_Advertisements.--Marvellous Puffs.--Illustrated Ditto.--A
Yankee on the Look-out for a Living.--"Her Heart and a
Cottage."--A Circus Proprietor and the President of the United
States.--Irresistible Offers of Marriage.--A Journalist of all
Work.--Wanted, a Frenchwoman, Young, Pretty, and
Cheerful.--Nerve-calming Syrup.--Doctors on the Road.--An
Advocate Recommends Himself to Light-fingered Gentlemen.--Mr.
Phineas Barnum, the King of Showmen.--Nothing is Sacred in the
Eyes of Phineas, the Modern Phoenix.--My Manager regrets not
being able to Engage Mr. Gladstone and Lord Randolph Churchill
for Platform Work in the United States._
The Americans of to-day are so _blase_ on the matter of advertisements,
that it is difficult to attract their attention without getting up
extravagant baits for their eyes.
To announce your wares as superior to all that have been yet before the
public; to publish testimonial letters from all the worthy folk who have
been cured by your drug; to merely describe yourself as honest and
industrious, when seeking a situation,--the day for all this is past.
After the ordinary, it became necessary to adopt the extraordinary, and,
in these times, it is as much as the marvellous can do to produce any
effect.
The most effective bait is the illustrated advertisement. Here, for
instance, is the "Capilline," which makes the hair and whiskers grow as
if by magic. You have to be so careful in handling the stuff, that if a
drop were to fall, say, on your nose, a tuft of hair would immediately
grow thereon. On the left, you see a poor fellow, bald, whiskerless, and
wan. A young lady is turning her back on him with a look of disgust. The
illustration is entitled, "Before using Capilline--Refused." On the
right, you see a superb male beauty, adorned with a luxuriant growth of
hair and beard. The same young lady reposes her head on his shoulder,
and raises her rapturous eyes to his. Underneath are the words, "After
using Capilline--Accepted." But the most marvellous part of it is, that
the "Capilline" has changed the cut of the man's coat. First he was
dressed in a lank, threadbare, shapeless sack; after having used the
magic elixir, he has bloomed into the pink of tailoring perfection.
I culled the following advertisement from one of the New York papers:
"AS COLLECTOR OR SALESMAN.--Slim, sleek, slender, sharp, shrewd,
sensible, sarcastic Yank, seeks a situation in some store,[17] hotel or
office, as collector or salesman; has highest references, and push and
cheek of an army mule: can sell goods or collect bills with any man on
the continent of North America (Buck's County, Penn., included)."
[17] Mark the attractive buzzing of all these s's.
The next specimen is an idyll. It is entitled, _Her Heart and a
Cottage_. "For hours she was lost in ecstasy, gazing into her lover's
eyes. 'How beautiful you are,' she said, 'and how happy you look!
Darling, say that it is I who am the cause of your happiness.' The
handsome young man tenderly kissed the lips of his dear one. 'Yes,' he
said, 'it is because you love me that I am so happy, but I owe my look
of resplendent health to Dr. Benson's syrup.'"
A Chicago draper thus advertises his annual sale:
"Sell or Perish--Pay or Die--I must get rid of my stock this week."
On a hairdresser's shop, I read:
"Tonsorial Palace--Professor Rogers has your hair cut under his own
supervision. How is it cut?--_As You Like It_ (Shakespeare)."
* * * * *
President Cleveland, wishing one day to see a certain circus
performance, sent to retain a box. The circus proprietor immediately
hired, and sent about the streets of the town, a small army of sandwich
men, carrying an advertisement worded as follows: "The President of the
United States, with his young and beautiful wife, will honour the circus
with their presence this evening."
There was such a demand for seats, that numbers of people were refused;
but Mr. and Mrs. Cleveland, having heard that their names had served as
an advertisement, did not appear.
After the performance, a great part of the audience demanded the return
of half their entrance money, on the ground that the programme had not
been carried out in its entirety, since the President and his wife had
not made their appearance, as the spectators had been led to expect.
The circus manager was obliged to reimburse, says the paper from which I
extract the account.
Never lay aside an American newspaper without reading the
advertisements. Ten to one you will be rewarded for your patience.
The following appeared in the _New York Herald_ matrimonial column:
"A Christian gentleman, good family, highest character, American,
handsome, educated, cultured, will give his youthful manhood and vigour
for the love of a maiden lady with an income; marriage; no triflers."
This reads a "trifle" like a hoax of some male trifler.
In another column, an American, desirous of learning French, expresses
himself thus:
"An American desires to take French lessons of a French lady, young,
well-bred, good-looking, and of a lively disposition."
A tempting offer for my countrywomen.
* * * * *
A journalist in the ranks of the unemployed naively addresses himself to
the editors of American papers:
"A journalist without children, and total abstainer, wishes to obtain a
situation as reporter. Writes leaders, general gossip, interviews,
literary musical, and dramatic criticisms, and police-court reports.
Fertile imagination: can make one or two interesting columns out of the
smallest incident."
Fertile imagination! This is the most important testimonial for an
American journalist.
An apothecary may puff a nerve-calming syrup by announcing that, to be
happy in his domestic relations, "a husband should administer a
table-spoonful of it to his wife every morning," without great loss of
dignity: but it is not the shopkeeper alone who has recourse to such
means for keeping himself before the public; much the same thing is done
by certain doctors and lawyers. Of course these charlatans are not to be
confounded with the numerous lawyers and doctors who are an honour to
their professions; but, at any rate, they are men who have passed
examinations to obtain licence, if not their degree.
There are travelling doctors in America who go from town to town to heal
the sick at reduced prices.
Here is the advertisement of one of these gentlemen. It is headed with
his portrait, and appears in the papers of the towns he operates upon:
"Dr. R. has already remained in M---- longer than he first intended, but
at the request of numerous invalids and friends he will extend his stay
one week longer. Patients in other towns have been disappointed by his
long stay in M----; but they have his assurance that this visit WILL NOT
BE EXTENDED BEYOND THE TIME STATED ABOVE."
This stereotyped advertisement has a flavour of the drum and cymbals of
the mountebank. Walk up, ladies and gentlemen, walk up and show your
tongues and have your pulses felt.
Further down, this same medical gentleman falls into the style of the
chimney-sweep, anxious to enlarge his connection: "He thanks his many
friends and patrons for the kindness and patronage bestowed upon him,
and trusts, by pursuance of the same honourable business and
professional methods and efforts, to fully merit a continuance of same."
Many a briefless man of the law sends his card around to the occupants
of the various prisons. As an improvement upon this, I would suggest
(and I do not doubt it has been already done) something in the style of
Dr. R.'s puff:
"Mr. X., advocate, presents his compliments to the gentlemen of the
light finger, and hopes to be honoured with their confidence. No fees
unless the case is won. Mr. X. is eloquent, persuasive, tender,
pathetic, impulsive, violent, just as the case may demand. He can
disconcert witnesses and touch the jury. Many great criminals owe him
their liberty and even their lives."
* * * * *
In the smoking-room of the _Germanic_ one day, an American, who sat near
me, said, addressing me:
"I believe you are going to America to lecture, sir?"
"Yes," I replied, "I am."
"Who is booming your show, may I ask?" he said in the most natural way
in the world.
I must have stared at him like a rustic, being utterly at a loss to
understand what he meant.
Upon getting this Americanism explained, I had the satisfaction of
finding that my interlocutor's question simply meant, in English, "Who
is your impresario?"
"Well," thought I, "I am going to have a lively time in the States,
that's evident: this is a foretaste that is promising." I went to my
cabin thinking about the Yankee who was to "boom my show."
* * * * *
The greatest "boomer" in America is the great, the only, the unique
Barnum. The personality of this king of showmen is not particularly
interesting, except for being typically American, and one that could not
exist in any country but America.
Mr. Barnum (Phineas is his baptismal name), pursued by Fate, is every
five years the victim of a conflagration. His fires happen with terrible
regularity. Whilst I was in America, his tigers and elephants were burnt
out of house and home. Scarcely had the flames been extinguished, when
there were paragraphs in the papers to say that Mr. Barnum's agent was
buying fresh animals for the "biggest show on earth," and all over the
walls of America's cities were to be seen flaring posters, representing
Phineas Barnum rising from the flames, like a modern Phoenix. Appended
was a long literary essay, which began: "Rising Phoenix-like from the
ashes of my fifth fire," and setting forth the wonderful attractions of
the new show which was to be opened.
Mr. Barnum holds in small esteem the man who lets slip a chance of
making money. He would think it quite natural to offer 10,000 francs a
week to General Boulanger to show himself in his museum, and would think
it very unnatural that the General should refuse such a handsome offer.
The rumour had it that the enterprising Phineas wrote to M. Pasteur some
time since to try and engage him. He guaranteed, it is said, 50,000
dollars to the illustrious savant if he would inoculate before the
American public twice a day. It was not much to ask, and the 50,000
dollars would have been easily earned. Barnum, however, had to content
himself with engaging a gentleman in spectacles, resembling more or less
the famous master of the Rue d'Ulm, and he succeeded in securing four
little Americans whom M. Pasteur had just saved from hydrophobia. They
were inoculated (with clear water probably) for a month, in all the
principal towns of the States. The Society for the Protection of
Animals, which does not include man in its circle of operations, made no
objection, and the coffers of the enterprising Phineas overflowed with
dollars.
Barnum does not understand how a good offer can be refused. He looks
upon everything as being to sell or to let, and the almighty dollar as
the master of the world. One day, he took it into his head to make an
offer for the house in which Shakespeare was born. The English fired up
at the idea, and he had to abandon his project, and be satisfied with
"Jumbo."
The Musee Grevin in Paris, and Madame Tussaud's Exhibition in London,
are full of celebrities in wax. The dream of Barnum is to exhibit them
in the flesh.
If every European nation were to become a republic, the dethroned
monarchs could go and make their fortunes in America, and the greatest
ambition of Barnum would be realised.
* * * * *
Nothing astonishes an American. That which makes his conversation
immensely piquant is the calm, natural tone in which he comes out with
statements that fairly take your breath away.
My impresario had just engaged me for a lecture season in the States and
Canada.
"I shall have two Europeans on my list for next year," he said, "Mr
Charles Dickens and yourself. I wanted two others, but they were not to
be had."
"That is not very flattering," said I; "but who are the two Europeans
you cannot get?"
"Mr. Gladstone and Lord Randolph Churchill," replied he quite calmly.
Then, suppressing the words "Mr." and "Lord," according to the habit of
his countrymen, he added with a sigh:
"Yes, Gladstone would have made a lump, and Churchill would have been an
elegant success."