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第115章

My Orchestra is small--but I am sure it is very good--so far as it goes.I give my pianist ten pounds a night--and his washing.(That a good pianist could be hired for a small sum in England was a matter of amusement to Artemus.More especially when he found a gentleman obliging enough to play anything he desired, such as break-downs and airs which had the most absurd relation to the scene they were used to illustrate.In the United States his pianist was desirous of playing music of a superior order, much against the consent of the lecturer.)I like Music.--I can't sing.As a singist I am not a success.I am saddest when I sing.So are those who hear me.They are sadder even than I am.

The other night some silver-voiced young men came under my window and sang--"Come where my love lies dreaming."--Ididn't go.I didn't think it would be correct.

I found music very soothing when I lay ill with fever in Utah--and I was very ill--I was fearfully wasted.--My face was hewn down to nothing--and my nose was so sharp I didn't dare to stick it into other people's business--for fear it would stay there--and I should never get it again.And on those dismal days a Mormon lady--she was married--tho' not so much so as her husband--he had fifteen other wives--she used to sing a ballad commencing "Sweet bird--do not fly away!"--and I told her I wouldn't.--She played the accordion divinely--accordionly I praised her.

I met a man in Oregon who hadn't any teeth--not a tooth in his head--yet that man could play on the bass drum better than any man I ever met.--He kept a hotel.They have queer hotels in Oregon.I remember one where they gave me a bag of oats for a pillow--I had nightmares of course.In the morning the landlord said--How do you feel--old hoss--hay?--I told him I felt my oats.

(Though the serious part of the lecture was here entered upon, it was not delivered in a graver tone than that in which he had spoken the farcicalities of the prologue.Most of the prefatory matter was given with an air of earnest thought; the arms sometimes folded, and the chin resting on one hand.On the occasion of his first exhibiting the panorama at New York he used a fishing-rod to point out the picture with; subsequently he availed himself of an old umbrella.In the Egyptian Hall he used his little riding-whip.)Permit me now to quietly state that altho' I am here with my cap and bells I am also here with some serious descriptions of the Mormons--their manners--their customs--and while the pictures I shall present to your notice are by no means works of art--they are painted from photographs actually taken on the spot (They were photographed by Savage &Ottinger, of Salt Lake City, the photographers to Brigham Young.)--and I am sure I need not inform any person present who was ever in the territory of Utah that they are as faithful as they could possibly be.(Curtain.--The picture was concealed from view during the first part of the lecture by a crimson curtain.This was drawn together or opened many times in the course of the lecture, and at odd points of the lecture.I am not aware that Artemus himself could have explained why he caused the curtain to be drawn at one place and not at another.Probably he thought it to be one of his good jokes that it should shut in the picture just when there was no reason for its being used.)I went to Great Salt Lake City by way of California? (That is, he went by steamer from New York to Aspinwall, thence across the Isthmus of Panama by railway, and then from Panama to California by another steamboat.A journey which then occupied about three weeks.)I went to California on the steamer "Ariel."This is the steamer "Ariel." (Picture.)

Oblige me by calmly gazing on the steamer "Ariel"--and when you go to California be sure and go on some other steamer--because the Ariel isn't a very good one.

When I reached the "Ariel"--at pier No.4--New York--I found the passengers in a state of great confusion about their things--which were being thrown around by the ship's porters in a manner at once damaging and idiotic.--So great was the excitement--my fragile form was smashed this way--and jammed that way--till finally I was shoved into a stateroom which was occupied by two middle-aged females--who said, "Base man--leave us--O leave us!"--I left them--Oh--I left them!

We reach Acapulco on the coast of Mexico in due time.

Nothing of special interest occurred at Acapulco--only some of the Mexican ladies are very beautiful.They all have brilliant black hair--hair "black as starless night"--if Imay quote from the "Family Herald".It don't curl.--AMexican lady's hair never curls--it is straight as an Indian's.Some people's hair won't curl under any circumstances.--My hair won't curl under two shillings.

(Artemus always wore his hair straight until his severe illness in Salt Lake City.So much of it dropped off during his recovery that he became dissatisfied with the long meagre appearance his countenance presented when he surveyed it in the looking-glass.After his lecture at the Salt Lake City Theatre he did not lecture again until we had crossed the Rocky Mountains and arrived at Denver City, the capital of Colorado.On the afternoon he was to lecture there I met him coming out of an ironmonger's store with a small parcel in his hand."I want you, old fellow," he said; "I have been all around the city for them, and I've got them at last." "Got what?" I asked."A pair of curling-tongs.Iam going to have my hair curled to lecture in to-night.Imean to cross the plains in curls.Come home with me and try to curl it for me.I don't want to go to any idiot of a barber to be laughed at." I played the part of friseur.

Subsequently he became his own "curlist," as he phrased it.

>From that day forth Artemus was a curly-haired man.)(Picture of) The great thoroughfare of the imperial city of the Pacific Coast (with a sign saying "Artemus Ward, Platts Hall every evening.")The Chinese form a large element in the population of San Francisco--and I went to the Chinese Theatre.

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