The Art of Amusing

Later in the evening Young Hopeful horrified a circle of ladies by discovering at their feet a huge spider; in the midst of their shrieks and exclamations a courageous gentleman with large whiskers stepped forward to crush the intruder, raised his foot, and brought it down firmly, but staggered back astounded – the creature had exploded with a loud report, conveying an idea of vindictiveness and power truly appalling. The young gentleman took us aside and explained the mystery, at the same time producing from his pocket a small box containing some half-dozen similar spiders.

"I have them made on purpose for me," he said. "A German porter in our store first put me up to it, and I told him to set to work and make me as many as he liked, and charge me any price he chose. I tell ye, that Dutchman thinks I'm a great boy. I pay him about five dollars a week for spiders; well, you know, that's a good deal for a man like him; only gets twelve dollars a week in the store."

We examined the specimen carefully, and found it was constructed very much on the plan of the torpedoes used by children on the Fourth of July; only the paper was brown and a little thicker, and there were legs of fine wire attached, which gave it a very lifelike and spidery appearance. The Dutchman had evidently gone into the matter con amore, for he had taken the pains to wash some of his specimens with gum, and then sprinkle them with wool-dust to produce the appearance of what are called hairy spiders. About one-third of a grain of fulminating silver produces the explosion in each. They are very easily made.

As we steamed back to the great city of New York next day, Nix said he thought we had made a very good investment of three red-hot days of mid-summer time. We thought so, too.

CHAPTER XXIV

We are not a great advocate for arithmetical puzzles as a pastime for festive occasions, that is to say not as a general rule; but there are certain tricks of figures which are quite amusing, and some few problems which from their very simplicity become almost ludicrous. We have seen many a tolerably wise head puzzled over the question:

"If a barrel of flour cost thirty-nine dollars thirteen and three quarter cents, what will a penny loaf come to?"

And consume considerable time and paper without discovering the obvious fact, that a penny loaf will of course come to a penny and nothing else.

We remember, too, an amiable Divine, who tortured his dear old head for three-quarters of an hour to solve the question:

"If a shovel, poker, and tongs, cost thirteen dollars forty-three and a quarter cents, what will a ton of coals come to?"

And when informed that they would come to ashes, he seemed to feel quite hurt; and indeed, to labor for some time under a sense of having been trifled with. When told that it was merely a joke, a little fun, he replied that he was a great admirer of Don Quixote, could appreciate Gil Bias, and relished exceedingly the wit of Swift and Sterne; but failed to perceive the particular humor of our joke about the ton of coals.

With all due respect for the estimable prelate, we must venture to differ from him, fortified as we are in our opinion by a young lady, who, if not a divine herself, has a pair of eyes that are, in whose company we have solved some of the most intricate arithmetical jocularities and trivialities, till we were up to the eyes in ink and love. One we well remember, partly because it gave us so much trouble, and partly because there was a wild picturesqueness about the subject which appeals to our imagination. It ran thus:

A man has a wolf, a goat, and a cabbage, to carry over a river, but he can only convey them one at a time, his boat being very small. How is he to manage this, so that the wolf may not be left alone with the goat, nor the goat with the cabbage? It is obvious if the wolf be left with the goat, he will eat it up; whilst if the goat be left with the cabbage, short work will be made of that classic vegetable.

Oh, how often we crossed and recrossed that river; how often we took the goat out, and put the wolf in; and how frequently we took out the wolf, and put in the goat. How we trembled for the poor man, fearing there could be no alternative for him but to sacrifice either the goat or the cabbage, or else kill the wolf. How varied and wild were our expedients, such as throwing the wolf across, sending the cabbage round by express, digging a tunnel under the bed of the river, forcing the proprietor to eat the cabbage himself, towing the goat behind the boat, and other devices too numerous to mention, all of which we were assured, by those holding the key to the mystery, were altogether inadmissible; and then when, with humbled pride, we reluctantly gave it up, how mad we were at the simplicity of the solution, which was this:

He first takes over the goat, and then returns for the wolf; he then takes back the goat, which he leaves, and takes over the cabbage, he then returns and takes over the goat All as simple as A, B, C, when you know how to do it; that knowing how to do it is the great difficulty in ninety-nine out of every hundred things in this world.

Puzzles which involve long and laborious calculation are not in our line; they are too suggestive of the school and the country room. Something like the following is good for skirmishing:

PROBLEM

Put down four nines, so that they will make one hundred.

After a short struggle you surrender at discretion, and in an instant get the

SOLUTION999/9

There is no delay, no tedious figuring up; you get your answer and are ready for something fresh. Some such abstruse calculation as the following, for instance:

PROBLEM

If a herring and a half cost three cents, how many will you get for a dollar?

To ladies, who as a general rule have not the organ of calculation very largely developed, this will usually prove a poser. As the problem is to be solved by patience and study, we will leave them to do it, or give it up, and proceed to the next

PROBLEM

A gentleman sent his servant with a present of nine ducks in a box, upon which was the following direction: —

"To Alderman Gobble with IX. ducks."

The servant, who had more ingenuity than honesty, purloined three of the ducks, and contrived it so that the number contained in the box corresponded with that upon the direction. As he neither erased any word or letter, nor substituted a new direction, how did he so alter it as to correspond with the contents of the box?

The dishonest but ingenious servant simply placed the letter S before the two Roman numerals, IX. The direction then read thus:

"To Alderman Gobble, with SIX ducks."

It will be seen that this problem is very easy of solution to every one, save Artemus Ward, who would spell it Sicks dux in a bocks.

Here is one, however, which would suit the taste, if not the ability, of the great showman to a nicety:

PROBLEM

To distribute among three persons twenty-one casks of wine, seven of them full, seven of them empty, and seven of them half full; so that each of them shall have the same quantity of wine, and the same number of casks.

This problem admits of two solutions, which may be clearly comprehended by means of the two following tables:

One more problem, and we shall have had enough mathematics for one chapter.

A figure similar to the preceding can be formed without removing the pencil from the paper, without crossing any line or retracing any part. Now set to work and do it.

If you do not succeed, you may refer to the annexed diagram and solution.

Draw a line from 1 to 2, 2 to 3, 3 to 4, 4 to 5, 5 to 6, 6 to 1, 1 to 7, 7 to 8, 8 to 9, 9 to 3, 3 to 10, and 10 to 1.

CHAPTER XXV

We have observed that Tableaux and Charades run in some families, and that these families are always ready to spend any amount of time and money to carry out their favorite ideas; we cannot help feeling considerable admiration for any one having some honest enthusiasm for any amusement in this toiling age of ours. But our mission is not to deal much with the costly or complicated. Those who wish to produce tableaux from Waverley or the Bride of Abydos, who desire to attire themselves as Mary Queen of Scots, Di Vernon, or Dolly Varden, we leave to their own devices, giving only our best wishes. There are, however, charades to be got up on the spur of the moment, which are not less entertaining than the more elaborate performances to which we allude. We will mention one or two which have come under our observation during a chequered existence; they may serve to give the key-note, if nothing more.

On the occasion of a certain impromptu party, the lady of the house begged some of her guests to get up something which would entertain the rest, some charades, or what not. Two gentlemen consulted for a moment, and then took up their positions in the back of the parlor, which represented the stage. One sat down to read, whilst the other crept up slyly behind him, and much to his dismay turned off the gas. They then both rose and declared the charade completed, leaving it to the audience to divine the answer. Whether any one guessed it or not we do not know – but the answer was Gastric – Gas-trick.

Another gentleman then stepped into the stage, with a large hat at the back of his head, and began calling – "Mooley, mooley, mooley; com, com, mooley. Where kin that keow a poked herself now? she's allers a concealing of herself somewheres or another – mooley," etc.,

His riddle was now concluded, and he desired the audience to give him the answer.

The answer was Cow-hiding.

A famous physician and wit was the next to come forward, accompanied by a friend. They took positions in opposite corners of the room, advanced towards each other, and as they passed, the friend said to the doctor, "How do, Doctor?" To the surprise of all, they declared the charade completed. No one could guess it, of course; the answer was metaphysician, met-a-physician.

Again they took their positions precisely as before, announcing that they were about to give another charade. Again they walked across the room, and as they passed, one said to the other, "How do, again?" This was the conclusion of the second charade; quite as puzzling as the first, only more so. The answer was metaphor– met-afore. This absurdity was received with roars of laughter and thunders of applause.

Charades of this kind, we are inclined to think, give more real pleasure after all, than the studied, costly elaborations. They are perhaps not so pretty; but, ye gods! where there are pretty women, what else could mortal man desire in the way of beauty!

CHAPTER XXVI

A certain young lady with whom we are acquainted has discovered a new art, which seems to absorb a great portion of her being. It is a method by which almost anything may be transmuted into coral. The consequence of this discovery is that the English-basement house in which the maid in question dwells, is converted into a perfect mermaid's grotto. We told her so the other day, since which she has called us her Triton; and further intimated that in order to preserve the fitness of things, we might invite her to an oyster supper at Delmonico's. This hint we took with the avidity of a pickerel; but alas for the fickleness of woman, and our visions of marine happiness, the damsel changed her position and absolutely declined accepting our hospitality, even to the extent of a shrimp.

It is marvellous what very poor jokes afford rich amusement, when they are passed amongst intimate friends. When we called the lady in question, South Coral-ina, every one present seemed quite amused; indeed only one person, an obnoxious individual with large whiskers, seemed to resent it at all: – but now that the title by frequent repetition has assumed the character of a nickname, it is always received as an exquisite piece of humor. Numerous ramifications of this subject afford us endless themes for badinage.

We profess to ridicule the idea that involuntary servitude is abolished, when South Coral-ina holds ourselves and so many others in slavery. She retorts by calling us Neptune, and asking after the telegraph cable. When this badinage had been going on for some time, our friend Nix played quite a pretty hoax on the ladies. He arrived one evening with a somewhat dirty-looking basket on his arm filled with oysters. This was rather an inelegant thing to bring into the parlor, and naturally excited some surprise; but when he began to take out the grimy-looking bivalves, and one by one, hand them round to the ladies, there was a commotion bordering on indignation; the first lady declined to receive so plebeian a gift, whereupon Nix took a penknife from his pocket and opened it; revealing the inside lined with rich velvet, and bearing some trinket made of gold and pearls. This was in payment of a bet of an oyster supper which he had playfully made with and purposely lost to one of the ladies.

But to revert to our Coral. We often aided the fair mermaid in her manufactures, making sprays of coral nearly as large as in currant bushes, coral walking-canes, coral ear-rings, pen racks, paper weights, and other useful articles. We converted into coral – walnuts, small mud-turtles, birds' claws, sea-shells, and indeed almost everything on which we could lay our hands. Finally we took paterfamilias' felt hat one night and gave it a couple of coats of scarlet varnish, much to the astonishment of that good gentleman when he wished to put it on next morning.

The mode of making these coral ornaments is, of course, very simple; otherwise it would not find a place in this book:

RECEIPT

To two drachms of fine vermilion, add one ounce of clear resin, and melt them together; paint the object with this mixture while hot, and then hold it over a gentle fire till it is perfectly covered and smooth.

To make sprays of coral you should procure some twigs of thorn; peel and dry, before painting with the varnish.

The Nix gift of pearls has set all the ladies to work on a new idea – painting pictures in oil-colors on the inside of oyster shells; these are mostly marine subjects where the natural hues of the shell supply the requisite tints for the clouds and water. One of these little works represented a fish, where the sheen of the mother-of-pearl gave a marvellously natural effect to the scales and gills.

They have also taken to making pictures on egg-shells in water-colors, which are very pretty. One egg they tattooed all over with pen-and-ink arabesque, and emblazoned with crimson and gold. It looks very handsome, though possibly of not quite so much practical use as a locomotive or a reaping-machine. Still, let us always remember that quotation from Goethe:

"Encourage the beautiful, the useful will take care of itself!"

To which we might add a paraphrase of our own:

"Encourage the amusing, the dreary will take care of itself."

For our own part we have serious ideas of organizing a SOCIETY FOR THE ENCOURAGEMENT OF AMUSEMENT. We firmly believe that judicious and rational amusement tends more to make men healthy, wealthy, and wise, than ever did early rising, for which, nevertheless, we have profoundest respect.

CHAPTER XXVII

To those who are fond of charades, and indeed to all those good people who love to be merry, we commend what the French call charades en action, or pantomime charades. These charades, as the name indicates, are acted, not spoken. The great rule to be observed is silence, nothing more than an exclamation being allowed. In extreme cases, where it is utterly impossible to convey the idea by actions, a placard may be introduced bearing some helpful inscription, as in the case of Mr. Cuffy (in the charade on carpet which we shall presently give), who draws from his bosom a monster letter from Mr. Swab, which he displays to the audience. In addition to the information it conveys, the production of this preposterously large note is calculated to create a laugh.

The chief merit in a charade actor is inventive ingenuity in so, adapting the domestic adjuncts of an ordinary household as to supply the place of necessary theatrical properties and wardrobe. We have seen a very respectable Richard Cœur de Lion made up of the tinware of an ordinary cooking-range; and Queen Elizabeth, frill, hair and all, out of a few copies of the Daily Tribune. We have known a steam fire-engine to be manufactured out of a baby's crib and a tea-kettle; and Bunker Hill monument from two chairs, a fishing-rod, and a sheet. Those who have followed us so far through these pages, have gone through a good course of study, and will start with great advantages in the pursuit of charade-acting.

For the convenience of our clients we add a list of words which may be acted as charades.

CARPETA CHARADE IN THREE ACTSACT ICar – Dramatis Personæ,Car-Driver. Conductor. PassengersScene —Sixth Avenue, New York

Scene opens and discovers street-car driving furiously along, drawn by two chestnut acquaintances. Conductor and driver represented by two small boys. Car composed of lounge, clothes-horse, and two chairs, judiciously arranged and draped; wheels of band box-lids or circular tea-trays. Noise of car simulated by confederates outside shaking sleigh-bells or hand-bells, and drumming on door with fingers and hand; also rattling on floor with feet.

Enter some passengers, running and hailing car. Bell rings, by knocking goblet with spoon. Car stops.

Passengers rush towards car. Gentleman is in the act of stepping on car when bell rings, and car suddenly starts off, throwing gentleman violently to the ground. Great screaming and wailing; friends gather round and try to raise him; find he is insensible; all immediately begin shaking their fists at conductor; then simultaneously they bethink themselves of the propriety of taking the number of the car. All draw out their memorandum-books and commence writing. Conductor and driver make gestures of defiance.

Grand tableau.

ACT II– PetDramatis Personæ,Husband and Wife

Enter lady poutingly, followed by her husband, who tries to coax her into a good humor, but without avail. She persists in being in a pet. Husband and even

by his gestures promises to buy her shawls,dresses,a piano,a riding-horse.8

Finding all these promises are of no use, he begins to get excited; declares she shall have nothing; lady remains sulky; gentleman seizes his hat, rams it on his head, and exits. Lady walks off in the opposite direction, clenching her fists.

ACT IIICarpetDramatis Personæ,Irishman. Colored Man. Servant GirlScene —Street-door of fashionable house – door-plate of white paper on door bearing the name of Swab

Enter colored man,9 with his face well spotted with whitewash, who rings at door of fashionable house.

Irish servant appears with her sleeves rolled up and her dress pinned in the form of a dress-coat behind. She turns up her nose at darkey, who humbly intimates that he has called for the carpet. Girl slams the door in his face. Colored man considers this outrageous conduct, as he has been specially requested to call for orders, and produces the following note from Mr. Swab:

"Mr. Cuffy:

"Please call at No. 13 Fifth Avenue, for carpet.

"John Swab."

He points to note and name on door to show he has come to the right house.

Enter Irishman, who approaches Mr. Swab's door and rings bell; reappear girl, who smiles as she produces a roll of carpet. Cuffy steps forward and expostulates, showing Mr. Swab's letter. Irishman pitches into Cuffy, and a furious fight ensues, in which the girl joins with a broom.

THE END OF CARPETCATASTROPHEA CHARADE IN FOUR ACTSACT ICatDramatis Personæ,Cat. Dog. Old GentlemanScene —Backyard of city house, with small table placed on top of other table, to represent window

Enter cat (head done up in brown paper, with cat's face painted on it, brown paper ears, tail made out of lady's boa, black silk handkerchief, or any suitable thing).

Cat commences to meow and caterwaul. Old gentleman appears at window with nightcap on and sheet wrapped round him, and shakes his fist at cat. Cat continues to make a noise.

Old gentleman gets very angry, shakes both his fists, withdraws into room, reappears with hair-brush, which he throws at cat. Cat continues to make a noise. Old gentleman commences a fusilade of boots, books, combs, and toilet articles generally. Cat makes more noise than ever, putting up her back and spitting at the objects as they fell around her. The old gentleman is almost in despair, when suddenly a bright idea strikes him, which he expresses by pantomime, placing his finger to the side of his nose and winking. He disappears from the window. Presently is heard the rattling of a chain and barking of a dog.

Enter dog, barking furiously, and pursues cat out of yard. Old gentleman rubs his hands with glee, and pats dog on head. Dog frisks about.

ACT IIAssDramatis Personæ,Ass. Rag and Soap-fat Man. Servant GirlScene —Public Street

Enter rag and soap-fat man dragging donkey after him. Donkey dragging cart made of chair with bandbox-lid wheels, cart filled with odds and ends of tinware, old rags, etc. Donkey very obstinate; driver beats him with roll of stiff paper. Servant hails soap-fat man and offers for sale several large jarsful of drippings, sheets, pillow-cases, etc., belonging to her mistress. They chaffer for some time over the bargain, but finally agree upon a price. The money (all copper pennies) is about to change hands when the donkey, close by, gives an unearthly bray, which, to their guilty consciences, sounds like the voice of some avenging spirit; both scream, drop the money on the floor, and rush off; donkey turns round and runs off too.

ACT IIITrophyDramatis Personæ,SoldiersScene —A camp, tents made of sheets hung over chairs, etc

Enter soldiers, leading prisoners, and bearing ragged and shot-torn flag on broomstick, band playing trumpets (sheets of music rolled up), and beating drums (tin pails); they halt and form in line; the officer, by suitable gestures, calls attention to the trophy.

Enter general and staff. General makes a speech, pointing to the trophy, and then decorates their captain by pinning a medal (a circular soda-cracker fastened to a bit of red ribbon will do) on his breast. All strike an attitude, and the scene closes.

ACT IVCatastropheDramatis Personæ,Gentlemen. Ladies. Horses and PolicemenScene —Central Park

A superb carriage, made out of the lounge with bandbox-lid wheels, and drawn by a span of spirited bay gentleman, is discovered; an elegant youth is seated on the box driving, whilst the carriage is filled with a gay and festive party of youthful ladies and gentlemen.

Presently the horses become restive, plunge wildly about, and, in spite of all the efforts of the driver, dash the vehicle against a post; the inmates scream and tumble out. Enter two policemen, who seize the horses, put the driver on his legs, and carry the rest of the party to the hospital on stretchers made of the clothes-horse.

CHAPTER XXVIII

Those tranquil moods to which allusion has already been made on several occasions, have now become a decided feature in our character. There is certainly something very charming in the society of well-bred women. However, we hope before long we need not be forced from home to find that enjoyment. We have discovered the object of Nix's recent gifts of Brahminical works. It was a ponderous roundabout species of humor peculiar to Nix, the works in question being supposed to furnish appropriate study for a person in our presumed position as admirer of Bud (or Boodh).

Nix has for some time past made himself very wearisome with continual allusions to Vishnu, Siva, Buddhism, and so forth. We gained one idea, however, from his jest. We have written a Hindoo play, the plot of which turns on the love of a devout Brahmin. The play is entirely finished save the last act, which is complete up to the point where Neer Je Haun declares his love for the Unblown Rose.