_Jonathan's Eccentricities.--The Arc de Triomphe not being
Hirable, an American proposes to Buy it.--The Town Council of
Paris do not Close with Him.--Cathedrals on Hire.--Companies
Insuring against Matrimonial Infidelity.--Harmony
Association.--Burial of a Leg.--Last Will and Testament of an
American who Means to be Absent on the Day of Judgment._
Jonathan measures everything by his own gigantic ell.
His notions are like the continent he inhabits: vast, almost boundless.
He has done such wonders, that he feels equal to doing anything and
everything.
The result is that America is the home of all forms of eccentricities,
of all forms of daring. To the Americans themselves, this daring, these
eccentricities are the most natural things in the world, and that is
what makes their charm.
Jonathan considers that everything is to be had, it is but a question of
will and of money. How much? So much--Done.
Parisians remember very well the American millionaire who, on the
occasion of his daughter's marriage, wrote to the _Conseil Municipal_ to
ask for the loan of the Arc de Triomphe, which he was anxious to
decorate in honour of the wedding, and have the special use of during
the day.
He was politely informed that the Arch was not _to let_.
"Then I will buy it," he replied; "name your price."
The offer was a royal one, and the American, I doubt not, thought the
Town Council mad to let slip such a chance of doing business.
Jonathan would ask the Queen to lend him Windsor Castle for the season,
if the fancy took him.
A Bostonian once conceived the idea of entertaining his friends with the
performance of an oratorio. His drawing-room being much too small to
hold the party he wished to invite, he thought of hiring a concert-room
or a theatre for the night.
"But, no," he said to himself, "an oratorio would be much more
impressive in a sacred edifice."
And he set about hiring the cathedral of the place.
Such things as these make us smile, and we say, "Those Americans are
crazy." Certainly they are a little bit _touched_.
* * * * *
In America, the most preposterous ideas find partisans--and subscribers.
Thus, I saw in one of the most widely read American newspapers the
announcement of a company recently founded, with a capital of 500,000
dollars, called:
"Matrimonial Infidelity Insurance Company."
The prospectus of this enterprise states its object and advantages with
categorical clearness. Each sufferer, upon presenting proof, is to
receive from the company a cheque as a sort of court-plaster to patch up
his lacerated feelings. I would not advise you to put a penny in the
concern. I have no confidence in the dividends of an enterprise which
might some day have to pay a fabulous sum to a Mormon, whose twenty or
thirty wives had taken it into their heads to desert in a batch.
The "Consoler" would be a good name for this company of insurance
against the risks of marriage.
I also note the existence of a _Harmony Association_, the object of
which is to examine men and women about to marry, and to give them Mr.
Punch's advice, or to stamp the men warranted to wear and the women
warranted to wash. No more frauds possible. Perhaps the association may
presently undertake to furnish the certificate of the decease of the
future mother-in-law.
* * * * *
As a specimen of small and harmless eccentricities, I extract the
following from an American paper:
"Mrs. Margaret R., of New York, had her leg amputated the other day, and
insisted upon its having Christian burial in her family lot in Calvary
Cemetery. A death certificate was made out by the doctor, setting forth
that the leg had died of amputation at the Chambers Street Hospital,
November 29th, 1887; that it was fifty years old, married, and part
mother of a family. The leg was buried with all due ceremony."
The thing being quite natural, the newspaper makes no comment upon it.
It only supplies it with a good heading, something like _A Leg gone to
Heaven in advance of its Owner_.
* * * * *
A certain Mr. Ambrose R., of Pittsburg, evidently intending to be a
defaulter at the Last Judgment, has drawn up a will giving these
directions for the disposal of his remains:
"I direct that my body be taken to St. Michael's Church, and, after the
proper religious services are performed, that it be given in charge of
my family, who will convey it to Samson's Crematory, and there have it
burned to ashes, the ashes to be put in a small bottle and given in
charge of the German Consul in Pittsburg. This gentleman will then
forward my ashes to the Consul in New York, who will give them in charge
of the captain of the German steamer _Elba_, who will place them
securely in his ship for the ocean voyage. When at mid-ocean, I direct
the captain to request one of the crew to ascend to the top of the
topmost mast with my ashes in his hand, and, after pronouncing a last
benediction, to extract the cork from the bottle and cast its contents
to the four winds of heaven. I direct also, while this ceremony is being
performed, that it be witnessed by all the passengers on board. After
the _Elba_ has completed her trip and returned again to New York, I
want a full statement of my death and the scattering of my ashes in
mid-ocean published in the Pittsburg papers, so that my friends in this
city shall know my burial-place."
This reminds me of Chateaubriand's ocean burial, but the sprinkling adds
a touch of humour of which poor Chateaubriand was wholly destitute.