We showed, or we exhibited, last night. It was the most crowded
church I ever seen. I did well, better than anyone. Gideon, Mrs.
Palmer and all said so. Gideon said I saved the day, but Palmer
held me back, he wouldn't let me sing or dance. I heard him tell
Gideon: "I'll have hell with that gilly kid, he thinks it a
minstrel show; I got to hold him down or he'll queer the fake."
I don't know what he meant, only he meant me.
Jake made some awful blunders but Gideon said it was like Palmer
to put him in to play "Christian." Tomorrow's Sunday and I'll
write you the full purceeding. I know the whole thing by heart
and if Pap can paint a Pilgrim's Progress I can show it, exhibit
it. Palmer will make a million. Lin could go along and play the
organ like Mrs. Palmer. I tell you she can put in the music
right, she fills out the thing just grand. Lin would have to
learn to play with both hands and she must learn music. Mrs.
Palmer won't play without the notes to lead her. I will take the
whole Sunday to write you the full history of the first night.
You better read "Pilgrim's Progress." Did you borrow Uncle
Tom's?
Does Uncle Ned feel hard towards me? If anything happens to me
and I get ruined it's their doings because I could have been
with a minstrel troupe. You have to lie more here in a day than
I did all the time I was with a minstrel show.
Your very affectionate son,
ALFRED GRIFFITH HATFIELD.
P. S. I looked at the dictionary. A "gilly" is a man attendant
in the Scottish Highlands. A "kid" is a young goat. It don't
tell what a "fake" is. Now I know Palmer will have to raise my
wages. If Pap agrees to paint a panorama and take Lin along you
can get Sis Minks to work for you.
[Illustration: "Oh! My Dear Hearers!"]
Palmer began the exhibition with a lecture:
"Ladies and Gentlemen: John Bunyan, the author of that wonderful work,
'The Pilgrim's Progress,' was an English religious writer, soldier and
Baptist preacher. He enlisted in the Parliamentary army very young. He
was so strongly impressed with the glimpse he caught of war that all his
writings, even things sacred, were strongly illustrative of fortresses,
camps, marching men, guns and trumpets. Bunyan was but seventeen years
old when he entered the army, hence the lasting impressions his
military life made upon his mind. He became famous as a Baptist preacher
and was flung into Bedford jail under order of the Restoration. He was
frequently offered his liberty on condition that he would desist from
preaching. This he refused; therefore, for twelve years he suffered
imprisonment for his conscience's sake.
"While in Bedford jail he began the book that has immortalized him. It
is the best allegory ever written and is the only book, excepting the
Bible, about which the educated majority have come over to the opinion
of the common people. The peculiar glory of Bunyan is that those who
hated his doctrines have acknowledged his genius by printing and using a
Catholic version of his parable, The Pilgrim's Progress, with the
Virgin's head in the title page.
"Oh, my dear hearers, how similar to the sufferings of the lowly genius
in producing his masterpiece were those undergone in painting the work
of art about to be unfolded for your inspection. For years he who
transferred the thoughts of Bunyan into almost real life, for years he
who wrought these fancies upon canvas, labored and suffered in secret.
No living eye was ever permitted to gaze upon his work save his own.
Night after night, by the dim light of lamp, the artist labored. Lack of
food, lack of sleep, did not deter him. He was inspired to produce that
which has been pronounced by men of highest learning as the greatest
painting the world has ever known, the greatest educator of the masses,
the greatest object lesson ever presented to the people of this country.
"The Pilgrim's Progress in living figures and realistic scenes, the
hills, the mountains, the sunny pastures, the soft vales, the
wilderness, the Shining River, the Beautiful Gates, the Celestial City.
"Like Bunyan, the painter had no idea that he was producing a
masterpiece."
Here Palmer would step to the front of the platform and, after a modest
pause, in a lower tone, continue: "Ladies and Gentlemen: I was not aware
the printed bills had announced to the world that I, Professor Palmer,
D. D., was the author of this work of art, otherwise, I am sure I would
not have mentioned it."
Alfred could never disassociate this announcement from that of the clown
in the circus who, after singing his song, announcing the sale of the
books, assuring the audience that the proceeds of the sale of the book
were for the benefit of an orphan who was a long ways from home, without
money or friends. Hoping the charitably disposed would assist the orphan
by buying the song books. Bowing low, he would add: "I forgot to tell
you that I am the orphan."