_Boisterous Humour and Horseplay Wit.--A Dinner at the Clover
Club of Philadelphia.--Other "Gridiron" Clubs._
Humour only springs in simple, unaffected characters. You find it in the
well-bred Scotch. It overflows in the American, who is the prince of
good fellows.
The Americans are so good at taking a joke, so good-tempered that, even
in public, they enjoy to banter each other and serve as butts for each
other's sarcasms: it is on these occasions that American humour is
allowed free play. There are even "Gridiron Clubs"--clubs where guests
are invited only to be put on the grill.
The most famous of these is the Clover Club at Philadelphia. Outside
Paradise, there is no place where men are treated with so little regard
to their rank. The members of the Clover Club are no respecters of
persons. Nothing is sacred for them; age or position count for naught in
their assemblies.
The club is composed of the principal journalists of Philadelphia. Once
a year they ask to their table about fifty guests--people talked about;
the President of the United States himself has an invitation, if he
cares to submit himself to the "grilling" process.[8]
[8] Mr. Grover Cleveland has been through it.
The banquet is princely; the _menu_ most _recherche_.
But let us take a peep at the proceedings.
The president of the club, Mr. Handy, an American brimming over with
wit, takes his place at the head of the table, and the feast begins.
Choice dishes follow one another, and are washed down with choice wines.
Conversation flows, and faces light up. An orchestra, placed in a
neighbouring room, makes pleasant subdued music. The guests begin to
think over the speeches they will soon be called upon to deliver--you
recognise them by their white faces; the Cloverites quietly sharpen
their weapons for the fray. Presently comes the dessert. The President
strikes two or three little blows upon the table, and rises. Now for it!
Now for the _quart d'heure de Rabelais_!
"Gentlemen," says the President, "I have the honour to propose the first
toast of the evening. Let us fill our glasses, and drink to the
honourable member of Congress on my right. I doubt not you will push
your amiability and patience so far as to listen to his speech in
respectful silence. He will be all the more proud to have an audience
to-night, because, as we all know, when the honourable member gets up to
make a speech at Washington, the benches begin to empty by magic.
Gentlemen, give him a chance."
The Congressman takes the joke merrily, and thus commences his speech:
"Gentlemen--I mean _Members_--of the Clover Club."
The members pocket the satire with a hearty laugh.
Presently comes the turn of the second speaker. This one speaks in a
scarcely audible voice.
"Raise your voice," cry the members.
"I am sorry you cannot hear. Come nearer."
The cries of "Louder!" continue.
"If I speak _low_," replies the orator, "it is in order to get down to
your level."
This convulsed the assembly with laughter.
I was aghast.
Can it be possible, I thought, that they will stand that? The joke may
be new and funny, but surely it is being carried beyond the bounds. If
such things went on in France, one would see duels going on in all the
retired spots of the neighbourhood next morning.
The health of a third guest is proposed in terms as grotesque as the
preceding ones. This gentleman is an American, whose daughter is the
wife of a member of the English aristocracy. By the manner in which he
rises and begins to speak, it is easy to see that he is an old hand at
this kind of tournament. He begins:
"Gentlemen, when I was present at your dinner last year----"
"Last year!" cries a Cloverite; "how did you get invited again this
year, pray?"
"Oh, you know you can't do without me. You must have a few respectable
people at your table. I mix with the aristocracy, gentlemen; but, as
you see, I am not at all proud: I come and sit at meat with you. It is
not that I have the least esteem for you, but I will not have folks say
that, because I move in the society of dukes, marquises, earls----"
"Shut up! what do we care for your dukes?"
"Bah! of course there is no blue blood in you; you can't appreciate the
honour I am doing you."
The ironical laughter is deafening, but the speaker will not be baffled
of his say.
"Before I came here, I made up my mind----"
"Your WHAT?"
"My mind."
"Ha, ha!"
Here the Cloverites stamp and shout, but the speaker braves out the
storm. As a peroration, this is what he offers to his hosts:
"Gentlemen, I had prepared a speech, something refined, which you could
scarcely be supposed to appreciate. I will not cast my pearls
to----('All right, all right.') I will sit down. Perhaps next year I may
find you a little more civilised."
"Next year! No danger of your being asked, my fine fellow!"
The President rises once more.
My turn has come.
Scarcely have I said the word "Gentlemen," when a volley of shouts and
whistlings greets me.
I see that I am not going to be spared.
"Excuse me," I continued; "perhaps I had better explain to you why I
accepted your invitation. Since I am in America, I mean to study the
customs and manners of the people. With this object in view, it would
not do for me to confine myself to good society, and I have determined
to make a beginning this evening----"
"That's right," whispers my neighbour; "continue in that strain, and you
will do."
For hours the speechifying goes on, mixed with music, recitations,
songs, and anecdotes.
At two in the morning hosts and guests separate, declaring that they
have had a real "good time."
The Clover Club is a first-rate leveller.
Any man, suffering from over-cultivated self-esteem, can be supplied by
this club with wholesome physic.
* * * * *
There exist many other clubs of this kind, where the hospitality
consists of getting amusement at the guests' expense. The idea is droll
and naive. The Gridiron Club at Washington was founded on the same lines
as the Clover Club in Philadelphia. During the evening on which I was
present at the monthly dinner of the Gridiron, a member of the Chinese
Embassy replied in Chinese to the toast that was proposed in his honour.
I replied in French. It was a satisfaction to read in the Washington
papers, next morning, that the Chinese and French speeches had been
greatly appreciated by the club members.
Really? _Allons donc!_
Such fun as goes on at these "Gridiron" Clubs may savour a trifle of
horseplay to the stranger; but though I do not know the origin of these
tourneys, I imagine they arose from a genuine American enjoyment of
quick repartee. At these meetings, eloquence prepared beforehand would
be of little use: the essential equipment for the guest is a ready wit
and a bold tongue.