by Rick Raphael
"'How are they going,' says I.
"'Not at all,' says he. 'There's nothing to it that I can see. The breedand seed of Solomon himself must have camped down in this section; theyare the wisest lot I ever saw herd together. Instead of chewing strawsand leaning over fences after the customary and natural manner ofruminates, they pike around with a calm, cold-blooded sagacity that istruly awesome. It's me to pull out as soon as I can draw expenses.'
"The next time Cap. dawned upon my vision was a year afterward, down inGeorgia. He was doing the ballyho oration in front of a side wall circusin a mellifluous style that was just dragging the tar heels up to theentrance.
"'It's a little better than the Ohio gag,' says he, 'but I've seenbetter, at that. I had a good paying faro outfit in Cincinnati since Imet you, but the police got sore because I wouldn't cut the takings inwhat they considered the right place, so they closed me up.'
"During the next five years I met Cap. in every section of the country,and handling various propositions. In San Francisco I caught him in theact of selling toy balloons on a street corner; in Chicago he wasdisposing of old line life insurance with considerable effect; at acounty fair, somewhere in Iowa, I ran across him as he gracefullymanipulated the shells.
"But Cap. did not break permanently into the show business until hecoupled up with the McClintock in Milwaukee. Mac was an IrishPresbyterian, and was proud of it; he came out of the Black North andwas the most acute harp, mentally, that I had ever had anything to dowith. The Chosen People are not noted for commercial density; but a Jewcould enter Mac's presence attired in the height of fashion and leave itwith only his shoe strings and a hazy recollection as to how the thingwas done.
"Now, when a team like Cap. and Mac took to pulling together, there justnaturally had to be something doing. They began with a small show undercanvas, and their main card was a twenty-foot boa-constrictor, whichthey billed as 'Mighty Mardo.' Then they had a boy with three legs, oneof which they neglected to state was made of wood; also a blushingdamsel with excess embonpoint to the extent of four hundred pounds. Withthis outfit they campaigned for one season; in the fall they bought amuseum in St. Louis and settled themselves as impresarios.
"Now, in my numerous meetings with Cap. I had never thought to ask hisname, so when I saw an 'ad' in the _Clipper_ stating that Sheldon &McClintock was in need of a good full-toned lecturer that doubled inbrass, I just sat me down in my ignorance and dropped them a line. Theysent me a ticket to where I was sidetracked up in Michigan, and Ihurried down.
"'Oh, it's you, is it?' says Cap., as I piked into the ten by twelveoffice and announced myself. 'Well, I've heard you throw a spiel andthink you'll do. But I didn't know that you played brass. What's yourinstrument?'
"Now, I had a faint sentiment from the beginning that this clause intheir bill of requirements would get me into trouble, for I knew no moreabout band music than a he goat knows about the book of common prayer.
"'I do the cymbals,' says I.
"'What!' snorts Cap., rearing up; 'I thought you wrote that you playedbrass?'
"'Well,' says I, 'ain't cymbals brass?'
"It must have been my cold nerve that won Cap.'s regard, for he placedme as 'curio hall' lecturer and advertising man at twenty a week.
"The museum of Sheldon & McClintock proved to be a great notch. Morefake freaks were thought out, worked up and exhibited during the courseof that winter season than I would care to count. Then there was a smalltheater attached in which they put on very bad specialties and wherepainful-voiced young men and women warbled sentimental ballads abouttheir childhood homes and stuff of that character. These got about tendollars a week and had to do about thirty turns a day; they lived intheir make-up and got so accustomed to grease paint before the end oftheir engagements that they felt only half dressed without it.
"The trick made money, and in about a year McClintock cut loose and wentinto a patent promoting scheme.
"Shortly afterward the first 'continuous house' was opened in St. Louis,and the novelty of the thing was a body blow to Cap. He made a goodfight, but lost money every day; and at last he imparted to me inconfidence that if business did not improve he could see himself gettingout the shells and limbering up on them preparatory to going out andfacing the world once more.
"'The bank will stand for three hundred thousand dollars' worth more ofmy checks,' says he, 'and after they're used up I'm done.'
"He began to cut down expenses with the reckless energy of a man who sawthe poor-house looming ahead for him; the results was that his bad showsgrew worse, and the attendance wasn't enough to dust off the seats. Thebiggest item of expense about the place was 'Mighty Mardo,' theboa-constrictor; his diet was live rabbits, and a twenty-foot snake witha body as thick as a four-inch pipe can dispose of good and plenty ofthem when he takes the notion. Cap. began to feed him live rats, and themighty one soon began to show the effects of it.
"'He'll die on you,' says I to Cap. one day.
"'Let him,' says he; 'the rabbits stay cut out.'
"One day a fellow came along with a high-schooled horse that he wantedto sell. He had more use for ready money just then than he had for thenag, so he offered to put it in cheap. But Cap. waved him away.
"'I'll need the money to buy meals with before long,' says he to thefellow, 'so tempt me not to my going hungry.'
"This little incident seemed to make the old man feel bad; he lockedhimself up in the office for four hours or so communing with his innerself; but when he came out he was looking bright and gay.
"'Say,' says he, 'I've changed my mind and just bought that horse.'
"'I didn't see the man come back,' says I.
"'I made the deal over the 'phone,' says Cap. Then he pushes a thick wadof penciled stuff at me. 'Here's some truck I want you to take over tothe printing house,' he goes on. 'When it's out and up the brute will bewell known.'
"I takes a look over the copy, and my hat was lifted two inches straightoff my head. The first one read something like this:
ADMIRAL
THE TALKING HORSE
TALKS LIKE A HUMAN BEINGVOCAL ORGANS DEVELOPED LIKE THOSE OFA MANHEAR HIM SING THE BASS SOLO"DOWN IN THE DEPTHS"
TEN THOUSAND DOLLARS
TO ANY ONE PROVING THESE CLAIMSFAKE IN THE SLIGHTEST DEGREE
"'Reads good, don't it?' asks Cap., sort of beaming through hisnose-pinzes. 'But give a look at the others.'
"The next one was as bad as the first:
ADMIRAL!!!
THE HORSE WHO RECITESTHE DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCEIN A DEEP BASS VOICEAND WITH PERFECT ENUNCIATION
"'I didn't hear the fellow say the skate could do that kind of stuff,'says I, just a bit dazed, after looking over a lot more of it.
"'He only handed it to me as a sort of last card,' says Cap., 'andthat's what made me change my mind about buying him. Get five thousandtwelve sheets in yellow and red; ten thousand three sheets; fifteenthousand block one sheets with cut of the horse. And you can place anorder for as many black and white dodgers as they can turn out betweenthis and the end of the week. It's a big card and we're going into it upto our eyebrows.'
"If I had had time to consider anything but hustling, I might havethought the thing was a fake. But it was the old man's game and I lefthim to do the worrying. I threw rush orders into the printers and soonhad the presses banging away on the stuff desired.
"Next day Cap. started a four-inch double-column notice in every paperin town. I hired an army of distributers and began to put out thedodgers as they came hot off the bat; then I got a couple of Guineabands, put them in open wagons, done up with painted muslinannouncements, and sent them forth to tear off the melody and otherwisedelight the eye and ear of the town. As the big stuff came off the pressit was slapped up on every blank wall and fence in the city that wasn'tunder guard; and when the job was finished, St. Louis fairly glared withit. If there was a person who hadn't heard of the Talking Horse by theend of the week, they must have been deaf, dead or in jail.
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"The nag was to make his first appearance on Monday, and the last sheetof paper had been put up and the last hand bill disposed of by Saturdayafternoon.
"'How does she look?' says Cap. to me when I came in.
"'Great,' says I. 'If they ain't tearing the place down to get in onMonday, why my bump of prophecy has a dent in it.'
"'Let 'em come,' says Cap., looking very much tickled. 'We need themoney and we ain't turning nobody away. The horse has reached town andwill be brought around to-morrow morning; so you make it a point to beon hand to let it and the handler in.'
"I was around bright and early on Sunday morning, and along comes thehorse. He was got up in the swellest horse stuff I ever saw--beadedblankets of plush and silk, with his name embroidered on them, and allthat kind of goods. The handler was a husky with one lamp and a bad oneat that.
"'Where do I put him?' says he.
"'On the top floor,' says I. 'We've got planks on the stairs and arigging fixed to haul him up by.'
"When we got him safely landed and the glad coverings off, I looked himover.
"'His intellect must sort of tell on him, don't it?' asks I.
"'Why, he is some under weight,' says the fellow in charge.
"'He don't look over-bright to me,' I goes on.
"'He never does on Sundays,' the husky comes back. 'It's sort of an offday with him.'
"Then I went out to lunch and stayed about two hours; when I got back Ifound a gang of cops and things buzzing all over the place. Cap. was inthe office, his plug hat on the back of his head and a cigar in hismouth.
"'What's the trouble?' says I.
"'Had a hell of a time around here,' says he. 'I was called up on the'phone and got down as soon as I could. Just take an observation of thatfellow over there.'
"The fellow referred to was the handler of the Talking Horse. His leftarm was done up in splints and bandaged from finger-tips to shoulder,and he had a clump of reporters around him about six feet thick.
"'What hit him?' asks I.
"'About everything on the top floor,' says Cap., solemnly. 'The TalkingHorse is dead. Mighty Mardo broke out of his showcase about an hour ago,took a couple of half hitches around the Admiral and crushed him todeath.'
"'Go 'way!' says I.
"'Sure thing,' says Cap. 'Come up stairs and have a look.'
"We went up and did so. The place was a wreck; the horse was the deadestI ever saw and the constrictor was still twined about him.
"'Why, the snake's passed out, too,' says I.
"Cap. folds his hands meekly across his breast in a resigned sort ofway.
"'Yes,' says he; 'he, too, was killed in the dreadful struggle. He musthave went straight for the Admiral as soon as he got loose. The handlerwas down in the office, alone, when the uproar started; he came jumpingupstairs six steps to the jump and when he sees Mardo putting in thatbunch of body holds on his intelligent charge, why, he took a hand. Theresult was a dead snake for me and a crippled wing for him. When I gothere, Doc. Forbes was tying him up,' Cap. goes on rather sorrowful like;'and when I sees what's happened, I know that I'm a ruined man. So I'phones for the police and reporters to come down and view my finish.'
"From the way he talked I expected to see him carted home before thehour was up; but he wasn't. As soon as the newspaper fellows cleared outwith all the facts of the case in their note-books, Cap. sends for afellow and puts him right to work fixing up the horse and snake so'sthey'll keep, and then lays them out.
"Next morning the newspapers slopped over with scare headlines tellingof the battle. According to their way of looking at it, the struggles inthe arena of old Rome were scared to death in comparison, and moderntimes did not come anywhere near showing a parallel of the combatbetween the terrible constrictor and the horse with the human voice. Theresult of this was that when the time came to open the doors at noon wehad to have a squad of police to keep the mob from blocking traffic forsquares around. Cap. had changed and doubled the size of his ads. overnight.
"The horse was done up in a big black coffin covered with flowers; andthe lid with his name, age and wonderful accomplishment engraved upon aplate stood beside him. The remains of Mighty Mardo, stuffed with baledhay and excelsior, were embracing the dead Admiral with monster coils;and the crowds came, gazed, and marveled; then they went forth to telltheir friends that they might come and do likewise.
"For weeks the coin came into the box like a spring freshet in the hillcountry, and Cap. must have kept the bank working after hours; at anyrate, he sat around and smoked with a smile so angelic, that, to look athim, one wondered how he could wear it and not drift away into theethereal blue. It was a good month before the thing lost its pullingpower, and when it stopped Cap. had planted the stake that boosted himinto the company he now keeps and set him to handling voices that costthousands of simoleons an hour.
"When all was over, I found time to take the husky, with the damagedfin out and throw a few drinks into him. Then he told me the wholestory.
"'The old man didn't think you could do the thing justice if you werewise,' says he, 'so he kept you out. This ain't the horse the fellowoffered to sell him, at all. He bought it at a bazar for ten dollars,the day before I brought it around. When you went out for lunch Cap. hecomes in. We done for the plug in a minute, and as Mighty Marda was allbut gone, on account of his rat diet, we finished him, too. Then wewrecked the place up some, took a couple of turns about the horse withMardo, called in Doc. Forbes, who stood in, to fix up the fictitiousfracture, and then rung in the show.'
"Yes," observed Bat, thoughtfully, after a pause, "I've made up my mindthat H. Wellington Sheldon is a wise plug."
THE OWL-CRITIC
BY JAMES T. FIELDS
"Who stuffed that white owl?" No one spoke in the shop, The barber was busy, and he couldn't stop; The customers, waiting their turns, were all reading The "Daily," the "Herald," the "Post," little heeding The young man who blurted out such a blunt question; Not one raised a head, or even made a suggestion; And the barber kept on shaving.
"Don't you see, Mr. Brown," Cried the youth, with a frown, "How wrong the whole thing is, How preposterous each wing is How flattened the head is, how jammed down the neck is-- In short, the whole owl, what an ignorant wreck 'tis! I make no apology; I've learned owl-eology. I've passed days and nights in a hundred collections, And can not be blinded to any deflections Arising from unskilful fingers that fail To stuff a bird right, from his beak to his tail. Mister Brown! Mister Brown! Do take that bird down, Or you'll soon be the laughing-stock all over town!" And the barber kept on shaving.
"I've _studied_ owls, And other night-fowls, And I tell you What I know to be true; An owl can not roost With his limbs so unloosed; No owl in this world Ever had his claws curled, Ever had his legs slanted, Ever had his bill canted, Ever had his neck screwed Into that attitude. He can't _do_ it, because 'Tis against all bird-laws. Anatomy teaches, Ornithology preaches, An owl has a toe That _can't_ turn out so! I've made the white owl my study for years, And to see such a job almost moves me to tears! Mr. Brown, I'm amazed You should be so gone crazed As to put up a bird In that posture absurd! To _look_ at that owl really brings on a dizziness; The man who stuffed _him_ don't half know his business!" And the barber kept on shaving.
"Examine those eyes. I'm filled with surprise Taxidermists should pass Off on you such poor glass; So unnatural they seem They'd make Audubon scream, And John Burroughs laugh To encounter such chaff. Do take that bird down; Have him stuffed again, Brown!" And the barber kept on shaving.
"With some sawdust and bark I could stuff in the dark An owl better than that. I could make an old hat Look more like an owl Than that horrid fowl, Stuck up there so stiff like a side of coarse leather. In fact, about _him_ there's not o
ne natural feather."
Just then, with a wink and a sly normal lurch, The owl, very gravely, got down from his perch, Walked round, and regarded his fault-finding critic (Who thought he was stuffed) with a glance analytic, And then fairly hooted, as if he should say: "Your learning's at fault _this_ time, anyway; Don't waste it again on a live bird, I pray. I'm an owl; you're another. Sir Critic, good day!" And the barber kept on shaving.
THE MOSQUITO
BY WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT
Fair insect! that, with thread-like legs spread out, And blood-extracting bill, and filmy wing, Dost murmur, as thou slowly sail'st about, In pitiless ears, fall many a plaintive thing, And tell how little our large veins should bleed Would we but yield them to thy bitter need.
Unwillingly, I own, and, what is worse, Full angrily, men listen to thy plaint; Thou gettest many a brush and many a curse, For saying thou art gaunt, and starved, and faint. Even the old beggar, while he asks for food, Would kill thee, hapless stranger, if he could.
I call thee stranger, for the town, I ween, Has not the honor of so proud a birth: Thou com'st from Jersey meadows, fresh and green, The offspring of the gods, though born on earth; For Titan was thy sire, and fair was she, The ocean-nymph that nursed thy infancy.
Beneath the rushes was thy cradle swung, And when at length thy gauzy wings grew strong, Abroad to gentle airs their folds were flung, Rose in the sky and bore thee soft along; The south wind breathed to waft thee on thy way, And danced and shone beneath the billowy bay.
