are acquainted has discovered a new
art, which seems to absorb a great portion of her being. It is a method
by which almost anything may be transmuted into coral. The consequence
of this discovery is that the English-basement house in which the maid
in question dwells, is converted into a perfect mermaid's grotto. We
told her so the other day, since which she has called us her Triton; and
further intimated that in order to preserve the fitness of things, we
might invite her to an oyster supper at Delmonico's. This hint we took
with the avidity of a pickerel; but alas for the fickleness of woman,
and our visions of marine happiness, the damsel changed her position and
absolutely declined accepting our hospitality, even to the extent of a
shrimp.
It is marvellous what very poor jokes afford rich amusement, when they
are passed amongst intimate friends. When we called the lady in
question, South Coral-ina, every one present seemed quite amused; indeed
only one person, an obnoxious individual with large whiskers, seemed to
resent it at all:--but now that the title by frequent repetition has
assumed the character of a nickname, it is always received as an
exquisite piece of humor. Numerous ramifications of this subject afford
us endless themes for badinage.
We profess to ridicule the idea that involuntary servitude is abolished,
when South Coral-ina holds ourselves and so many others in slavery. She
retorts by calling us Neptune, and asking after the telegraph cable.
When this badinage had been going on for some time, our friend Nix
played quite a pretty hoax on the ladies. He arrived one evening with a
somewhat dirty-looking basket on his arm filled with oysters. This was
rather an inelegant thing to bring into the parlor, and naturally
excited some surprise; but when he began to take out the grimy-looking
bivalves, and one by one, hand them round to the ladies, there was a
commotion bordering on indignation; the first lady declined to receive
so plebeian a gift, whereupon Nix took a penknife from his pocket and
opened it; revealing the inside lined with rich velvet, and bearing
some trinket made of gold and pearls. This was in payment of a bet of an
oyster supper which he had playfully made with and purposely lost to one
of the ladies.
But to revert to our Coral. We often aided the fair mermaid in her
manufactures, making sprays of coral nearly as large as in currant
bushes, coral walking-canes, coral ear-rings, pen racks, paper weights,
and other useful articles. We converted into coral--walnuts, small
mud-turtles, birds' claws, sea-shells, and indeed almost everything on
which we could lay our hands. Finally we took paterfamilias' felt hat
one night and gave it a couple of coats of scarlet varnish, much to the
astonishment of that good gentleman when he wished to put it on next
morning.
The mode of making these coral ornaments is, of course, very simple;
otherwise it would not find a place in this book:
RECEIPT.
To two drachms of fine vermilion, add one ounce of clear resin, and melt
them together; paint the object with this mixture while hot, and then
hold it over a gentle fire till it is perfectly covered and smooth.
To make sprays of coral you should procure some twigs of thorn; peel and
dry, before painting with the varnish.
The Nix gift of pearls has set all the ladies to work on a new
idea--painting pictures in oil-colors on the inside of oyster shells;
these are mostly marine subjects where the natural hues of the shell
supply the requisite tints for the clouds and water. One of these little
works represented a fish, where the sheen of the mother-of-pearl gave a
marvellously natural effect to the scales and gills.
They have also taken to making pictures on egg-shells in water-colors,
which are very pretty. One egg they tattooed all over with pen-and-ink
arabesque, and emblazoned with crimson and gold. It looks very handsome,
though possibly of not quite so much practical use as a locomotive or a
reaping-machine. Still, let us always remember that quotation from
Goethe:
"_Encourage the beautiful, the useful will take care of itself!_"
To which we might add a paraphrase of our own:
"Encourage the amusing, the dreary will take care of itself."
For our own part we have serious ideas of organizing a SOCIETY FOR THE
ENCOURAGEMENT OF AMUSEMENT. We firmly believe that judicious and
rational amusement tends more to make men _healthy_, _wealthy_, _and
wise_, than ever did early rising, for which, nevertheless, we have
profoundest respect.