"_Judge._--You may go, sir. Good day.
"_Prisoner._--"Oh, give to me that better word that comes from the heart, Good bye."
"I managed to get my friend, Mr. Blobb, out of the court-room, and subsequently, with some difficulty, I succeeded in putting him to bed in my apartment, where I kept him for twenty-four hours, until he had recovered from his temporary aberration. He has since that time been in a normal state, except that he appears melancholy at times. He is well enough, however,----
"To be here this evening," said Quackenbush, interrupting; "for know ye that Mr. R. Percy Delancy Blobb is now before you in the person of myself, and I am here to-night to ask forgiveness, which, if you don"t give to me, I shall take immediate measures to expel you all from the club."
It was immediately voted that Mr. Quackenbush be forgiven, on condition that he would disclose the facts which led to his being found a prisoner in the Ess.e.x Market Police Court.
This, Mr. Quackenbush said he would do and do it now, and after finding room for a gla.s.s of ginger-wine, proceeded to narrate his experience.
He stated, substantially, that the whole difficulty grew out of a love affair. He had become deeply infatuated with an unknown and beautiful blonde. He had often met her in the street, in theatres, and concert-rooms, and his intense admiration ripened into a deep love. He was unable to learn who she was until a fortnight previously, when he found a friend who was well acquainted with her, and who undertook to bring about an introduction. Things wore a brighter aspect then. The sun was more brilliant; the moon shed a less melancholy light; lager bier tasted better; oysters appeared fatter; peanuts seemed always roasted just enough, and, in fact, he felt quite satisfied with life, and the world generally, and resolved to postpone indefinitely a purpose he had entertained of buying three cents" worth of a.r.s.enic. But a day or two before the scene in the Police Court in which he figured, he found himself in a stage, and directly opposite was the identical object of his admiration and affection. He hitched from one side on his seat to the other; put one leg on the other, and then reversed them; looked out of the window, and then at her; scratched his ears; pulled up his collar; brushed the dust from his pantaloons; put his hands in his pockets; pulled them out, and did many ridiculous things which he would not have done had she not been present. She stopped the stage on one of the avenues, and handed him a five-franc piece to pay the driver. The driver, as usual, gave change in small pieces. He counted it to see that it was all right; found it to be so, and informed her of the fact. The streets being very muddy, he resolved to do the genteel in the way of a.s.sisting her out of the vehicle; made his exit; put one foot six inches into a mud-hole, and the other on the edge of the curb-stone; lifted the lady to the sidewalk in safety, at the expense of bursting off two suspender-b.u.t.tons, and his vest-buckle, a slip down causing his nose to fall against the tire, his knees into the mud, his shoulder against the stage-steps, and caving in his hat. But all this didn"t trouble him in the least, as he expected to be more than remunerated by an approving smile on the part of the lady. He turned his face towards her, and found her engaged in counting the change, which he had p.r.o.nounced to be all right, as if she suspected that he would be guilty of cheating her out of a stray sixpence, and thus hazard his chances for salvation. The effect of the disappointment, on him, was frightful. He felt a sickening sensation; stopped at the nearest whisky-shop, and imbibed; went to another, and took a nip; proceeded to a third, and smiled; reached a fourth, and took a horn; entered a fifth, and drank, and so on, _ad libitum_. At last he reached Niblo"s; saw a flaming poster announcing that Louisa Pyne was to sing in the "Crown Diamonds;" bought a ticket; took several drinks and a seat. His ears had become unusually critical.
Thought he could beat Harrison singing, and to satisfy himself, he rose up, and commenced to slaughter a piece, which Harrison had just executed. There was an evident want of appreciation of his abilities, for he was hustled out in double-quick time. He then went to a bar-room, and called for something to drink, which deliberate act was the last circ.u.mstance he remembered, previous to recognizing Mr. Spout in his room in the afternoon of the following day, when he inquired of that gentleman if he wouldn"t be so kind as to prevent the n.i.g.g.e.r boy from striking him on the head with a poker, as he thought he had done it long enough.
A vote of forgiveness to Mr. Quackenbush was carried, after which the entire club went to sleep.
"The Hamlet Night."
"Murder most foul, as in the best it is; But this most foul, strange, and unnatural."
[Ill.u.s.tration]
A few days after the events recorded in the last chapter, a new trick was invented to obtain under, false pretences, the money of the public.
A number of needy and seedy individuals having been told that in England several of the most distinguished literary men in that country had given a few theatrical exhibitions with great success, conceived the plan of exhibiting, in a similar manner, in the city of New York, a number of authors, artists and other celebrities, admitting the public at twenty-five cents per head. That it might look less like a humbug, and by way of hiding, as far as possible, the swindle which was only too transparent, after all, it was announced that the living poets and painters would be shown all alive in secure cages, undergoing a periodical stirring-up by the keeper, and being benevolently fed in the presence of the spectators afterward.
Preparations had been made to secure the services of the biggest authors, the most notorious painters, the largest sized sculptors, the most melodious poets, and the most sanguinary editors the country could produce. The anxious world expected nothing less than to see the author of "Thanatopsis" appear as _Hamlet_ in black-tights and a slouched hat--and he who invented "Evangeline" and "Hiawatha" come on as the _Ghost_ with a pasteboard helmet and a horse-hair beard. Who should be _Laertes_ but he who "skulped" the Greek Slave, or what editor could play "the king" like the democratic conductor of the _Tribune_? who, in a.s.suming the crown, was to doff the white hat, "positively for one night only?" The _Queen of Denmark_ would of course be represented by the architect of "Uncle Tom"s Cabin," whose familiarity with courts and royalty would enable her to invest the character with life-like interest. The public had made up its mind to be content with no _Ophelia_ except Ruth Hall, for no one else could play the crazy scenes so admirably. But alas for the expectations of the misguided public--the ill.u.s.trious individuals aforesaid would not come, and consequently the public were compelled to witness the consummation of the dreadful tragedy, by authors whose works they had never heard of; painters whose productions were unknown to the world, and editors whom a close investigation resolved into obscure scribblers.
To this literary exhibition Overdale, Wagstaff, and John Spout resolved to go--Overdale to give the necessary explanations, Wagstaff to make a transcript of his friend"s valuable remarks, and John Spout (himself an amateur artist) to see the celebrated men of his own profession, whose contributions to art had been so persistently kept out of sight.
The performance was to take place in the Academy of Music, a building designed and completed by a diabolically ingenious architect, who endeavored to construct a theatre in such a manner that one half the audience could not hear, and the other half could not see, and who succeeded to admiration.
Our friends obtained seats in that part of the house where they could see, though it was not possible to _hear_ a word.
After a great many preliminary flourishes and false starts by the members of the orchestra, they set off as nearly together as they could, in obedience to the frantic gestures of the leader, who flourished his fiddle-bow with as much energy and vindictiveness as if he had been insanely endeavoring to kill mosquitoes with it, in forty different directions at once.
Finally the curtain went up amid the uproarious applause of the a.s.sembled mult.i.tude, interrupted only by a small boy in the gallery, who hissed like a whole flock of enraged wild-geese, having been stationed there especially for the performance of this sibilant duty by an avenging washerwoman, to whom one of the amateurs owed four and sixpence; his dissenting voice was, however, soon hushed by the police, who put him out, and didn"t give him his money back, after which the exhibition proceeded.
To give a full description of one half of the ridiculous performances indulged in by these deluded persons--to tell of the new readings which they gave, and the old readings which they didn"t give--to relate how carefully they avoided the traps, and with what commendable caution they kept away from the footlights--to give an idea of the bedlamitish ingenuity they had displayed in the selection of wardrobe, how each one had put on the most inappropriate articles imaginable, and how they could not have been more incongruously attired if they had been all dressed in sheep"s grey breeches and straw hats--to dilate upon the disasters which befell the said wardrobe, how the tunics caught in the wings, and the shoulder-cloaks got singed by the side-lights; how the ladies" trains were in everybody"s way, and their feathers in everybody"s eyes--how, in their confusion, when they painted their faces, they put the wrong colors in the wrong places, and some of them went on with white cheeks, chalked lips, and eyebrows colored a bright vermilion--how the gilt crowns got bent and battered until they looked like ancient milk-pans with the bottoms melted out--how the flannel ermine on the regal calico robes got greasy, and looked like tripe--how the wax pearls melted and the gla.s.s ones broke--how the "supes" painted their whiskers uneven, and got their wigs on wrong side before--how some of them couldn"t get their armor on at all, but how one enterprising individual, having succeeded to his satisfaction, came on to deliver a message, with his sandals in his hand, his helmet on one foot, his breast-plate on the other, and his leg-pieces strapped on his shoulders--to tell how the _Ghost_ got chilly and played the last scene in an overcoat, and proved that he was a substantial Native American Ghost, by making two extemporaneous speeches, in excellent English, to the audience--to do full justice to the miscellaneous a.s.sortment of _legs_, then and there congregated, and relate how some were bow-legs, and some were shingle-legs, some were broomstick-legs, some were wiry legs, and some were shoulder-of-mutton legs--to give an accurate relation of the various expedients resorted to, to remedy the most noticeable defects in those legs, and state that some were padded on the sides, and some at the ankles, and how, in not a few instances, the padding slipped away from its original position, thereby putting the calves on the shins, and causing the knees to resemble deformed india-rubber foot-b.a.l.l.s--and to give a reliable history of the unheard-of antics indulged in by the said fantastic legs, after their symmetry had been perfected by the means just written--how some went crooked, some sideways, and some wouldn"t go at all; how some minced with short steps, like a racking pony, and others stepped along as if they had seven-league boots on; how some moved with convulsive hitches, as if they were clockwork legs, and the springs were out of order; how some worked spasmodically up and down in the same place, and didn"t get along at all, as if they were legs which had struck for higher wages; and how others dashed ahead, as if they did not intend to stop until they had transported their bewildered proprietors out of sight of the audience, as if they were machine legs, with the steam turned on, and weights on the safety-valve; how some went on the stage and wouldn"t go off, and how others went off and wouldn"t go on, until they were coaxed on by their agonized owners, a long time after the cue came--to tell how the red fire burned green, and the blue fire would not burn at all--how the call-boy got tipsy, and was not forthcoming--how the property-man fell over the sheet-iron thunder, and stuck his head into a pot of red paint, which made him look like a modern edition of Charles the First with his head cut off--how the grave-diggers got into the grave and couldn"t get out--how _Hamlet_ and _Laertes_ could hardly get in at all; and how, when they did get in, they made the gravel fly--how the wrong men came on at the wrong time, and how, as a general thing, the right men didn"t ever come on--how _Guildenstern_ spoke _Ophelia"s_ lines, how _Horatio_ tried to speak one of Hamlet"s speeches, and danced a frantic hornpipe with rage because he couldn"t think how it began, and how _Polonius_ couldn"t speak at all, and so went home--how n.o.body could remember what Shakspeare said, and so everybody said what Shakspeare didn"t say, and hadn"t said, and wouldn"t have said, under any circ.u.mstances--how some of the men swore, and some of the women wanted to, but postponed it, and how the butchery proceeded, with many mishaps and mult.i.tudinous mistakes, and how the audience applauded, and cheered, and laughed at the dismal tragedy, evidently considering it the liveliest farce of the season, are facts, falsehoods, and circ.u.mstances, both real and supposit.i.tious, which could not be compressed within the limits of a single volume.
Hamlet was personated by an aspiring youth, whose physical dimensions were not up to the army standard, and who couldn"t have gathered fruit from a currant-bush without high-heeled boots on; while the lady who represented his mother would have been compelled to stoop in order to pick pippins from the tallest apple-tree that ever grew. By the side of her ill.u.s.trious son, she looked perfectly capable of taking him up in her arms, giving him his dinner after the usual maternal fashion, and afterwards disposing of him in the trundle-bed, to complete his infant slumbers.
Overdale explained that they had tried to get a bigger _Hamlet_, but that, upon the whole, he thought the little fellow would "speak his piece" pretty well, taking into consideration the fact, that in the dying groans, he was supposed to have no superior.
Wagstaff was totally ignorant of the plot, and as from the obfuscation of the performers, no one could have formed the slightest idea of what they were all talking about, he seemed in no very fair way to find out anything about it.
The peculiar rendition of the story of the King of Denmark was so uncertain, that even John Spout found it exceedingly difficult to tell where they were or how they would come out, or what they intended to do next. He was a little uncertain whether the queen would finally subdue _Hamlet_, or _Hamlet_ succeed in thrashing the queen. In the closet scene, especially, the battle was conducted with such varying success that it was impossible to bet, with any kind of certainty, on the result, or to prognosticate, with reliability, whether _Hamlet_ would knock his mother down with a chair, and damage her maternal countenance with the heels of his boots, or whether the old lady would succeed in _her_ design, which was evidently to conquer her rebellious offspring, and give him a good spanking. Neither could he tell whether _Laertes_ would kill _Horatio_, _Hamlet_, or the _Second Grave-digger_, who stood behind the wing, with his hands in his pockets, and his breeches in his boots. He was also a little undecided as to which was _Polonius_, and which was the king, and when the player queen came on, he thought it was only _Ophelia_, with a different-colored petticoat on. John swore the _Ghost_ looked as if he hadn"t had any dinner, and said he was perfectly certain his ghostship had been refreshing his invisible bowels with a mug of ale, behind the scenes, because when he came on the last time, with the broomstick in his hand, he could see the foam on his whiskers.
One of the richest and most incomprehensible scenes ever witnessed on the modern stage was the final one between _Hamlet_ and the _Ghost_, who, finding the weather chilly, had done his best to mitigate his sufferings by putting on an overcoat. _Hamlet_, trying to look fierce, holding his sword at arm"s length, performing a kind of original fancy-dance, as he followed the spiritual remains of his ghostly father across the stage--_Hamlet_, the mortal, being about the size of a mutton-ham, while his father, the immortal, supposed to be exceedingly ethereal, was tall enough and stout enough for a professional coal-heaver, instead of an amateur ghost--the intangible spirit, moreover, having one hand in his overcoat pocket, to keep his fingers warm, while in the other he flourished a short broomstick, as if to keep his degenerate scion at a respectful distance, were so ludicrous, that John Spout seized Wagstaff"s book, and produced the sketch to be found at the beginning of this chapter.
And in the last death-scene _Hamlet_ really won such honors as were never before accorded to mortal tragedian; being by this time a little doubtful whom to kill, he made an end of the entire company in rotation.
First, he stabbed the _King_, who rolled over once or twice, and died with his legs so tangled up in the _Queen"s_ train that _she_ had to expire in a hard knot; then he stabbed _Laertes_, who died cross-legged; then he stabbed _Osric_; and not content with this, he tripped up his heels and stood on his stomach, till he died in an agony of indigestion; then he tried to stick _Horatio_, but only succeeded in knocking his wig off; and then, turning up stage, made extensive preparations for terminating his own existence.
First, as everybody was dead, and everybody"s legs were lying round loose, he had to lay them out of the way carefully, so as not to interfere with the comfort of the corpses; then he picked up all the swords and laid them cautiously in a corner, so that the points shouldn"t stick in him when he fell; then he looked up at the curtain to see that he was clear of that, then he looked down at the traps to see that he was clear of them, and having at last arranged everything to his satisfaction, he proceeded to go systematically through his dying agonies, to the great satisfaction of the audience. Suffice it to say, that when the spasms were ended, and he had finally become a "cold corpus," his black tights were very dirty and had holes in the knees.
When the curtain went down _Hamlet_ was too exhausted to get up, and instantly everybody rushed to the rescue; those he had slaughtered but a few minutes before, forgot their mortal wounds, and hastened to the murderer with something to drink. The _King_ rushed up with a pewter mug of beer; _Horatio_ presented the brandy-bottle; the _Ghost_ handed him a gla.s.s of gin and sugar; the _Queen_ gave him the little end of a Bologna sausage and a piece of cheese; the stage carpenter, in his bewilderment, could think of nothing but the glue-pot; the property man hastened to his aid with a tin cup full of rose-pink, and a plate-full of property apple-dumplings (ingeniously but deceptively constructed out of canvas and bran), while an insane scene-shifter first deluged him with water, and then offered him the bucket to dry himself with.
[Ill.u.s.tration]
John Spout, who had been behind the curtain, and witnessed this last performance, immediately came out, borrowed Wagstaff"s notebook, and left therein his pictorial reminiscence of this scene as follows: Overdale had been profuse in his explanations of the many curious scenes, and Wagstaff had noted down his words carefully in his memorandum-book. Once when the _Ghost_ tripped and fell through the scenery, caving in the side of a brick house, and kicking his spiritual heels through the belfry of a church in the background, Overdale said that this was _Ophelia_, who had been taken suddenly crazy, and in her frenzy had imagined it necessary to hasten to the nearest grocery for a bar of soap to saw her leg off with. _Polonius_, he explained, was _Horatio_, and _Hamlet_ was a little boy who run on errands for the cook of the palace, by which culinary appellation he designated the Queen of Denmark. He said the plot of the piece was, that the king wanted to marry the cook, but her relatives objected to the alliance, because his majesty hadn"t got shirts enough for a change.
All of which was carefully written down by Wagstaff, with divers alterations, emendations, additions, and extemporaneous ill.u.s.trations, by John Spout.
This last-named individual a.s.serts to the present time that he cannot tell who were the most humbugged--the people who paid their money, and laughed at the play under the impression that it was a farce, or the unfortunates who performed the play, laboring under the hallucination that they were acting tragedy.
All were, however, satisfied, that it was a kink of the Elephant"s tail, which he has not yet uncurled in any city of America--save Gotham.
MRS. THROUGHBY DAYLIGHT"S FANCY DRESS JAM.
"Black spirits and white, Red spirits and grey, Mingle, mingle"----
MR. Remington Dropper had a great respect for upper tendom; was almost inclined to admit, without question, its claims to the worship of the vulgar ma.s.ses, and confessed that when he saw one whom he took to be a leader of fashion coming, he felt an involuntary movement of his right hand towards his hat. He admitted that he had, by this manner of doing indiscriminate homage to well-dressed people, on several occasions taken off his hat to notorious horse-jockeys, faro-dealers, and gamblers.
"However," said John Spout, "if you want to go to a grand fancy dress ball, where you will meet all "the world," as these try-to-be-fashionable people call those who have sc.r.a.ped together dollars enough to ent.i.tle them to their royal notice, I can very easily get you an invitation. Mrs.
Throughby Daylight, whose husband made a fortune by selling patent medicine, and thereby purged himself of poverty and plebeianism together, gives, in a short time, a grand fantasquerade, which is intended to be the most consolidated fancy dress jam of the season. Do you want to go?"
"Go," replied Dropper, "how can I go? I don"t know Mrs. Throughby Daylight, or Mr. Throughby Daylight, or any of the Daylights, so that Daylight is all moonshine."
"Dropper," was the response, "you"re young; I excuse that, for you can"t help it; but you"re also _green_, which I cannot forgive; your verdancy is particularly noticeable when you revive the absolute absurdity of supposing that it is necessary to be acquainted with a lady before you are invited to attend her parties. That antiquated idea has been long since exploded. Why, my dear sir, it is no more necessary that you should have ever previously heard of a woman whose "jam" you receive an invitation to attend, than it is probable she knows who _you_ are, or where the devil you come from."
Dropper was bewildered.
"It is a positive fact," continued Spout. "Why, bless your innocent eyes, a woman of fashion no more knows the names of the individuals who attend her grand party, than she knows who took tea last night with the man in the moon. She merely orders music and provisions, makes out a list of a few persons she _must_ have, has her rooms actually measured, allows eight inches square to a guest; thus having estimated the number that can crowd into her house, she multiplies it by two, which gives the amount of invitations to be issued, after which she leaves the rest to Brown. Brown takes the list; Brown finds the required number of guests.
Brown invites whom he pleases; Brown fills the house with people, and Brown, and only Brown, knows who they are, where they came from, or how the deuce they got their invitations."
Dropper, still more bewildered, inquired who Brown was.
"Brown," explained John Spout, "is the Magnus Apollo of fashionable society--he is the s.e.xton of Graceless Chapel, and no one can be decently married, or fashionably buried without his a.s.sistance. He has a wedding face and a funeral face, but never forgets himself and cries over the bride or laughs at the mourners; he is great as a s.e.xton, but it is only in his character of master of ceremonies at a party, that he rises into positive sublimity--he is the consoler of aspiring unfashionables, who have got plenty of money, and want to cut a swell, but don"t know how to begin. He is the furnisher of raw material on short notice, for fashionable parties of all dimensions; his genius is equal to any emergency, though, as the latest fashion is to invite three times as many people as can get into the house at any one time, Brown is often put to his trumps. Mrs. Codde Fishe last week wanted to give a party, and, of course, called on Brown. Brown measured the parlors; they would only hold 1728, even by putting the chairs down cellar, and turning the piano up endways. Mrs. Codde Fishe was in despair. Mrs. P.
Nutt had received 1800 at her party the night before, and if she couldn"t have 2000 she would be ruined. Brown"s genius saved her. "Mrs.
F.," said he, "though we must invite 2000 people, and though we must have 2000 people in the house, they need not be all there at one time, and they need not all stay."