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TALKS 
 
 GEORGE THATCHER 
 
 The Celebrated Minstrel 
 
 Containing nis 
 
 Monologues, Parodies, Songs, Sketches 
 Poems, Jokes, Etc., Etc. 
 
 Philadelphia 
 The Penn Publishing Company 
 
 1918 
 
7= 
 
 j '4 s ' 
 
 Copyright, 1890, by the rENN Publishing Company 
 
 Copyright, 191 8, by George Thatcher 
 
 Publisher 
 
 APR 2 1918 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 MONOLOGUES 
 
 PAGE 
 
 My Experience in the Dry Goods Business 7 
 
 A Few Remarks on Pants IO 
 
 A Lesson in Etiquette . . . . 13 
 
 When I was a Baker . « « 16 
 
 The Story of the Old Arm-Chair 17 
 
 My Son John 20 
 
 Patents Applied For • • . . . 23 
 
 Salt Water Adventures 27 
 
 Hard Luck 30 
 
 Hannah Beasley 33 
 
 V Quiet Summer Resort 35 
 
 vVhat I saw in Washington 39 
 
 rhe Hebrew Children 41 
 
 A. Fowl Proceeding 44 
 
 3 
 
4 CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 My Wife 46 
 
 My Boarding Houses . . , 49 
 
 The Horse Business 51 
 
 The Stock Broker 54 
 
 Superstition 58 
 
 The Census Enumerator 62 
 
 POETIC EFFUSIONS 
 
 The Minstrel's Seven Ages 66 
 
 Poetic Inspiration 69 
 
 Willie and nis Esmeralda 70 
 
 An Adhesive Poem 72 
 
 Only 73 
 
 A " Yaller " Dog's Love for a Nigger 75 
 
 PARODIES ON POPULAR SONGS 
 
 Down on the Farm 77 
 
 In the Gloaming 79 
 
 The Moss Covered Onion 80 
 
 Banana 81 
 
 The Blue Alsacian Mountains 83 
 
CONTENTS 5 
 
 PAGB 
 
 Think it Over c . 84 
 
 Home, Sweet Home 85 
 
 Grandfather's Pants 87 
 
 Montravers O'Brien • 89 
 
 SAMPLES OF MY PRIVATE CORRESPONDENCE 
 
 Ex-President Cleveland's Anniversary Letter (Written on his 
 
 50th Birthday) 96 
 
 John McCullough's Indorsement 96 
 
 An Invitation from Sara Bernhardt 97 
 
 From the Rev. Dr. Houghton 98 
 
 " Eli Perkins's " Letter 98 
 
 English Wit and Sarcasm 99 
 
 From a Composer 100 
 
 An Application from an "Artist " 101 
 
 The " Shindig " did it 103 
 
 A Lost Opportunity 103 
 
 Terms Accepted 104 
 
 A Good Subject 105 
 
 A Rival Intercepted ..♦....,..♦.. ioj 
 
6 CONTENTS 
 
 PAGB 
 
 Contrary Opinions 106 
 
 Written Under Difficulties 107 
 
 CONDENSED TALKS 
 
 On Various Subjects « HO 
 
 Clipping* from the Press 115 
 
 Advice to Amateurs 123 
 
 What Constitutes Successful Management 130 
 
 Valedictory • 138 
 
MONOLOGUES 
 
 MY EXPERIENCE IN THE DRY GOODS 
 BUSINESS 
 
 When I was a boy, a little after seven- 
 teen — about half-past seventeen — I was 
 compelled to stand behind a dry goods 
 counter all day long, and unless you have 
 had some experience as a (( tape wrestler," 
 you cannot imagine how irksome it becomes 
 to one of a sensitive nature and so highly 
 strung as I am. In fact, all my relations 
 are high strung. I had a cousin who was 
 hanged, but it wasn't through dry goods, 
 and it was very much against his will. He 
 was fortunate in one respect — he escaped 
 the trying existence of a dry goods cleik. 
 
 Just imagine three or four hundred ladies 
 coming in all at one time, asking different 
 
 7 
 
8 TALKS 
 
 questions and seeing who can give you the 
 most work. For instance, one of them 
 makes you pull down the top bolt on the 
 top shelf. You tell her you have the same 
 shade on the lower shelf. She says she 
 "don't like lower-shelf shade." Then you 
 have to climb up and pull down that bolt 
 of cloth for her. She looks at it, pinches 
 it, holds it up to the light, asks you " will 
 it wash?" "will it shrink?" "is it cut 
 bias?" or "who is it cut by?" Says, "I 
 don't think I'll take it — saw a remnant at 
 Wanamaker's, twenty-four cents a yard — 
 same stuff." All the time she's talking to 
 you she's got her eye on another bolt on 
 the top shelf You've got to get up after 
 that. By that time she has found out you 
 can climb. Then she says, " won't you 
 please tell me where the ribbon counter is," 
 and walks out of the store. 
 
 But that isn't anything. I was paid to do 
 that, and it was my business. But j ust fancy 
 the questions they asked me, and I only seven- 
 
TALKS 9 
 
 teen years old. A lady came into the store 
 one day and said, " Young man, have you got 
 any kids?" I bet I blushed — she meant gloves 
 — kid gloves. An old lady came in one day 
 and said she wanted some "Moreantique." I 
 said, "How much have you had now?" and 
 she said, "Had what?" I said, "How much 
 have you had on tick ?" Laws! but she was 
 mad. She took out her smelling bottle, 
 pulled out the cork, and I was laid up with 
 catarrh for three weeks. 
 
 A lady came in one day and said, "Can 
 I see your hose ?" I said, "Ma'am?" She 
 said, "Could I see your stockings?" I said, 
 "Now?" She said, ''Do you keep ladies' 
 hose ?" I said, " Yes'm, when we can't sell 
 'em we keep 'em." Then I asked her, 
 "What color?" and she said, "Solid color." 
 I asked her if she " lived in town ;" she 
 said, "Why do you ask ?" I told her "solid 
 colors prevail in the country," and sug- 
 gested stripes. " They're more worn," I 
 said — " worn more, \^ mean — don't mean 
 
IO TALKS 
 
 they're worn-out more — but they're worn — 
 more out — outside more." I got confused a 
 little, but I sold her the hose, at all events. 
 There was a woman came in the store 
 one day as black as the ace of spades — 
 a colored woman — and she wanted a pair 
 of flesh-colored stockings. I showed her 
 a black pair, and she pulled a stiletto out 
 of her hair and was going to stab me. 
 I said, " Madam, you asked for flesh-colored 
 stockings ; this is the nearest match we 
 have." But she wanted white people's flesh- 
 colored stockings. I sold her a pair ; they 
 must have been as becoming as a stick of 
 licorice in a plate of ice-cream. 
 
 A FEW REMARKS ON PANTS 
 
 I was coming down the street just now, 
 and upon my word I thought some lunatic 
 asylum had broken loose ; everybody was 
 
TALKS II 
 
 laughing at me, actually laughing because 
 the pockets of my coat hang down so much 
 lower than the rest of the garment. I 
 don't see anything to laugh at in that. Be- 
 sides, I couldn't stop and explain the reason 
 to everybody. I couldn't stop and say, eggs, 
 to every one, but that was it — eggs. Yes, I 
 had some eggs, and I was carrying them^ 
 and the eggs got bruised — broke, you know 
 — and a bruised egg isn't what it's cracked 
 up to be, and I took it to a cleaner's to have 
 it cleaned, and everything shrunk but the 
 pockets. I think I shall cut the pockets out, 
 for they seem to grow longer every day. It 
 would improve the appearance of the coat. 
 Then, again, if they keep on growing longer, 
 I may get enough out of them to make a 
 pair of pants. 
 
 By the way, speaking of pants, reminds 
 me of a conversation I had with a young 
 lady to whom I was paying my ad- 
 dresses. I am averse to paying anything 
 as a rule, but I , made an exception of 
 
12 TALKS 
 
 this particular young lady, and so- 
 well, that is neither here nor there. This 
 young lady, like most other young ladies, 
 had a dog — a pet dog — and it was nip and 
 tuck between myself and the other d — I 
 mean poodle, as to whose aforesaid ad- 
 dresses the young lady fancied the most. 
 It was a case of dog eat dog. 
 
 I suppose you don't see what this has to do 
 with pants, but I'm coming to it. Well, Fido 
 (that was the doggie's dog-on name) was 
 playing with me one day on the lawn. We 
 would bark at each other, then I'd snap and 
 show my teeth, all for the young lady's 
 amusement. Occasionally to vary the mo- 
 notony, I would throw a little rubber ball 
 and Fido would run and fetch it. Finally 
 Fido became exhausted, and I remarked to 
 my inamorata, "See how the little dog 
 pants." Do you know she took me up in 
 a moment, and said, "Georgy, you must 
 not say ' see how the little dog pants,' it's 
 vulgar. You must say ' see how the little 
 dog trowsers,' " 
 
TALKS 13 
 
 A LESSON IN ETIQUETTE 
 
 What a beautiful thing is etiquette! 
 When I was a boy that was the first thing 
 my mother taught me. That's the reason 
 I am so refined. Why, refinement was all 
 we knew at home. In fact, we kept what 
 you might call a refinery. You could find 
 etiquette all about the house. It's about 
 all you could find ; but we lived up to its 
 rules. 
 
 Mother was a strict etiquetarian ; but 
 there are different kinds of etiquette ; for 
 instance, there is table et- and street et- 
 and conversational et-, and et-cetera. Ohi 
 indeed, we made a constant study of Ches- 
 terfield — he used to board with us, he ex- 
 changed lessons for board. Now, for ex- 
 ample, take table etiquette; how simple 
 to live up to it, and be a gentleman. 
 "Chesty"— we always called him " Chesty," 
 for short — always impressed upon us that 
 w<s should never eat soup with a sponge ; 
 
14 TALKS 
 
 and then, again, he says : In the best 
 society — the bon-ton, if yon belong to the 
 400 — it is not good etiqnette, when yon sit 
 down to dinner, to take yonr shoes off. 
 
 Bnt when we had asparagus, ah ! that's 
 what used to tax our etiquette. We didn't 
 have it very often, but you know how, 
 etiquettly speaking, you have to dally with 
 it. We used to take a towel — we had no 
 napkins. Well, you take the towel, and 
 you wipe your " spar," so-see — just a plain 
 towel — no soap — just a plain, dry wipe, thus 
 — so it can't slip, when you are prepared to 
 seize it. Then you turn your back to the 
 guests at the table, and they all close their 
 eyes and look out the window. Then you 
 clutch the " spar " between your index 
 thumb and your convex finger, slide down 
 in your chair to an angle of twenty-five de- 
 grees, throw your head back, open your 
 mouth, and let her slide. 
 
 Then, again, we have conversational eti- 
 quette — that was my strong point, but there 
 
TALKS 15 
 
 are so many different views on this par- 
 ticular branch ; for instance, there is the 
 Boston and Chicago; see how they differ. 
 I'll show you an example that came under 
 my observation a short time ago. A Bos- 
 ton young man and his Chicago lady love; 
 he — the young Bostonese — breaking the 
 silence one evening, said to his Chicagoeses : 
 "Rosalie" (she, coming from Chicago, he 
 called her Rosalie, the Prairie* flower) her 
 name wasn't Prairie flower, it was Rosalie 
 Foot — you know what a Chicago foot is — but 
 I digress. He said, " Rosalie, I have been 
 musing on Browning, immortal Browning ; 
 his words are ever like a mystic throb, and 
 Swinburne, too ; what a divine master of 
 sensuous perspective. I hardly know which 
 I poetically adore the most. Tell me, Ro- 
 salie, which do you like the better ?" That's 
 Boston. Then what do you think the Chi 
 cago young lady replied? " Cheese it, Jim 
 you're off your base " There's a contrast. 
 
16 TALKS 
 
 WHEN I WAS A BAKER 
 
 Among my various pursuits in life I 
 know of no occupation that ever impressed 
 me more forcibly than the bakery business. 
 Yes, I was once upon a time a baker. There 
 are many worse men than bakers ; history, 
 that is, ancient history, tells us that the 
 bakers are a rising generation. When I 
 was in that line I used to board in a house 
 with seven other bakers. We all slept 
 in one bed, and when we wanted to turn 
 over we all had to turn at once. I was the 
 one that used to say " turn," and another 
 fellow used to say "ready." As soon as 
 they were all ready I'd say " turn," and 
 the other fellow would say u ready" and 
 over they'd go. 
 
 One night there was a new boarder at 
 the house, another baker, and he made eight; 
 he was a stranger, and when they all got 
 ready to turn, the other fellow said " ready," 
 and I said " turn," but the new man didn't 
 
TALKS 17 
 
 understand it, and lie got his arm broken. 
 
 I was a moral young man when I was 
 a baker. I used to go to church every 
 Sunday, but there is one particular Sunday 
 that is vividly impressed upon my mind. 
 The preacher was telling us all about what 
 was right and what was wrong, but un- 
 fortunately I was half asleep. I don't ex- 
 actly remember which half, but the preacher 
 was very earnest, and he told us to prepare 
 ourselves, and he shouted out " are you 
 ready ? — are you ready?" — just then I woke 
 up quick and said "turn." I was so 
 ashamed of myself that I didn't go to church 
 again for two years. 
 
 THE STORY OF THE OLD ARM-CHAIR 
 
 I want to tell you a little story about an 
 old lady. To begin with, or, that is, to 
 finish with, to begin my story and to finish 
 the old lady, she died. Of course, am old 
 
18 TALKS 
 
 •ady dies every day, but not this particular 
 old lady to whom I refer. Well, as I was 
 saying, this old lady was very rich, she was 
 worth one hundred thousand dollars when 
 she died, and you know it's as hard for a 
 rich person to die as it is for a camel to go 
 to Heaven. I think I've reversed that, but 
 I want to give the camel a chance. 
 
 Well, when the old lady died she was 
 dead, and she didn't know her destination, 
 but she sent for her summer clothes. You 
 see, the papers said she died intestate, but 
 she died in New York State. She had two 
 boys, both sons, and she left one of the 
 boys, the other one the money, and the 
 other, other one, son, boy, got just a com- 
 mon arm-chair. Of course, the other boy, 
 son, why he laughed a sarcastic laugh at 
 his brother, but he just took the chair, and 
 he got married. After he got married his 
 wife took the chair. 
 
 And all this time the other son was hav- 
 ing a high old time with his hundred thou- 
 
TALKS 19 
 
 sand dollars, buying lottery tickets and pea- 
 nuts, and all sorts of luxuries. 
 
 Business was awful bad with the other 
 boy that had the arm-chair. You see, he 
 was a musician ; he used to play the banjo 
 at funerals ; he would get a dollar and a 
 quarter a funeral, but the people round 
 about where he lived were so healthy they 
 wouldn't die, so he set up in a new busi- 
 ness. He was a fretter. I guess you don't 
 know what that is, so I'll explain it. You 
 see, if anybody in town was worried or 
 owed any money or had to meet a note and 
 couldn't do it, why they used to hire him to 
 fret for them, and they could go home and 
 sleep or go about their business. It was a 
 great relief to their minds, but there was so 
 much opposition he had to give it up. So 
 one day he came home loaded with grief 
 and something stronger, and he threw him- 
 self in the old arm-chair just as hard* as he 
 could throw his two hundred and fifty 
 pounds — you see he weighed quite some— 
 
20 TALKS 
 
 and the concussion of all those pounds com- 
 ing down so unexpectedly on the venerable 
 old chair caused a demolition. The old 
 chair went into splinters, and, lo! and be- 
 hold, hid in its own concealment, in the 
 bottom of the chair was two hundred thou- 
 sand dollars ; and he went to his brother^ 
 the other son, who wouldn't give him any- 
 thing, and gave him the same, and said, 
 " Wouldn't you like to have the old arm- 
 chair ?" 
 
 Then he went to Congress, and nobody 
 has ever heard of him since. 
 
 MY SON JOHN 
 
 Talk about boys ! I've got one, and for 
 downright stupidity he certainly is beyond 
 anything I ever saw in all my life. The 
 word stupid is not .strong enough, it does 
 not half express it. He does some of the 
 most outlandish things I ever heard tell of. 
 
TALKS 21 
 
 Now, for an example. My wife sent him 
 to the butcher's one day last week to see if 
 he had pig's feet. He came back and told 
 his mother he couldn't tell, the butcher had 
 his shoes on. Stupid and lazy ! Well, the 
 fact is he was born tired. Why when we 
 want to get him up early in the morning 
 we have to wake him up two hours before 
 he goes to bed. 
 
 He goes to Sunday-school, and what do 
 you think he said last Sunday ? You see, 
 the teacher always asks the same questions 
 every Sunday. She says to the first boy, 
 " Who made you ?" Then the little boy re- 
 plies, " The Ivord made me." Then she 
 asks the next boy — that's my boy, he's No. 
 2 — " Who was the first man ?" And he says, 
 ''Adam," and so on down to the foot of the 
 class. Well, last Sunday the first boy was 
 absent, so that made my boy first, and the 
 teacher began with " Who made you ?" My 
 boy said, "Adam." Then the teacher cor- 
 rected him and said, " No, no, the Lord 
 
22 TALKS 
 
 made you." Then my boy said, " No, sir ; 
 the little boy the L,ord made didn't come to- 
 day." 
 
 Oh ! he's a great boy, and to add to his 
 other accomplishments, he's the biggest 
 coward of his size I ever saw. He is fright- 
 ened to death at thunder and lightning. 
 Last night he was up-stairs in his bed, his 
 mother was in the parlor, and it was rain- 
 ing very hard, with an occasional burst of 
 thunder. Suddenly his mother heard him 
 cry and scream at the top of his voice. She 
 ran up-stairs, frightened to death. She 
 thought he had a fit, or something. He was 
 sitting straight up in bed and screaming 
 that he was afraid of the lightning. His 
 mother said, " Don't be afraid, Johnny, re- 
 member the Lord is with you ; nothing can 
 hurt you." " Is He here now, in this room?'* 
 he asked. " Yes," his mother said, " He's 
 always with you." She went down-stairs 
 after reassuring him, but she had hardly 
 reached the foot of the stairs when there 
 
TALKS 23 
 
 was a terrible clap of thunder that shook 
 the whole house, and Johnny shouted, " Say, 
 mother, you come up-stairs and stay with 
 the Lord, and I'll go down in the parlor." 
 
 PATENTS APPLIED FOR 
 
 I have a friend ; that is, he isn't a friend, 
 but he lives next door to me. His wife 
 borrows coal from my wife, and he's a pecu- 
 liarly eccentric individual. He's always 
 talking about inventions, and going to 
 Washington to patent them. You see, when 
 you get out anything new, and want to 
 secure it, you have to go to Washington, 
 and go up to the Patent Office, and ask for 
 Mr. Patent, and tell him what you have got, 
 and he says ten dollars, or ten hundred, it 
 just depends upon what kind of humor he is 
 in, and that protects you — till some othei 
 fellow gets out an invention just like it, 
 and don't go to Washington. Then you 
 
24 TALKS 
 
 both engage lawyers, and when yon get 
 through, the lawyers own both the inven- 
 tions, and have mortgages on your life-in- 
 surance policies, and all the other little 
 delicacies. 
 
 My neighbor, the one I was speaking of, 
 has talked inventions to me till I must con- 
 fess I have the patent fever myself, but not 
 so bad as Blobsom — that's my neighbor's 
 name — he is certainly in a fair way to go 
 to an insane asylum on the subject — he 
 would if it wasn't for the coal. He called to 
 me over the fence last Wednesday. " Hello, 
 old man," says he. "What's wrong, Blob?" 
 says I — I call him Blob for short, short 
 Blob. But his name isn't Blob for short — 
 though he's usually in that condition 
 Well, to continue, he said, " I've got a great 
 invention." " What is it ?" said I. " I've 
 got an invention for removing stains from 
 coal — I mean clothing." Of course, being 
 a little interested in inventions, I asked 
 him the nature of the new discovery. He 
 
TALKS 25 
 
 replied, " You take a pair of pants with a 
 big spot on them, see ?" I told him I was 
 not in the habit of taking spotted pants if 
 they didn't belong to me. Then he lncidly 
 explained — so that I comprehended his 
 meaning — and said, " Yon take the pants, 
 and hold them in your left hand thus, and 
 in your right hand take a pair of scissors, 
 and yon cut the spot out." " But," said I, 
 " yon rnin the pants." " I know," said he, 
 " bnt I get the spot out." 
 
 Then he told me about an invention for 
 removing the odor of paint from a house. 
 What do you think it was ? To " fry 
 onions." I asked him how he was going to 
 get rid of the smell of the onions, and he 
 said, " Put on a fresh coat of paint." Oh ! 
 he is a wonderfully inventive genius. 
 
 But I am going to apply for a patent on one 
 of my own inventions in a few days. It will 
 be a great benefit to the laboring classes — a 
 blessing to the poor working-man, who 
 comes home from a hard day's labor, and 
 
26 TALKS 
 
 has to climb up five stories. His wages 
 won't permit him to live any higher, and 
 the stony-hearted landlord makes him keep 
 his coal way down in the cellar. I think it 
 is simply barbarism — home the poor fellow 
 comes, tired out, eats his supper, goes to 
 bed, gets up at six, and has to carry the 
 coal up those five flights of stairs to build 
 the fire. Now, he can obviate that, he can 
 do as I do — send his wife down. 
 
 But that isn't the patent, that one's a little 
 convenient invention of my own. I'll take 
 you into my confidence, and tell you what my 
 patent is. It's a rat-trap, for trapping raps 
 — I mean for rapping traps — I should say 
 for trapping rats. It's very simple. It's a 
 round, oblong, square sort of an oblique, 
 triangular object. Well, you get a piece of 
 cheese, about as large as an ordinary piece 
 of cheese, and you put it in the trap, attach- 
 ing it to the automatic valve, on the left of 
 the perpendicular observatory, and then you 
 get a rat. If you haven't got one, you borrow 
 
TALKS 27 
 
 one from the neighbors. If you can't bor- 
 row one, you find a convenient rat-hole. 
 Then you place the trap in front of the hole, 
 and you take a newspaper. Then you sit 
 down on the floor close to the cheese — I 
 should say trap — and hold the paper in 
 front of you, and stay there till the rat 
 comes out. Then he goes in the trap and 
 eats the cheese, and finally, if you keep 
 perfectly quiet, he will devour so much of 
 the cheese, will get so overcome, through 
 his gluttony, that he can't move. Then 
 you remove the newspaper, and make faces 
 at him till he dies. 
 
 SALT-WATER ADVENTURES 
 
 I am very fond of the briny deep. I al- 
 ways had a desire to lead a seafaring life, 
 and yacht-racing was always a weakness of 
 mine. There was a big yacht-race arranged 
 last summer, and all the crack crafts from 
 
28 TALKS 
 
 every part of the navigable country were to 
 take part. " Thousands of vessels will go 
 down there loaded with people," I said to 
 myself; " and there won't be pilots enough 
 there for all of them." So I concluded to 
 go down and get a position as pilot and 
 make a little money. Perhaps you don't 
 know what a pilot is, so I will explain. A 
 pilot is a man who steers vessels across the 
 bar. Of course, you know that a bar is a 
 place where water is scarce and danger is 
 near. Now, when I got down there I com- 
 menced steering too many schooners across 
 the bar and I had to come back. When I 
 was tacking, I struck another bar and came 
 near swamping. But I could live on the 
 water — with an occasional accompaniment. 
 My brother Bill and I went to sea once. It 
 wasn't our fault, but we were both so incor- 
 rigible that mother concluded to put us out 
 of harm's way, but before she sent us on 
 board ship she concluded to give us another 
 trial. She was very fond of us, though, but 
 
TALKS 29 
 
 she was afraid of us. She heard there was 
 going to be an earthquake down our way- 
 she didn't care any more for earthquakes 
 than she did for father, so she wrote a note 
 to my Aunt Cyntha down the country and 
 told her to look out for Bill and me. She 
 said she was going to send us down to stay 
 a couple of weeks till the earthquake was 
 over. We only staj^ed down there about 
 ten hours, when Aunt Cyntha sent us back 
 to mother and sent word to send down the 
 earthquake. That settled it. The very 
 next day we were shipped before the mast — 
 that is, we went the same time the mast did. 
 Bill didn't like it a bit. I'll never forget 
 one night on board. You see, there was a 
 cannon on board. I said to Bill, " Let's fire 
 it off." He said, " The captain might hear 
 us." " I guess not," said I ; " we can fix 
 that." So I told Bill to take a bucket that 
 was on deck and hold it over the mouth of 
 the cannon to deaden the sound; so he held 
 it over the muzzle and held on to the rail. 
 
3° TALKS 
 
 The cannon went off, and Bill went with it. 
 The captain came on deck, looked around, 
 and asked for Bill. I told him he had gone 
 to fetch a bucket of water. Then he asked 
 me when he would be back, and I said if he 
 came as quick as he went he was due now. 
 
 Mother never knew what became of Bill 
 after that, neither did L 
 
 HARD LUCK 
 
 I think I am the most unfortunate man 
 in the world. Of late everything I under- 
 take seems to go the wrong way. Last night, 
 however, I thought I was going to have my 
 luck changed. A man came up to me and 
 said, " George, I'll give you a dollar and a 
 half to go out to Manayunk and back for 
 me if you will do it in twenty minutes. " 
 
 I knew I couldn't do it, but I needed the 
 money, so I looked all around for a hack. 
 They wanted two dollars, a dollar and 
 seventy-five cents, and a dollar and a 
 
TALKS 31 
 
 quarter. I couldn't get any one to go for a 
 dollar and a half. Finally I ran across one 
 of these old night-hawks. You've seen 
 them; they tie their hacks together with 
 strings. They usually have a rope and 
 pulley for harness to keep the poor old horse 
 on his feet. 
 
 Well, I got inside, and the "Jehu" 
 slammed the door. I couldn't get out if I 
 wanted to. No doubt you've seen the kind 
 of hacks I refer to. I told him to drive 
 fast, and he went along at a six-forty gait, 
 and when I shouted faster, he started the 
 old nag up, and how it did shake that poor 
 dilapidated rig ! Then I screamed aloud, 
 " Not so fast," but he thought I said faster, 
 and on he went. Presently we got down to 
 the crossing and the bottom fell out of the 
 hack, and I had to run all the way inside of 
 it out to Manayunk. 
 
 But it was just my luck. Why, if it was 
 raining soup I'd be caught with a fork in my 
 pocket. Speaking, of soup reminds me. I 
 
32 'TALKS 
 
 was so hungry the other day that I could 
 hardly close ray teeth, but ray natural pride 
 forbid my making known my condition. I 
 could have eaten anything. Finally I 
 passed by a beautiful residence, with a nice 
 lawn in front. You can hardly believe it, 
 but I was in such a state, I opened the 
 gate, went right in on that lawn, and the 
 grass looked so green and tempting I began 
 to eat it. Just then a very beautiful young 
 lady looked out of the upper window at me 
 with a most pitiful expression, and said, 
 "Are you hungry, young man?" I said, 
 " Yes, Miss, I am starving." I could not 
 keep the secret any longer, so she said, 
 " Wait a minute,'' and then went away. I 
 saw visions of boned turkey and terrapin 
 in the distance, but presently she returned 
 and said, " Young man, pa says you can go 
 in the back yard, the grass is longer there.'' 
 
TALKS 33 
 
 HANNAH BEASLEY 
 
 I hope nobody saw me as I came around 
 the corner just now. I happened, by the 
 purest accident, to meet Miss Beasley — Han- 
 nah — and she walked all the way up to the 
 corner, and she talks, laws ! you can hear 
 her half a mile. She takes up more room 
 with her voice than any one I ever saw — her 
 voice does travel ! But she is a nice girl, 
 and she's a little bit gone on me I think, 
 but I can't help that. If I don't recipro- 
 cate, it isn't anybody's fault. 
 
 She has a nice gait though, but her nose! 
 Well, you talk about noses. She wore it off 
 looking through window-panes at parades. 
 She isn't very pretty, in fact, she never dares 
 go out on Sunday with her face, she'd break 
 the Sabbath with it; but she can't help that. 
 It was a birthday present. And then bet 
 feet ! Well, they're of such dimensions that 
 she has to wear her brother's shoes. I never 
 saw such feet, and they aren't mates, either- 
 
34 TALKS 
 
 But I don't like to talk about her, poor girl ; 
 she isn't well — far from it — she is quite ill. 
 Her brother says she has one foot in the 
 grave already. There is one consolation 
 for the family, she'll never get the other one 
 in, not in the same grave, at all events. I 
 didn't think she would speak to me to-da}^ — 
 in fact, I heard she was around looking for 
 me with a Wade & Butcher, but I ex- 
 plained the matter and my mind is easier. 
 
 It was such a foolish thing to get mad 
 about — just about a dog — a common yaller 
 dog. I promised her the dog and he died, 
 so I wrote her a letter, and I just said in it, 
 " Dearest Hannah, I write to let you know 
 the dog I promised you is dead, and I hope 
 these few lines will find you the same." 
 Now what trifles some women will get mad 
 about ! She's not bright, and sometimes 
 says very peculiar things. What do you 
 think! I was passing a grocery store with 
 her just before I came here, and there was 
 a basket of cocoanuts out in front, and she 
 
TALKS 35 
 
 hollered right out, "O George! just look 
 at those potatoes with whiskers.'' 
 
 The first time I met Hannah was down 
 at Atlantic City, two years ago, come sum- 
 mer before last summer. She was bathing 
 — she weighs about 350 pounds, and if you 
 could only see her float ! She had her feet 
 with her, too, and she dives with such agil- 
 ity for a fleshy lady — head first — she has to^ 
 if she went feet first she'd never come up 
 again. This particular day when I saw 
 her she was floating along, on the top of 
 the water, her feet up above the tide, and a 
 thousand people stood on shore waving their 
 handkerchiefs. 
 
 They all thought it was a boat race. 
 
 A QUIET SUMMER RESORT 
 
 Last summer I made up my mind to have 
 a quiet, old-fashioned, peaceful time. I had 
 tried Saratoga, Long Branch, the Catskills, 
 
36 TALKS 
 
 Atlantic City, and in fact all the fashionable 
 resorts, but I longed for a real old, go-to- 
 bed-at-nine-and-get-up-at-five resort. So I 
 determined to find some spot away from the 
 railroads, some sequestered farm-house that 
 could accommodate me during the heated 
 term. At last, after reading the advertise- 
 ments in a morning paper, I struck one that 
 seemed to suit my fancy, and I opened ne- 
 gotiations at once. 
 
 At the end of a week I was ensconced on 
 old Job Robinson's farm in upper New Jer- 
 sey. Oh, it was such a change ! — try it ; 
 you have no idea what an appetite it gives 
 one. Just think of it ! You get up in the 
 morning at five o'clock, take a walk out in 
 the back lot, about a quarter of a mile from 
 the house, and pump water in an antiquated 
 tin wash-pan, and with a piece of brown 
 soap that's left from Monday's wash you 
 proceed to take your morning's ablution. 
 Then you dry your face and hands with the 
 grass, sit down on a hard bench and look at 
 
TALKS 37 
 
 the cows for about an hour, until breakfast 
 is ready. Such a delightful breakfast ! 
 Ham ! But the breakfast is not to be com- 
 pared with dinner, for then you have — 
 ham. Then you go out in the sunny 
 fields and watch them plough, and for nov- 
 elty's sake you take a turn at it yourself. 
 Oh! it is such amusement to yell "jee,whoa" 
 and " gee up " for about five hours ; it ex- 
 pands the lungs, and it gives one such an 
 appetite for supper. That is the great meal 
 of the day — and consists of — ham ! After 
 the third ham — I should say meal — you all 
 sit down in the parlor and sing hymns till 
 bed-time, and then finally retire to a nice 
 airy room. 
 
 I could hear the rain patter on the roof, 
 and whatever skipped the roof pattered all 
 over the bed. I got up one rainy night to 
 look for a life preserver, and my foot went 
 down through a stove-pipe hole. After I 
 extricated myself I stepped on a lot of 
 chestnut burs, and to add to my rural bliss. 
 
38 TALKS 
 
 when I went to jump back in bed I ran a 
 scythe in my eye. My bed was evidently 
 framed on a new patent. I think they 
 called it a toboggan couch. I kept sliding 
 down all night. I woke up one morning 
 with both feet in a milk-can. 
 
 I shall never forget one morning about 
 daybreak, after going through one of my 
 usual evenings of broken repose, I espied 
 on one of the rafters a bottle with an old 
 familiar label, bearing the appearance of 
 age, and though the cobwebs had settled 
 on it I could, from the point of view I oc- 
 cupied, just distinguish those two gladden- 
 ing 'words, " Old Crow." I said to myself, 
 " How thoughtful of the dear old farmer" 
 — and as I proceeded to revel in its con- 
 tents, I forgave them for the ham and 
 chestnut burs. I forgot the scythe and 
 stove-pipe hole, and with one gulp I swal- 
 lowed half the contents of the bottle before 
 I discovered what it was. Horrible to re- 
 late — it was goose grease ! 
 
TALKS 39 
 
 WHAT I SAW IN WASHINGTON 
 
 I have just returned from Washington, 
 D. C. I dare say you can tell that by the 
 look of anguish on my countenance. 
 Henceforth forever and hereafter I forswear 
 politics. What is the use of a man sitting 
 up all night helping a candidate to spend 
 his money, if, after the aforesaid candidate 
 is elected, he forgets how, when he has 
 shouted, " Set 'em up," you have responded 
 to his patriotic appeal. 
 
 Politics are a thing of the past with me, 
 and Washington — well, I have up my mind 
 to forget that such a place exists. I couldn't 
 find my friend ; he was on the Committee 
 of Ways and Means. He always had a 
 mean way about him, anyhow. I went up 
 to the Capitol and asked an old gentleman 
 there if he knew my friend, and he said he 
 thought he belonged in the House. I said I 
 thought so too 5 at least at bed-time, but he 
 
40 TALKS 
 
 never was there. He said, "Where?" I 
 said, " In his house." The old gent 
 laughed and quit me. Then I inquired of 
 another party, and he said he was on the 
 Investigating Committee. I ventured to 
 ask him in what scheme they were going 
 to invest, and he said, " A scheme to make 
 chickens lay boiled eggs." I asked, " How ?" 
 And he said, " By pouring hot water down 
 their throats." 
 
 Talk about there being no more cranks 
 in Washington ! Why, there are more 
 cranks to the square inch than you will find 
 on all the base-ball grounds in the Players' 
 League. I was bound not to leave there 
 until I got some satisfaction. So I went up 
 to the White House and saw " Bennie." I 
 didn't call him by his first name then. I 
 simply rang the bell and told the man that 
 came to the door that I had come a long 
 way and wanted to see Mr. President Har- 
 rison. And he said, " Your name?" And 
 almost as soon as I told him, I was shown 
 
TALKS 41 
 
 Into the Blue Room. By the way, that is a 
 very appropriate name for a reception-room 
 for office-seekers. I said, " Mr. President, 
 do you recognize me?" And he replied, 
 " Oh ! yes ; I recognize you, but I can't place 
 you." He said t should have the first 
 vacancy, so I wandered around for a day or 
 two and became very disconsolate. Sud- 
 denly, one morning, while walking along 
 the banks of the Potomac, I saw the body 
 of a man floating in the river. I recognized 
 it as one of the watchmen of the Treasury 
 building. I rushed up to the President at 
 once and told him about the vacancy. 
 What do you think he said? " Too late — 
 I've just appointed the man that saw him 
 
 fall in." 
 
 ♦ 
 
 THE HEBREW CHILDREN 
 
 Some of the best friends I have are He- 
 brews, and when you find them as such 
 they are staunch ones, and besides a He- 
 
42 TALKS 
 
 brew can appreciate a joke — even at his 
 own expense — as long as it is within the 
 limits of reason. There are quite a number 
 of them where I board. Isidore Yesky is 
 staying there now. He don't belong in 
 town ; he's a merchant up on the Hudson. 
 They tell a story of Isidore something like 
 this : He had bought a great many bills 
 of goods from Cohen, Cohen & Cohen, and 
 that firm, feeling magnanimous, concluded 
 to remember him. So they sent the drum- 
 mer, Moritz Plovosky, who had made the 
 sales to Yesky, and gave him a necktie to 
 present to Isidore. Now, Isidore naturally 
 became angry at so trifling a present, 
 whereupon the drummer returned and told 
 the senior partner that Isidore wouldn't take 
 the necktie. So the senior partner said: 
 " Did he buy much goods, lately ?" (meaning 
 Isidore). " Yes," said the drummer, "he 
 bought a thousand-dollar order last week." 
 u Did he pay cash ?" asked the elder Cohen. 
 "Five hundred dollars cash, and he gave 
 
TALKS 43 
 
 us his note for five hundred dollars," said 
 the drummer. " Well, then, give him the 
 note." So Mr. Drummer came back to 
 Isidore and remarked : " The firm have re- 
 considered about the necktie, and they have 
 concluded to give you, for a present, your 
 note." Then Isidore asked : " Did the 
 firm endorse my note?" " No," was the 
 reply. " Then give me the necktie," said 
 Isidore. 
 
 There's another Hebrew gentleman and 
 his family boarding up at our house — Mr. 
 Rosenthal, and he has a very bright little 
 boy, Jakey, who is only seven years old. 
 Jewish children I find to be, as a class, par- 
 ticularly sharp. They seem to have a 
 natural instinct for shrewdness. Last week 
 there was a new arrival in the Rosenthal 
 family — a darling little baby boy, and Mr. 
 Rosenthal called little seven-year-old Jakey 
 in to see the little stranger. He said, 
 " Jakey, come up-stairs ; I want to show you 
 the little baby brother I bought you for a 
 
44 TALKS 
 
 present." Jakey obeyed the summons^ 
 looked the baby over, and after a close in- 
 spection discovered a birth-mark behind his 
 left ear. Then taking his paternal aside, he 
 whispered to him, " Fader, take him back 
 again, he's damaged." 
 
 A FOWL PROCEEDING 
 
 If there is one thing more than another 
 I am fond of it is chickens. I have a per- 
 fect mania for raising fowls of every de- 
 scription, except in base-ball ; those are not 
 the fowls I allnde to. I mean fowl chick- 
 ens. Chickens that are fowl — that is to say 
 —well, chickens. I have made a study of 
 them and I consider the chicken a wonder- 
 ful bird. Just see how much sense — good, 
 common, sound sense — a chicken possesses, 
 how knowing, and withal, how patient and 
 how absorbed they are in attending to tLeir 
 own business. I really believe they are in- 
 tellectually our equals. 
 
TALKS 45 
 
 A friend of mine went down to the mar- 
 ket to buy some eggs. Now a chicken don't 
 have to buy eggs. Well, he bought a dozen 
 and took them home and gave them to the 
 cook for the morning's breakfast ; the cook, 
 who went out to see her beau, came to look 
 for the eggs in the morning and found that 
 she had mislaid them. Now that is some- 
 thing a hen never does. And as for pa- 
 tience — see how patient a hen is. Why r 
 she will sit on a couple dozen of eggs fot 
 hours at a time. If a man had to sit on 
 one for five minutes he would kick. I've 
 been in the commission business and know 
 whereof I speak. 
 
 I used to handle eggs. They are very 
 nice to handle, but to have them handed to 
 you is not so agreeable — that is, handed at 
 a long distance — particularly if the egg is 
 premature — to come from a long distance it 
 takes a long time, and age will creep o'er 
 the spirit of that egg ere it reaches you, 
 and when it becomes aged, when it has 
 
46 TALKS 
 
 passed its prime into the "seer and yellow,* 
 to which Shakespeare so beautifully refers 
 — when it becomes a bald-headed egg and 
 wears spectacles, it should then be sent to a 
 home for indigent eggs, that it might not 
 waste its sweetness on the desert air. 
 
 MY WIFE 
 
 If I had taken the advice of my sister 
 Clarissa and profited by her experience, I 
 never would have entered the connubial 
 bonds of blissful married life. Poor Cla- 
 rissa, she married a man by the name of 
 Dust — Clarence Dust. After she had been 
 married about a week they commenced to 
 fight, and one morning about one o'clock 
 she rang the bell. The old man — pa — poked 
 his head out of the window and said, 
 "Who's there?" She said, " It's me, pa- 
 Clarissa — Clarissa Dust. I can't live with 
 that man any longer. I want you to take 
 
TALKS 47 
 
 me back/' But pa wouldn't do it, lie just 
 looked at her and said, "Dust thou art, and 
 to Dust thou shalt return." 
 
 So Clarissa's living with me and my wife 
 now, and it does her heart good to see us 
 fight — that is, my wife, she does all the 
 fighting. Why it's got so bad, I had to 
 call in a policeman one day and have her 
 arrested. He took her before the judge, and 
 after hearing all the particulars the judge 
 fined her ten dollars. But that wasn't the 
 worst of it, I had to pay the fine. She 
 got after me the other night because the 
 baby was crying. She said, " Do quiet that 
 baby, will you ?" Well, I didn't consider 
 it my place, and I said, " Now, Letitia, you 
 quiet the baby yourself." Whew ! you 
 should have seen how mad she got. She 
 called me a brute, and said it was " my 
 place." And then she shouted out, loud 
 enough to wake all the neighbors, " You 
 know it's your place, you black brute, to 
 quiet that baby ; it's as much yours as it is 
 
48 TALKS 
 
 mine. It's half yours, aint it?" she 
 screeched. I said, "All right, then quiet 
 your half and let mine alone." That settled 
 the matter right there and then, but she got 
 even with me. 
 
 One day a tramp came up to the house, 
 and she called him in and gave him mv 
 dinner. He was very hungry, too, so she 
 considered she was doing him an act of 
 charity, as well as punishing her poor 
 hubby. Well, that tramp eat so much he 
 could hardly breathe, and then in the good- 
 ness of her heart she said, " Poor man, isn't 
 there something else I can do for you ?" 
 The tramp paused for a moment, then he 
 thrust his hand in his pocket and pulled 
 out a button, and said, " Yes, please sew a 
 shirt on this for me." Then I laughed till 
 I woke the baby up ? and I haven't been 
 home since. 
 
TALKS 49 
 
 MY BOARDING-HOUSES 
 
 About three months ago I made up my 
 mind to change my boarding-house and I 
 haven't been settled since. I thought it 
 would be a proper scheme to get a little 
 distance out of town, so I secured a room 
 in a boarding-house just the other side of 
 the cemetery. I wanted to get a home be- 
 yond the grave. The house was kept by 
 Mrs. Tough, and oh! dear, but it was a 
 tough place — tough in every respect ; toug'i 
 beds, tough beefsteaks, tough everything 
 The landlady (Mrs. Tough) used to say, 
 " Will you have an ^gg y or have you had 
 one?" They didn't have any bell to ac- 
 quaint you with the fact that the frugal 
 repast was ready. So the cook used to 
 wring a towel for dinner. They used to 
 tell time by the beds — a slat would drop 
 out every fifteen minutes. They occasion- 
 ally had what they called spring chickens — - 
 wagon springs ! And the coffee ! I know 
 
50 TALKS 
 
 you won't believe me, but the coffee was so 
 weak it bad to use crutches. I had to leave 
 the place one day. There was a fight at 
 the table, and that settled it. The butter, 
 the cheese, the coffee, and molasses got into 
 a scrimmage. The butter run, the cheese 
 skipped out, the coffee settled on its own 
 grounds, and the molasses got licked. 
 
 I finally moved farther in town. But 
 worse and worse ! There they actually had 
 hash three times a day. I didn't mind that 
 so much if they had not put raisins in it 
 on Sundays and served it as mince-pie. We 
 used to have chicken occasionally at that 
 place, too, and there was one boarder sat 
 opposite to me I had every reason to 
 suspect was rather delinquent on Saturday 
 nights in coming to the front with the usual 
 five. It was a " five-straight " boarding- 
 house, and the peculiar expression I would 
 trace upon the landlady's face when she 
 looked at him gave me an assurance that 
 the necessary five was in arrears. I finally 
 
TALKS 51 
 
 had the most positive proof of his financial 
 standing, and without consulting Bradstreet, 
 for I noticed when the aforesaid chicken was 
 served he always got the neck, and as I 
 have had the neck so often I can come 
 pretty near telling what it signifies. 
 
 THE HORSE BUSINESS 
 
 Once I was quite a singer, but I lost my 
 Vdice — caught a cold — and then I went in 
 the ho(a)rse business. When I say I went 
 in the business, I wasn't exactly interested, 
 but I worked in a stable. I was the chamber- 
 maid. I used to make beds for the horses. 
 I always was fond of horses. I think the 
 horse is the noblest animal that lives on 
 four foot. I don't mean to insinuate that 
 &e lives on four-foot measures or two-foot 
 rules, and is obliged to exist on them as 
 substance. I am alluding to his pedal ex- 
 tremities merely as his means of suppoit 
 
52 TALKS 
 
 and existence. 
 
 I like a bay horse. Give me a nice dark 
 brown mouse-colored bay horse, with just a 
 tinge of chestnut, and I am happy if I can 
 only go to his boudoir in the early morn 
 and feed him sugar — just for a stall. When 
 I was employed in the livery stable, I was 
 quite a favorite with all the boarders. There 
 was a black sorrel horse they called " Love," 
 because he was blind. He was a nice horse* 
 though, and could go it blind just as well as 
 Liverpill, his mate. He was the fastest 
 horse in the stable ; they called him Liver- 
 pill because he was hard to down. We had 
 several trotters there. One beauty, his 
 name was Cabbage. He entered a race once 
 at Monmouth ; there were six other starters. 
 Let me see, there was Knockter Prott, Cast- 
 away No. 2, Judge To-morrow, Come-to- 
 pawn, Loose" Angelus, and Cabbage. It was 
 a great race, but Cabbage won by a head. 
 I was a very handy man around our stable. 
 When the horses got foundered, I took them 
 
TALKS 53 
 
 to the foundry. When they wanted new 
 shoes, I took them to the shoe store — and 
 saw that their corns were pared. When they 
 had ringbones I took the rings off. Oh ! I 
 was quite a man among them ; when they 
 got too old to chew their hay, I used to 
 chew it for them. 
 
 I remember one time one of these vete- 
 ran airy doctors came along with a new 
 patent for giving horses medicine when 
 they had the epizootic. It was a long 
 tube in which the medicine was put. I 
 used to take it, and when he opened the 
 horse's mouth I would put the tube in it 
 and blow the contents of the tube down the 
 horse's throat. One day, what do you 
 think ? I went to blow the medicine down 
 the horse's throat, when the old fool coughed 
 and I swallowed the dose. That settled it ; 
 1 was laid up for six months with the blind 
 staggers. 
 
54 TALKS 
 
 THE STOCK-BROKER 
 
 I'll never forget as long as I live my ex- 
 perience on the board ; that is to say, my 
 experience on one particular board. Of 
 course, as a boy, I had many different ex- 
 periences on as many different boards — see- 
 saw boards, checker-boards, etc., and, as I 
 bordered on manhood, there was a different 
 board still — boarding-houses — and border 
 dramas at the theatres, but this one board 
 to which I refer is the board of trade. If 
 a man wants to be bored, he should get on 
 that board. 
 
 You see I had made a failure of every- 
 thing in life, so I made up my mind, that 
 is, what is left of it, to commit suicide. I 
 had about concluded to try strychnine when 
 I thought of the river, but I never did fancy 
 water. One day I confided my intentions 
 to a bosom friend, and he said, if I had 
 made up my mind to die, he could tell me 
 
TALKS 55 
 
 the easiest plan. I said, "Tell me, I be- 
 seech thee," and he said, " Go into stocks," 
 and I said, " What kind of stocks ?" He 
 answered that it was immaterial. "Just 
 get in Wall Street," he said, " and they'll 
 bury you before you know you have passed 
 from this mundane sphere." I only had 
 eight dollars, and to a man with one-third, 
 and a third of a quarter of a twenty-five 
 dollar bill, the horoscopic vision of Wall 
 Street was not luminous. 
 
 However, my friend was a stock-broker. 
 So he took me down one day. When I say 
 he was a stock-broker, I mean he was posted 
 on the activity of the market. He drove a 
 butcher-wagon. 
 
 Well, to make a short story long, we went 
 down there one day, and he introduced me 
 to what he was pleased to call the bulls and 
 bears — two-legged bears and bulls without 
 horns ; that is, visible horns. I said to my 
 friend, " Charlie, is that a bull ?" " Yes/ 
 said Charlie. Then, says Ij " Where are his 
 
56 TALKS 
 
 horns ?" And Charlie says, " He is not that 
 kind of a bull." I thought he might be a 
 pretty good fellow to know, and if he was a 
 bull, he might give me a steer. Just then 
 Corneil came up — Corneil Vanderbilt — 
 he sort of half nodded, and I finished it for 
 him, and he says to me — he says— " How's 
 wheat ?" I said to him, " Don't know much 
 about wheat. I'm better posted on rye." 
 Then he says, " Are you going to buy B. & 
 O?" And I says, " What's B. & O ?"— 
 just like that, and Corneil says, " Baltimore 
 and Ohio. Are you going to buy ?" Now, 
 the idea of my buying Baltimore, let alone 
 Ohio, with only eight dollars in my pocket ! 
 Then an old gentleman came up— I 
 think they called him Cy — Cy Field, yes, 
 that's it — and he said something about 
 " puts " and " calls," and I says to Charlie, 
 11 What's ' puts ' and ' calls ' ?" and Charlie 
 says, "Why, don't you see, that means it's 
 a Jack Pot ; you put in two dollars, and the 
 other fellow calls, you've got Jacks, and the 
 
TALKS 57 
 
 other fellow stood pat with a full." I met 
 a friend of mine on the floor, Fitz — I don't 
 think you know hiin — I asked him what 
 he was doing. He said he bought lead. 
 I asked him if he cleared anything, and he 
 said yes — his bank account. 
 
 Oh! it's a great place. They all talk 
 at once. I could hardly get in a word 
 side-edge, edge-side, ways-edge, side-wed- 
 ges — I mfeau sideways. Charlie says to me, 
 " Now's your time to take a flyer on North 
 Western preferred." " In what way ?" says 
 I. " Why, buy short, and sell long." I 
 told him I couldn't buy very long on eight 
 dollars. Talk about suicide — a man forgets 
 all about it when he gets there. It's not 
 suicide — it's another kind of side. Every- 
 body is trying to cut everybody else's 
 throat — metaphorically speaking. It's homi- 
 cide, and I left those brokers, bulls, bears, 
 three per cents., longs, shorts, and all, satis- 
 fied that life was worth living as long as a 
 man kept out of Wall Street, and didn't 
 
58 - TALKS 
 
 have his life insured with his mother-in-law 
 holding the policy. 
 
 SUPERSTITION 
 
 Did it ever strike you how utterly insane 
 it is to be superstitious ? Some people carry 
 it to an extreme about the most trivial oc- 
 currences. Now, for instance, there are so 
 many people in this wide world of ours who 
 believe in what they term the unlucky thir- 
 teen. When our great and glorious coun- 
 try first became a republic, when Georgie 
 Washington and Tommy Jefferson and the 
 rest of the boys made us a present of these 
 United States, how many were there ? Thir- 
 teen. Thirteen States, including New Jer- 
 sey. And where can prosperity be better 
 illustrated than right here ? 
 
 Then, again, who wouldn't rather have 
 thirteen dollars than twelve ? I once knew 
 a family of thirteen. There were ten chil- 
 
TALKS 59 
 
 dren, and the wife and the wife's mother, 
 and the husband, who was supposed to be 
 the head of the house — it was only a sup- 
 position, though, for his wife's mother 
 usurped that prerogative. You never saw 
 such a mother-in-law. She was cross-eyed 
 and had whiskers. She used to travel with 
 a circus and was the bearded lady. He said 
 something to her one day at dinner about 
 the wind blowing, and she threw a plate at 
 him, but it struck one of the children, and 
 about two years afterwards the child died with 
 the measles, and everybody said, " There 
 it goes. Thirteen in the family — how un- 
 lucky !" But the old woman did not live 
 long after that. She got shaved one day 
 and caught the pneumonia. Nobody said 
 anything about that being unlucky. Her 
 name was Storey — Eliza Teller Storey was 
 her name in full — and over her remains 
 there was an inscription which read, 
 
 " Here lies Eliza Teller Storey 
 She's taken her last bier. 
 
60 TALKS 
 
 She has been called away to glory 
 But she left her whiskers here. " 
 
 There are people who are superstitious con- 
 cerning Friday. Now what would Robinson 
 Crusoe have done without Friday ? Some 
 people object to traveling on Friday. I 
 called on a young lady of my acquaintance 
 last Friday and her father set the bull-dog 
 on me. I didn't object to traveling! To 
 tell the truth, about that time I didn't stop 
 to consider whether it was Friday or next 
 Tuesday come Wednesday — I traveled ! 
 
 Then, again, they say it is unlucky to go 
 to bed with your shoes on. I took a friend of 
 mine home the other evening and he went 
 to bed, shoes and all. But it was something 
 stronger than superstition that superinduced 
 his superabundance of superlative supercil- 
 iousness. 
 
 I've heard it whispered that if you wish 
 before eating any new fresh product of the 
 market, at its first appearance, your wish will 
 
TALKS 6l 
 
 come true. We never get fresh products 
 where I board, they are all canned, so I 
 can't vouch for that, although one day I saw 
 an old colored woman selling hot corn on 
 the street, and I said to myself, " Here is a 
 chance to test the wish." So I bought an ear 
 of corn, and ere I proceeded to demolish it I 
 wished— I wished my landlady would have 
 strawberry short-cake for dinner. She had 
 prunes ! 
 
 Then there's that superstition about the 
 four-leaf clover, that if you find a four-leaf 
 clover it will bring you luck. I looked for 
 one for two months and at last my dili- 
 gent search was rewarded. Last Thursday 
 was a beautiful moonlight evening. Our 
 house faces its back to the garden of our 
 neighbors, and that garden is full of clovers. 
 So about twelve o'clock on my way home, I 
 jumped over the fence and crawled around 
 in that grass till the knees of my trousers 
 looked like the map of Ireland. Finally, 
 my fondest hopes were realized, and just as 
 
62 TALKS 
 
 I grabbed that clover a policeman leaped 
 over the fence and grabbed me. The next 
 day the Judge fined me ten dollars and costs 
 for trespassing. He wouldn't swallow the 
 clover story. 
 
 So I've come to the conclusion it's better 
 to be born rich than superstitious. 
 
 THE CENSUS ENUMERATOR 
 
 I got a position to take the census this 
 summer, and I nearly lost mine before I got 
 through. There were three men appointed 
 in my district. One of them was thrown 
 out of a three-story window, and resigned 
 for cause. The other fellow was more re- 
 signed ; he had a wash-boiler full of hot 
 water thrown at him. Bnt, as I had been 
 a base-ball umpire, I went at it without 
 fear. My ! the questions we had to ask was 
 enough to disturb the equanimity of the 
 most peacefully inclined housekeeper in the 
 
TALKS 63 
 
 world. Just think of going up to anybody's 
 door, and asking them if they are married, 
 if so, how many times, and what color they 
 are, and when did you take a bath, was the 
 water hot or cold, and such questions. The 
 first call that I made in an official capacity 
 the lady of the house came to the door. I 
 asked her how many people lived in the 
 house. She took me for a tramp, and set 
 the bull-dog on me. The next piace I went 
 to, when I asked the lady if she was married, 
 I didn't know that she had only been a 
 widow two days, and she caught me by the 
 neck and asked me who was circulating 
 those horrid stories about her. Oh, I had 
 a delightful experience ! 
 
 Then I made a call at the house next to 
 the widow's, and an elderly lady came to the 
 door, and I said to her, " Pardon my seeming 
 rudeness, but I am compelled to ask a ques- 
 tion which may seem abrupt." Then she 
 asked me in to sit down ; she was the 
 most rational customer I yet had to deal 
 
64 TALKS 
 
 with. She asked me if I'd have some cake 
 Well, I didn't know what to make of her 
 hospitality, bnt I made up my mind to be 
 just as polite as she was. Finally she said, 
 when we had drifted entirely away from 
 business, " Do you know I have been burn- 
 ing with curiosity — natural with my sex, 
 isn't it ?" Then she commenced to tee-hee 
 and giggle. She had seen about fifty 
 summers, and as many winters, and she 
 began to simper like a fifteen-year-old girl. 
 I said, " Can I allay your curiosity?" I had 
 almost forgotten what I had come for. I 
 think the cake had gone to my head. Then 
 she said, "What is the question you wish 
 to ask ?" Then I got down to business 
 again, and I said, " I beg your pardon, but 
 are you married?" What do you think? 
 She threw herself in my arms, and said, 
 " Oh ! this is so sudden, but I cannot refuse ; 
 I am yours!" She was an old maid, just 
 think of it ! I took up my hat and flew. 
 She sued me for breach of promise, and I 
 
TALKS 65 
 
 made up my mind that if the government 
 wanted me as a census-taker again it would 
 have to supply me with a Gatling gun, or 
 else give me a route that only took in the 
 cemetery. 
 
66 TALKS 
 
 POETIC EFFUSIONS 
 
 THE MINSTREL'S SEVEN AGES 
 
 Shakespeare tells us seven years constitute 
 of life a span ; 
 
 There are seven ages also in the life of min- 
 strel man. 
 
 First, the boy who fills the buckets for a 
 pass to see the "show," 
 
 Ragged urchin, shoeless, liatless, in our 
 way where ere we go. 
 
 Next we find him selling song-books, yell- 
 ing out his lungs with force, 
 
 Tries to drown the singers' voices, till they 
 all are laid up hoarse. 
 
 Next the " props " he wields in earnest, 
 learns the cornet for to play, 
 
 Then he gets his maiden salary — if there is 
 a salary day. 
 
 Dexterous bills for " props " he'll fix, that 
 fill up a score of pages ; 
 
TALKS 6} 
 
 These are days lie tries managers' souls in 
 the minstrel's seven ages. 
 
 Next the song-and-dance he " tackles ;" al- 
 ways calls his shoe his " vamp," 
 
 Hat is " lid," and ear is "sail," foot is 
 " wheel," and eye is u lamp;" 
 
 Sports a rhinestone in his necktie, no mat- 
 ter what the stage is — 
 
 These are the days he makes his " bluffs," 
 in the minstrel's seven ages. 
 
 Then at last the "end" he tackles, first the 
 inside then the out, 
 
 Salary gradually increasing, and he knows 
 what he's about, 
 
 " Gag's " that he's originating (?) though 
 they're older than the flood, 
 
 Others use, and loud he " hollers " they are 
 stealing his life's blood. 
 
 Next, the prosperous manager is he, nightly 
 turning crowds away, 
 
 Drives fast horses, dines on courses, and at 
 " faro "high he'll play; 
 
 Dresses flashy, slightly " mashy," lives by 
 
68 TALKS 
 
 easiest of stages, 
 These are the happiest days of all in the 
 
 minstrel's seven ages. 
 Last of all, Time has outgrown him — he is 
 
 far behind the age ; 
 Boys hand round subscription papers for thi? 
 
 " relic " of the stage. 
 Now, that fortune's frowned upon him, by- 
 gone friends have swiftly flown ; 
 Empty pockets, sunken sockets, penniless, 
 
 he's left alone. 
 Still retains his "alum "cluster; moustache 
 
 dyed, and trousers frayed ; 
 Tells of how the business shattered, when 
 
 they cut the street parade ; 
 Sighs at some one's mild referring to the 
 
 days of long ago, 
 Longs for Unsworth's good old stump-speech 
 
 or an " essence " with the show. 
 Tottering goes he to his lodgings, broken* 
 
 hearted at his fate, 
 Cannot understand the public, why its taste 
 
 should vitiate i 
 
TALKS 69 
 
 Dreams of Bryant, Buckley, Christy, and 
 
 the past's great sages — - 
 These are the last, the bitterest days, in 
 
 the minstrel's seven ages. 
 
 POETIC INSPIRATION 
 
 The little stars sang sweetly to the birds up 
 
 in the sky, 
 The bull-frog chirped his matin song where 
 
 the drooping codfish sigh. 
 The emerald moon its ruby lips was pouting 
 
 'neath the willows, 
 The ocean's waves were hushed to sleep, so 
 
 bilious was its billow. 
 The village church bells sang the praise of 
 
 the potato bug serene, 
 While the grasshopper shed bright pearly 
 
 tears — he'd been eating Paris green. 
 But up in the vine-clad desert, where the 
 
 whip-o'-wills were ripe, 
 A maiden fair, with azure hair, stood gath- 
 ering moss-grown tripe. 
 
JO TALKS 
 
 When from a burst of thunder cloud that 
 
 parched the verdant air, 
 An ancient crow, in accents wild, was part- 
 ing his back hair. 
 And still the mother wept tears of joy, 
 
 though sad her life had grown, 
 For, lo ! the wandering minstrel boy had 
 
 pawned his diamond stone. 
 And yet I would not ask you why, which 
 
 one of those are these, 
 The German air wafts perfume sweet, its 
 
 odor, new-mown cheese. 
 Now take this lesson to your heart, in those 
 
 halcyon days afar; 
 There's many a tramp has carved his name 
 
 on a gilded cattle car. 
 
 WILLIE AND HIS ESMERALDA 
 
 Fair Willie and his Esmeralda 
 
 Roamed the hills and dells together ; 
 Balmy was +he breezy sky. 
 
TALKS 71 
 
 And the air was filled with weather. 
 
 Up from the sky in milky way 
 
 The moon looked down with rapturous 
 glances, 
 The star of night shone as the day 
 
 On Willie's Sunday summer pantses. 
 
 Babe she called him — he called her bird 
 Wingless bird without a feather ; 
 
 Suddenly without a word 
 
 The air was filled with balmy leather. 
 (N. B.— That was her father.) 
 
 The bull-frog chirped his note so clear 
 The star of love shot like a rocket, 
 
 And there was a sad, sad feeling 
 Close to Willie's pistol pocket. 
 
72 TALKS 
 
 AN ADHESIVE POEM 
 
 My Maudie sat in her cushioned chair 
 
 Chewing away on her gum, 
 The crimps and curls were so tight in her 
 hair 
 
 That the pain was too awfully some. 
 
 That evening she looked for her Gussie to 
 come 
 And loosened the bangs of her hair, 
 Then from her sweet mouth she ejected the 
 gum 
 And tossed it aside on a chair. 
 
 Augustus waxed warm and warm waxed the 
 wax, 
 And he drummed a te-doodle-de-dum. 
 He was stuck on his Maudie, and, oh ! holy 
 smoke, 
 He was stuck on that horrible gum. 
 
 And thus did he reason with mind all a 
 rack, 
 
TALKS 73 
 
 His thoughts were all mixed in a whirl, 
 Was it better to carry that chair on his 
 back 
 Or leave his best pants with his girl ? 
 
 But her father he settled the question for 
 him 
 
 As he twirled his long claws in his hair 
 And hustled him out of the door with a vim, 
 
 And Augustus went off with the chair. 
 
 ONLY 
 
 Only a little tomato-can, 
 Only a piece of twine, 
 
 Only a little doggy 
 
 With a stumpy tail behind. 
 
 Only a little urchin — 
 
 So wan, and thin, and pale, 
 Who ties the little tomato-can 
 
 To the little doggy's tail. 
 
74 TALKS 
 
 Only a fat policeman, 
 
 Walking lazily on his beat, 
 
 And the little doggy 
 
 Makes a dive for " coppy's " feet. 
 
 Only a little cuss word 
 
 Was uttered by the " cop " 
 
 As he came down on the pavement 
 With an agonizing flop 
 
 And now that little doggy, 
 And the little boy also, 
 
 Have gone to join the angels, 
 Where the " coppies " never go. 
 
 But what of the tomato-can, 
 From doggy's tail remote ? 
 
 It couldn't join the angels, 
 
 For 'twas swallowed by the goat. 
 
TALKS 75 
 
 YALLER" DOG'S LOVE FOR A NIG- 
 GER 
 
 Bar's a grave on de oder side ob de creek 
 Dat knows no Decoration Day, 
 
 For him as lef ? dar alone to sleep 
 Is only a nigger dey say. 
 
 He died an old vagunt, untirely unknown, 
 
 And lef not a soul to be sad. 
 Dey gave him his freedom, but took way 
 his home, 
 
 And an ole yaller dog was all dat he had. 
 
 Dey dug a rude hole and dey laid him away, 
 
 Dis poor old citizen slave. 
 Not a prayer for his res' did any one say, 
 
 And de ole yaller dog laid down on his 
 grave. 
 
 And still you may see him dar, day after 
 day, 
 
76 TALKS { 
 
 I 
 
 At eve, at morn, or at noon, 
 For dar's no inducements can call him away 
 From his place 'side de grave of a coon. 
 
 Dar's a mighty fine monument standin 1 
 right nigh, 
 
 But to me dis poor mound looks bigger, 
 For dar's a monument money can't buy — 
 
 A yaller dog's love for a nigger. 
 
TALKS 77 
 
 PARODIES ON POPULAR 
 SONGS 
 
 DOWN ON THE FARM 
 
 When a boy I used to be, like most other 
 kids you see, 
 I worked upon the farm for my old dad, 
 But the pranks I used to play, on the old 
 man night and day 
 Bring back memories that still make my 
 poor heart sad. 
 How from my cot I'd steal, and in the dark- 
 ness feel 
 My way to strike the light, while all else 
 slept. 
 Then the chickens' legs I'd tie — pour some 
 coal-oil on the pie, 
 In my childhood's happy home down on 
 the farm. 
 
78 TALKS 
 
 Swe€i visions of raw hide, 
 Tender memories of cow hide, 
 Dearer than all to me. 
 While they soundly slept in bed, I would 
 paint the gray mare red, 
 And I'd tie her to the dog-house in the 
 yard, 
 Then I'd take the old man's shoe, fill it up 
 with Spalding ? s glue, 
 And the kitchen stairs I'd grease with 
 mother's lard. 
 Then to poor old Towzer's tail, I'd tie the 
 new milk-pail 
 Just to keep the playful doggie out of 
 harm, 
 But as dad would early rise, on my pants 
 he'd exercise 
 With that Spalding's gluey shoe, down 
 on the farm. 
 Sweet recollections of cow hide, 
 Oh ! visions of soreness, 
 Dearer than all to me. 
 
TALKS 79 
 
 IN THE GLOAMING 
 
 tn the gloaming of the gleaming I was 
 
 gloaming through the gleam 
 To call on Mary Ann McGlone, and she's 
 
 the glooming of my dream. 
 But her papa's bull-dog Towser gloomed my 
 
 trousers gleefully, 
 It was best to leave you then, dear, best foi 
 
 the trousers and best for me. 
 
 In the gloaming, on my glooming, when 
 'tis raining, snow, and hail, 
 
 I will glimmer that dog Towzer, and glue a 
 tin can to his tail. 
 
 Then with dynamite, gun-powder, nitro- 
 glycerine, and a large fuzee 
 
 I will send him to the angels, where he 
 came near sending me. 
 
 It were best to keep this quiet — best for the 
 dog, and best for me. 
 
80 TALKS 
 
 THE MOSS-COVERED ONION 
 
 (Air, " The Moss-Covered Bucket/') 
 
 How dear to my heart is the loud-smelling 
 onion 
 Which restaurant keepers provide at each 
 meal, 
 The color of silver — the size of a bunion, 
 With night-blooming corns wrapped up 
 in each peal. 
 It stings like a skeeter, it burns like an em- 
 ber, 
 And smells like a horse that is silent in 
 death. 
 And yet with affection and love we remem- 
 ber 
 The early spring onion that scented our 
 breath. 
 The loud-smelling onion, the sweet-per- 
 fumed onion, 
 The Lubin-like onion that clings to your 
 breath. 
 
TALKS 8 1 
 
 You drown it with beefsteak, you boil 01 
 you bake it, 
 But still it retains its smelodious charm. 
 And after you've done all you can to forsake 
 
 it, 
 
 It clings to you fervently, fearing no harm. 
 Though dangers overtake you and troubles 
 awake you, 
 At home or abroad, on land or at sea, 
 The scent of that onion forever will make 
 you 
 Desert all your friends or they will shake 
 thee. 
 That moss-covered onion, that iron-bound 
 onion, 
 That old " gamey " onion that clings to 
 you still. 
 
 BANANA 
 
 (Air, " Tit- Willow/ ■ from the Mikado.) 
 On a brick by the curb-stone a little peal lay, 
 
82 TALKS 
 
 Banana, banana, banana. 
 Its yellow-tint surface seemed to quietly say, 
 
 Banana, banana, banana. 
 Now this tropical fruit, for its sweetness far- 
 famed, 
 In its unblushing ignorance seemed to ex- 
 claim, 
 For my slippery surface I am not to blame. 
 Oh ! banana, banana, banana. 
 
 A saffron-tint damsel on pleasure intent, 
 
 Banana, banana, banana, 
 Had occasion to pass, to a skating-rink bent, 
 
 Banana, banana, banana. 
 In an unguarded moment this damsel so 
 
 faii- 
 Sat down on the curb-stone, her shoes in the 
 
 air. 
 Now her new-fashioned bustle is not fit to 
 wear, 
 Oh ! saffron, banana, oh ! bustle. 
 
TALKS 83 
 
 BLUE ALSACIAN MOUNTAINS 
 
 In a row of tenement houses, 
 Dwelt a maiden young and fair, 
 
 Her papa wore the trousers, 
 
 When her mamma was not there, 
 When her mamma was not there. 
 
 Maiden with the dimpled eyebrow 
 And a voice so loud and clear. 
 
 Maiden with the " yaller " bull-dog, 
 That followed her everywhere. 
 
 Chorus. — Each day, each day, each day, 
 Some family would move away, 
 For that row of tenement houses 
 Never seemed to please or pay. 
 
 To that row of tenement houses, 
 Came a farmer in the spring, 
 
 Just to talk of sheeps and cowses, 
 And to hear the maiden sing — 
 And to hear the maiden sing. 
 
 He spoke about his barn-yard — 
 
84 TALKS 
 
 Of his chickens and his hog, 
 But she thought he was giving her taffy, 
 So she called her " yaller " dog. 
 
 Chorus. — Hooray, hooray, hooray ! 
 The farmer he flew away, 
 But left the bosom of his trousers 
 For the dog to chew that day. 
 
 THINK IT OVER 
 
 (Air, "My Maryland.") 
 
 Cross-eyed cats don't live on cheese 
 
 Think it over I 
 
 Chestnuts don't all grow on trees — 
 
 Think it over ! 
 
 Canary-birds' milk won't cure the croup, 
 
 You can't shoot shad on an Arch Street 
 stoop, 
 
 Nor find oysters in a church-fair soup. 
 
 Think it over ! 
 
 If you take your girl out for a ride- 
 Think it over I 
 
TALKS 85 
 
 When she snugs up closely to your side — 
 
 Think it over ! 
 
 And tells you to love you how hard she has 
 tried, 
 
 But she's mashed on another fellow beside, 
 
 Don't then and there commit suicide — 
 
 Think it over ! 
 
 Don't play seven-up with every strange 
 cove — 
 
 Think it over ! 
 Before you sit on a red-hot stove — 
 
 Cover it over ! 
 If your mother-in-law is cross and blunt, 
 And for peace and comfort you have to 
 
 hunt, 
 Take her down to the river-front — 
 
 Throw her over ! 
 
 HOME, SWEET HOME 
 
 There's a song that's very popular that's 
 
86 TALKS 
 
 sung in every clime, 
 Its title is suggestive of its worth. 
 It's a comfort to the mariner, it don't take 
 him long to find 
 That there's no place like home upon this 
 earth. 
 If you're out upon a lark and get locked up 
 over night, 
 As up and down your narrow cell you 
 roam, 
 When you take the " Black Maria " there's 
 time then to reflect 
 That there's no place like home. 
 Home, home, sweet, sweet home, 
 
 If you're out upon the sea and as sick as 
 you can be, 
 There's no place like home. 
 
 I was single and quite happy not so many 
 years ago, 
 When a captivating charmer that I met, 
 
 Won me over and I wed her, thinking mar- 
 ried life was bliss, 
 
TALKS 87 
 
 But it^s blister since I married her, you 
 bet. 
 She always wears my boxing-gloves to 
 meet me at the door, 
 When her temper's up from out her mouth 
 she'd foam, 
 When she tries to make it pleasant I ap- 
 preciate the fact 
 There's no place like home. 
 Home, home, sweet, sweet home, 
 
 When the landlord wants his rent and you 
 hav'n't got a cent 
 There's no place like home. 
 
 GRANDFATHER'S PANTS 
 
 (Air, " My Grandfather's Clock.") 
 
 My grandfather he, at the age of ninety- 
 three, 
 Got disgusted and made up his mind to 
 die. 
 He was very well to do, and the neighbors 
 that he knew 
 
88 . TALKS 
 
 They all came in from Townsentown to 
 cry. 
 Of course lie left a will, and lie left to 
 brother Bill 
 His advice to grab whene'er he had a 
 chance, 
 A mortgage on the farm, and the hinges on 
 the barn, 
 And he left to me his old brown pants. 
 
 How they tittered, how they'd yell, 
 Even my brother and my sister Nell. 
 Gave me the laugh whene'er they got 
 
 a chance, 
 'Cause grandpa only left to me his old 
 brown pants. 
 One day my brother Bill went down to 
 Barnses' Mill, 
 Took off his clothes, jumped in the race 
 to swim, 
 
 When a neighbor's William goat chewed 
 the buttons off his coat 
 
TALKS 89 
 
 And ate his pants, for summer they were 
 thin. 
 That left Bill in a plight, there he had to 
 stay all night, 
 I took his girl Maria to the dance. 
 Poor Bill began to cry, then to sympathize, 
 said I, 
 Wouldn't you like to have the old brown 
 pants ? 
 
 How they tittered, how they'd yell, 
 Even my brother and my sister Nell. 
 Gave me the laugh whene'er they got 
 
 a chance, 
 'Cause grandpa only left to me his old 
 
 brown pants. 
 
 MONTRAVERS O'BRIEN 
 
 (A Parody on " Shamus O'Brien.") 
 
 Just after the season, in the year '82, 
 When the boys were all home, for the sum- 
 mer quite blue 3 
 
90 TALKS 
 
 'Twas the custom whenever an angel was got 
 To show him the "Square," when they hung 
 
 round that spot. 
 Ah, it's thim was hard days for an honest 
 
 "legit," 
 If he missed at the agents, he'd meet with 
 
 no " sit." 
 And whether the managers or stars pro* 
 
 nounced sentence, 
 It's plenty of time he had for repentance. 
 And it's many the fine boy was short on his 
 
 keepin' 
 With small share of actin' or eatin' or 
 
 sleepin'. 
 For a pestilence came to the legitimate stage 
 And musical comedies grew all the rage. 
 And because he loved art and scorned to 
 
 sell it 
 A prey to such " trash," how well he would 
 
 tell it. 
 Unsheltered by night, and no chance to play, 
 With the Square for his barracks, and no 
 
 salary day 1 
 
TALKS 91 
 
 Yet the boldest and hardest up "fake" of 
 
 them all 
 Was Montravers O'Brien of the town of 
 
 Great Gall. 
 " These so-called c comedies/ ye gods," he 
 
 would say, 
 "They will ruin the business, they've 
 
 turned my hair gray." 
 But he swore to have vengeance, as each 
 
 job he'd miss, 
 And one fatal night a farce skit did he hiss. 
 'Twas in Quincy town, in the good State of 
 
 111., 
 He happened one night to be out of the bill. 
 And these " mummers," who never had held 
 
 a position, 
 Had openly opened in dead opposition. 
 To dream of 'twas sad, but to know it was 
 
 hard, 
 The "legits" had in barely a corporal's 
 
 guard, 
 While the house round the corner was 
 
 packed to the doors, 
 And the air it was heavy with triple encores. 
 
92 TALKS 
 
 One night about eight, with the crowd pour* 
 
 ing in, 
 He went to the office and planked down his 
 
 "tin." 
 For art could not bend to these mountebanks 
 
 fresh, 
 And he'd too much pride to say, " Pass the 
 
 profesh." 
 So he seated himself in the very front row 
 And began his attacks on this "measely* 
 
 show. 
 With hissing and hooting and galling dis« 
 
 play 
 He called them "barn-stormers," causing 
 
 utter dismay, 
 Till the theatre policeman, alarmed by the 
 
 din, 
 Took Monty O'B. and quick run him in. 
 Next day the town justice he faced without 
 
 dread, 
 And Monty O'Brien made answer, and said: 
 "My Lord, if you ask me if in my lifetime 
 I ere lost a season or gagged any line 
 
TALKS 93 
 
 That could call to my cheek as I stand 
 alone here 
 
 The hot blush of shame, or coldness of fear, 
 
 Though I l stood up' my landlady and then 
 had to go, 
 
 Before man and the world I would answer 
 you no. 
 
 But if you would ask me regarding this 
 matter 
 
 If I'd fought in rebellion against the ham- 
 fatter 
 
 And stood by my art from the first to the 
 close 
 
 And would shed my stage blood for its bit- 
 terest foes, 
 
 I answer you yes. And I tell you again, 
 
 Though I stand here for judgment, I will 
 say in the main, 
 
 In her cause I was willing that salary be shy. 
 
 But I could not eat bread, while they feasted 
 on pie." 
 
 Then the silence was great, and the justice 
 smiled bright, ( 
 
94 TALKS 
 
 And concluded the sentence he'd make 
 
 rather light. 
 Then he said, as his smile seemed to broadly 
 
 increase : 
 "Ten dollars and costs for disturbing the 
 
 peace." 
 11 O Judge ! darling don't," said the dashing 
 
 soubrette, 
 " He's the kindliest creature you ever met 
 
 yet." 
 "Don't part us forever," the leading lady 
 
 cried, 
 And the "heavy man" wept and the "ju- 
 venile " sighed, 
 And the group of "utility" people looked 
 
 sad ; 
 They knew he was broke and his prospects 
 
 were bad. 
 But the window was open, and O'Brien, with 
 
 one bound, 
 Leaped out in the courtyard on to the ground. 
 The actors ran this way, the officers that, 
 And the "second old woman" lost her two* 
 
TALKS 95 
 
 dollar hat. 
 
 To-night lie will sleep in an east-bound 
 freight train, 
 
 And the devil's in the dice if they catch 
 him again. 
 
 He has pawned his new tights, and soon he 
 will be 
 
 Back in the Bowery where the lunch coun- 
 ter's free. 
 
96 TALKS 
 
 SAMPLES OF MY PRIVATE 
 CORRESPONDENCE 
 
 } 
 
 Executive Mansion 
 
 Washington, March 17th, 1887 
 
 Gentlemen : — With many thanks for your 
 kind offer to place a box at my disposal, to 
 enable me to witness one of your perform- 
 ances, I write to say that I shall gladly 
 avail myself of the privilege thus tendered 
 
 Yours very truly 
 
 Grover Cleveland 
 
 JOHN McCULLOUGH'S INDORSEMENT 
 
 Thursday morning 
 George Thatcher, Arch Street Opera House 
 My Dear Sir : — Permit me to thank you 
 for a most enjoyable evening passed in wit- 
 nessing the very excellent entertainment 
 given by yourself and your associates. I 
 
TALKS 97 
 
 shall always bear it in mind for its cleanli- 
 ness, originality, and superabundance of 
 really excellent Humor. 
 
 Yours sincerely 
 
 John McCullough 
 
 SARA BERNHARDT^ INVITATION 
 
 (Translation) 
 
 Saturday morning 
 
 Gentlemen : — I can Hardly find words to 
 express my enjoyment of your delightful 
 performance. Accept my tHanks for tHe 
 courtesy of extending a special perform- 
 ance to me. I sHould feel flattered if you 
 would accept tHe Hospitalities of tHe theatre 
 this afternoon, and Have reserved a box for 
 your occupancy. 
 
 Very sincerely 
 
 Sara Bernhardt 
 
98 TALKS 
 
 FROM THE REV. DR. HOUGHTON 
 
 242 West 58th St., ) 
 New York, January 16th. j 
 My Dear Sir : — I am very much obliged 
 to you for your really courteous note. I 
 was present at the performance last even- 
 ing and enjoyed it exceedingly. So much 
 so that at some future day I shall again 
 avail myself of your kind invitation. 
 I remain, yours very truly 
 G. C. Houghton 
 
 "ELI PERKINS" HEARD FROM 
 
 44 Bast 76TH Street ) 
 
 New York, June 3d j 
 
 Mr. George Thatcher : 
 
 I've had to write about you a good many 
 times, and I expect to write about you a 
 good many times in the future. It always 
 gives me pleasure to witness your perform- 
 ances and listen to your original droll say- 
 ings. You may look for me Wednesday 
 night, June 6th, close to the front. 
 
 " Eu Perkins " 
 
TALKS 99 
 
 ENGLISH WIT AND SARCASM 
 
 Garrick Club ) 
 London, July 15th, 1880 j 
 
 Mr. Thatcher, St. James* Hall, Picadilly : 
 
 Pardon me if I ask you to explain what 
 evidently was a bit of your American wit, 
 but for the life of me, old fellow, it is so ob- 
 scure, I failed to see the point. Last night 
 at the club some of the lads, don't you know, 
 were exceedingly amused at my expense or 
 yours. I am at loss to understand which. 
 It happened in this way. My friend Chum- 
 ley introducing us, said, to use his own 
 words, " Mr. Thatcher, my friend Mr. Hart." 
 You said something about a bob-tail flush, 
 don't you know, and everybody howled, but I 
 — and I felt like an ass. Now, old boy, I 
 am going to take a jaunt over to your little 
 country after Lord Mayor's day, and if you 
 have any clubs in America and will show 
 me the droll side of that little remark, pos- 
 sibly I could use it over there and make 
 
IOO TALKS 
 
 some other fellow feel like an ass, don't you 
 know. Respectfully 
 
 Arthur Clevering Barrington Hart 
 
 FROM A COMPOSER 
 
 Mr. Thatcher : 
 
 I have written a new song which I 
 wonld like yonr troupe to sing to-night. 
 I am well known in town here, and if they 
 will sing the song I think you will get a 
 big crowd. I inclose the chorus. If you 
 like, I will come around and teach you the 
 rest. This is the chorus. I forgot to say 
 the song is called, "Papa, kiss me before I 
 depart." It goes like this : 
 Papa, kiss me before I depart 
 
 Mother's hair is turning gray, 
 Sister expects to join the angels, 
 
 Papa, kiss me right away. 
 Kiss, kiss — o-h ! — kiss, kiss me papa, 
 
 O-h ! kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss, o-h ! 
 
 It's all just as good as the above, but 
 
TALKS 103 
 
 there are only six kisses in the last verse. 
 
 Truly, etc., 
 
 H C 
 
 Indianapolis, October 25th, 1888 
 
 AN APPLICATION FROM AN ARTIST 
 
 Syracuse, Sept. 26th, 1889 
 Dear Colonel: 1 — My " pipes " 2 are all 
 right again, and the " plumber " 3 says I can 
 tackle the road once more. I am in pretty 
 good shape, all but my " wheel " 4 and my 
 left "lamp." 6 I hope "biz" 6 is big and 
 want to join on next season. What's the 
 show for a " sit ?" 7 Red's " sails " 8 have 
 gone back on him ; he had them frost-bitten 
 in " Roch." 9 or " Buf." 10 He is here with a 
 new "lid" 11 and "quilt," 12 and a pair of 
 darling " vamps," 13 and " he's out of sight." 14 
 I aint worked since I left the show, and the 
 landlady's getting fresh, but she aint 
 " heeled " 15 — if she had the " stuff" 16 in her 
 14 kicks " 17 she'd put it on the " spread." 18 
 
102 TALKS 
 
 Me and Red is willing to go next season as 
 " Henry Clays " 19 with " trimmings. " 20 
 Yonrs and mine 
 
 Billy R. J 
 
 For the benefit of the reader it will be necessary to add a 
 Key to interpret the expressions made use of so fluently by my 
 friend William : 
 
 1 Colonel — An abused title in this instance. 
 
 2 Pipes — The organs of the throat. 
 
 3 The Plumber— The doctor. 
 * Wheel—The foot. 
 
 6 Lamp— The eye. 
 
 6 Biz — An abbreviation of business. 
 
 » Sit-w An abbreviation of situation. 
 
 c Sails — The ears. 
 
 9 Roch. — Abbreviation of Rochester. 
 io B u f # — Abbreviation of Buffalo. 
 " Lid— A hat. 
 M Quilt — An overcoat. 
 
 13 Vamps — Shoes. 
 
 14 Out of Sight— Looking well. 
 18 Heeled — Having money. 
 
 16 Stuff— Money. 
 " Kicks— Pockets. 
 
 18 Spread— The table. 
 
 19 Henry Clays— Two for twenty-nVe. 
 
 20 Trimmings — Expenses. 
 
TALKS IC3 
 
 THE "SHINDIG" DID IT 
 
 Tuesday 
 To Boss of Show to-night: 
 
 We are going to have a shindig up at 
 old Sam Allen's to-night. It's his birth- 
 day, so we can't go to the show, but if you 
 want to come up after you git through and 
 bring your music up — why we'll give you 
 all the cider you can put away. 
 
 Yours 
 
 The Committee 
 
 LOST OPPORTUNITY 
 
 , N. J., Aug. ist 
 
 Mr. George Thatcher : 
 
 I would like to have your troupe play in 
 - my hall. You would git as much as fifty 
 dollars in the hall sure. It has seats for 
 ninety-four. I just put in some new lamps 
 and ten bran new cane-bottom chairs, and a 
 new heaven for little Eva. 
 
 Yours truly, 
 
104 TALKS 
 
 TERMS ACCEPTED 
 
 A brief correspondence with a profes- 
 sional wag, whom I had found necessary to 
 dispense with, but whose determination was 
 not to be balked. 
 
 Boston, March 6th 
 
 George Thatcher. 
 
 Dear Sir : — What are the best terms you 
 can offer me for the rest of the season ? 
 
 G. H. B 
 
 Philadelphia, March 7th, 1879 
 G. H. B- — 
 
 Sir; — I would not have you on any terms. 
 
 George Thatcher 
 Boston, March 8th 
 
 George Thatcher. 
 
 Dear Sir: — Terms accepted. Will be on 
 immediately. - 
 
 G. H. B 
 
TALKS I05 
 
 A GOOD SUBJECT 
 
 Baltimore, May 4th, 1871 
 
 Mr. Thatcher : 
 
 Do you want to hire a boy? I would like 
 you to take my son John and see what you 
 can do for him. His mother and me has 
 tried everything, but it's no good. We 
 have had him working on a farm, and he 
 has been in the reform school twice. He's 
 no earthly good to anybody, so we have 
 made up our minds to put him on the 
 stage. 
 
 Please answer. 
 
 A. R 
 
 — Arlington Ave. 
 
 A RIVAL INTERCEPTED 
 
 New York, August 14th, 1889 
 George Thatcher. 
 
 Deer Sur : — I wood like a job. i am a 
 yung man, with too voices, i can sing like 
 a reel gurl, or a man besides. Muny haint 
 
106 TALKS 
 
 no objeck, an i think i kin be as big a fool 
 as you air, if i git a sho. Pleas rite or send 
 back stamp herewith in close. 
 Yours trooly, 
 
 P.G.P — , 
 
 Statun F Po. 
 
 CONTRARY OPINIONS 
 
 Chicago, June 18th, 1884 
 Dear Sir : — I would like to go to your 
 performance to-night if there was a guaran- 
 tee of anything new. The last two min- 
 strels that were here sang songs I used to 
 hear my grandfather sing, and told chest- 
 nuts, and looked just the same as they did 
 when I used to go to see them as a boy. 
 The circus now has changed, we have three 
 rings where we had one. The theatre has 
 improved, it gives us more art, more realism. 
 Why must the minstrels still persist in 
 singing the Swanee River, and dressing 
 Uke mourners ? 
 
 John R. B. L- 
 
TALKS 107 
 
 George Thatcher. 
 
 Sir : — Pray pardon my seeming boldness, 
 but I want to ask you if minstrelsy of to- 
 day is what it should be. Why do you 
 not, as one of its important factors, use 
 your influence to restore it to its old-time 
 prestige ? We want not tinsels and gaudi- 
 ness, but the plain, old-fashioned semicircle, 
 such as Bryant, Buckley and Christy gave 
 us. We long for the good old minstrel 
 songs of old. Our ears tingle to hear the 
 Old Folks at Home, and Stephen Foster's 
 old-time gems, and the once more familiar 
 sound of such wit as Eph Horn's story of 
 the chew-chew locomotive. 
 Yours, 
 
 Chas. L. S 
 
 Lynn,>Mass., December 1st, 1884 
 
 WRITTEN UNDER DIFFICULTIES 
 
 Possibly the reader may have undergone 
 the experience of trying to compose a letter 
 
108 TALKS 
 
 in a room occupied by others who are hold- 
 ing various conversations on as many dif- 
 ferent themes. The following letter is sup- 
 posed to have been written by a commercial 
 traveler in a hotel office, while surrounded 
 by the usual after-dinner gathering. He, 
 in an unconscious mood mixed his missive 
 with such a conglomeration of remarks that 
 gave his better half such uneasiness as to 
 cause her to pause between insisting upon 
 an examination before the board of lunacy 
 or a divorce court. It runs thus : 
 
 My Darling Wife : 
 
 How I long to see you, dear. Cords 
 quoted at6j}4. I miss your loving face every 
 hour of the what bosh ! rubbish. I was think- 
 ing just now of poor Lucy. Pm mashed on 
 her sister. You know, my dearest wife, there 
 is not a moment pork is dull and I shall al- 
 ways regard our home with too much beer 
 to me it is the only s^ot you 1 re off, even now 
 I can see your sweet tariff reform before my 
 
TALKS t09 
 
 clean towels in 27. Tell your dear mother 
 she } s spavined. I would not trade the chil- 
 dren are all well. And Aunt Hannah says 
 she can trot in 16. I shall call in the morn- 
 ing and have one with me. I am not feeling 
 well, so shall take three cards please believe 
 me my thoughts are always a dollar harder. 
 Your loving husband, 
 
 Jack Pott. 
 
IIO TALKS 
 
 CONDENSED TALKS 
 
 Everything equalizes itself in this world. 
 The rich man has ice in the summer and 
 the poor man in the winter. 
 
 Why is Jewish bread like the Brooklyn 
 Bridge ? 
 
 Because it's made to pass-over. 
 
 I knew a man in Jersey who was the 
 meanest, stingiest man I ever saw. He had 
 a wart on his neck and he was so mean that 
 he used it for a collar-button. 
 
 A young lady of my acquaintance had 
 the loveliest hair I ever saw. I told Joe 
 about it and he said it was a chestnut ; but 
 it wasn't, for she bought it yesterday. She 
 gave her chestnut hair to her sister. 
 
TALKS * * I 
 
 It's astonishing the jealousy existing in 
 rival cities in the West. Now, for example, 
 take the twin cities, Minneapolis and St. 
 Paul. They actually talk of taking the 
 Bible out of the public schools in Minne- 
 apolis just because it mentions St. Paul and 
 don't say anything about Minneapolis. 
 
 Old Mrs. Simmons had a christening up 
 at her house yesterday. It was twins — they 
 Joth came in the world at the same time, 
 so she named one " Simul " and the other 
 11 Taneus." Simultaneous — see ? 
 
 If you don't know why they always 
 speak of a city as she I can tell you. It's 
 because there is so much bustle about it. 
 
 Here's a little point I've just discovered 
 in Astrology. The sun is the father of the 
 moon. It's not much credit to him though, 
 for the moon gets full once a month and 
 generally does it on its last quarter ; but 
 
112 TALKS 
 
 then the sun is just as bad — he never shows 
 up till morning. 
 
 Why is a cigar like the opera ? If it's 
 good you'll take a " box," but if it's bad, 
 no matter how much " puffing " you give it, 
 it will not " draw." 
 
 I saw a friend of mine to-day. He said 
 he was so glad to hear of my success. He 
 said it pleased him to know I began at the 
 bottom and worked up. I told him I was 
 sorry he couldn't do the same in his busi- 
 ness — he's a well-digger. 
 
 I was made a godfather yesterday. I stood 
 up for a young lady in a street-car. 
 
 When I was a boy going to school, we 
 used to have fine fun. There were 
 two teachers, Mr. Johnson and Mr, Hugg. 
 Johnson used to teach the boys and Hugg 
 the girls. 
 
TALKS 113 
 
 I called on a young lady last evening and 
 lost my overcoat. When I came in she 
 said, " Take off your overcoat — you won't 
 feel it when you go out." And I didn't ! 
 
 Did you hear Germany had gone prohibi- 
 tion ? Bismarck took water. 
 
 I had trouble at my boarding-house this 
 morning. I complained to the landlady 
 that everything about the place was going 
 from bad to worse, and as I sat down to 
 dinner I told her the napkins were damp. 
 She cruelly remarked that she rubbed them 
 on my board bill and it was all over due. 
 
 A friend of mine went down to Coney 
 Island the other day and took a dip. I 
 asked him how he found the water, and he 
 said, " Easy enough. It was all around the 
 island." I went down there frequently 
 last summer. I didn't like it, though. I 
 was under medical treatment. My physi- 
 
114 TALKS 
 
 cian told me it was necessary to take a stiff 
 drink after coming ont of the water, but I 
 had to give it up. It kept me going in the 
 water all the time. 
 
 You don't know why a water-melon is so 
 full of water ? It's because they are planted 
 in the spring. 
 
 That little brother of mine, Jimmy, swal- 
 lowed a silver dollar yesterday, and we 
 called in a doctor. He vaccinated him two 
 or three times, and fished around with a 
 hook and line for five hours, but he couldn't 
 find the dollar. Then he stood him on his 
 head, and put mustard-plasters all over him, 
 but all to no avail. But it's all right, 
 Jimmy's going with Barnum's circus. Bar- 
 num says there's money in him. 
 
 I went to meeting last Sunday. Laws ! 
 how it did rain ! I took my umbrella with 
 
TALKS 115 
 
 me, put it under the seat, and when I came 
 out it was raining harder than ever. I 
 looked for my umbrella — it was gone — some 
 one had stolen it. I went right back, and 
 before anybody got out, I stood up and 
 said, " Brothers and sisters, somebody has 
 stolen my umbrella. I am not going to say 
 who took it, but if that umbrella isn't in 
 my back yard by six o'clock to-morrow 
 morning I'll come round next Sunday morn- 
 ing and tell the whole congregation who 
 stole it." What was the consequence? 
 When I woke up next morning the back 
 yard was full of umbrellas. 
 
 CLIPPINGS FROM THE PRESS 
 
 Wanted. — A treasurer for a bank ; one 
 without arms preferred. 
 
 Wanted. — A young Christian gentleman 
 desires to exchange religion for good board. 
 
 Lost. — A little dog, by a gentleman with 
 a muzzle, who answers to the name of 
 "Fido." 
 
Il6 TALKS 
 
 Lost. — A black goat, by a widow lady 
 with a broken horn. 
 
 For Sale.— A magnificent rosewood piano, 
 by a gentleman with carved legs. 
 
 To Let. — Delightful summer residence, 
 two minutes' walk from station, one mile to 
 nearest saloon, and directly opposite insane 
 asylum. 
 
 For Sale. — Two lots, by a gentleman 
 next door to the brick-yard ; can be had at a 
 bargain, as the owner is not expected to 
 live. 
 
 Business Opportunity. — Two young gen- 
 tlemen are willing to go into business, on 
 capital furnished by any charitably inclined 
 person. 
 
 Wanted. — A first-class cook desires a po- 
 sition as housekeeper with some wealthy 
 widower who does not object to onions and 
 genial companionship. 
 
 I never knew how much ice-cream a young 
 lady could eat until I went home and con- 
 
TALKS 117 
 
 suited my arithmetic, and it distinctly says, 
 and I have no right to dispute it, that one 
 gal. is equal to four quarts. 
 
 Did you hear about Peterson jumping off 
 the Brooklyn Bridge ? The papers said it 
 was a case of suicide, but it wasn't, it was a 
 case of drop-see. 
 
 Asparagus is the most aesthetic of all 
 vegetables, because it's too awfully butt. 
 
 My young lady is an awfully sweet 
 talker. She has no teeth, and all her words 
 are gum drops. 
 
 That's a peculiar sign in front of tbat 
 cyster house on Canal Street, " Wanted. — 
 A young man to open oysters seventeen 
 years old." 
 
 What do you think ! Joe Miller says he 
 showed his girl my picture one day last 
 
Il8 .TALKS 
 
 week, saying it was taken for him, and she 
 hasn't spoken to him since. " 
 
 My Uncle Zeb had the baldest head I 
 ever saw — just about six hairs on each side 
 — and when he tried to brush them over his 
 baldness he put me in mind of a rabbit dog. 
 He would make a little "hare" go a long 
 way. 
 
 If you were to die and I were to marry 
 your wife, what relation would I be to her ? 
 Why her step-husband — you would step out 
 and I would step in. 
 
 If I were going to marry I would want 
 my wife to resemble an almanac, for then I 
 could get a new one every year. 
 
 A speaker once remarked at a mass meet- 
 ing, u The great voice of the people demands 
 a change in the division of money. It is 
 not equally divided and it should be by all 
 
TALKS "9 
 
 means. If I had my way, I'd call in all the 
 money in the country, then I'd get every- 
 body around and share and share alike, and 
 say : now go off and spend it and have a 
 good time," when a voice broke in, " Yes, 
 but after they had spent it all, what then ?" 
 "Why," said he, " I'd call it all in and di- 
 vide it all over again." 
 
 Did you ever know the New family? 
 They used to live out in Denver. Oh ! my, 
 what a large family it was ! There were 
 seventeen children, all boys. There was 
 John New, and James New, and Henry and 
 Joseph. There were so many that they ran 
 out of names. THb last boy was named 
 Nothing New. Then there was a little baby 
 girl — the first one. They named her Some- 
 thing — Something New. 
 
 The latest thing in shoes. Feet. 
 
 Did you ever notice how everything about 
 
120 TALKS 
 
 the post-office suggests the gentler sex ? In 
 the first place, all the mails go there, and 
 anything that suggests the feminine gender 
 naturally attracts the males. And then, 
 again, every lady represents a letter, or 
 something pertaining to the post-office. 
 Take, as an example, a young married 
 woman. She represents a letter that has 
 reached its destination. The young lady 
 who has been crossed in love resembles a 
 letter that has been missent. The nurse 
 girls represent the carriers' department. 
 Our millionaires' daughters, who are look- 
 ing for titles, are always after the foreign 
 mails (males) , and an old maid represents a 
 letter lost in the general delivery. 
 
 If there were only three women in the 
 world, two of them would occupy their time 
 getting together and talking about the other 
 one. And if there were only three men, 
 their time would be occupied running after 
 the three women. 
 
TALKS T 2 l 
 
 It's bound to occur — a tin can to a yellow 
 dog's tail ! 
 
 A neighbor of mine is an unhappy speci- 
 men of matrimonial existence. He's a car- 
 riage maker by trade. He says his wife 
 never "spoke" kindly to him, and her wag- 
 ging (wagon) tongue makes him tire. 
 
 You will observe I am suffering from a 
 cold this evening. I went out for a ride in 
 a driving rain, got a hacking cough and am 
 a little ho(a)rse. 
 
 A fellow had the impertinence to come up 
 to me on the street and say he would like 
 to borrow my face for five minutes. When 
 I asked him what for, he said a young lady 
 had fallen in love with him and he wanted 
 to " shake " her. 
 
 The other day I asked a friend of mine a 
 question, and he allowed his patriotism to 
 
122 TALKS 
 
 get the better of his common sense. I said 
 to him, " If yon were abont to depart from 
 this earthly sphere, would yon rather die 
 an American or an Irishman ?" He re- 
 sponded quickly, with a spread-eagle wave 
 of his e-pluribus-unum arm, "I would rather 
 die an American." Now that's where he 
 was wrong. If you die an American that's 
 the end of it, but if you die an Irishman 
 they wake you. 
 
 I went out to the races last week and a 
 " tout " gave me some tips. He told me to 
 bet on " Tapioca " — it was a pudding. Then 
 he told me about a horse named " Hydrant'' 
 — he ran well. Then I plunged on " Broom " 
 — it was a clean sweep. The next race I 
 took a horse named " Hebrew " — he won by 
 a nose, and in the last dash I took a fine- 
 looking animal called " La Grippe " — and 
 he led at the quarter, half, and three-quarter. 
 Everything looked favorable for " La 
 Grippe," who was a length ahead in the 
 home-stretch, but just as they came under 
 the wire, in flew Enza (influenza). 
 
TALKS 123 
 
 ADVICE TO AMATEURS 
 
 The last few years it seems to be the 
 rage among amateurs to present minstrelsy 
 at their home entertainments, and the 
 question is often asked how to begin the 
 preparations for such performances. When 
 the few points, which I shall endeavor to 
 explain, are carried out as far as practica- 
 ble, I think the task can be accomplished 
 without much difficulty. First, the pro- 
 jectors should form themselves into differ- 
 ent committees, that the different depart- 
 ments may have a thorough management. 
 They should not conflict, and each com- 
 mittee should take entire control of its 
 special department. I would suggest for 
 this purpose the following : 
 
 Committee on Finance, whose duty should 
 be that of taking charge of all monetary 
 affairs (should the performance be given 
 with a view of benefit) , and to control the 
 receipts. 
 
124 TALKS 
 
 Committee on Entertainment \ to select the 
 gentlemen who are to take part in the per- 
 formance, to see that they are provided with 
 ballads, comic songs, jokes, etc., and to 
 arrange them in consistent order upon the 
 programme, to procure costumes, and if 
 necessary engage music, etc. 
 
 Committee on Printing and Advertising, 
 to take charge of tickets, programmes, 
 newspaper advertisements, and whatever 
 may be deemed advisable in the way of 
 printed matter for distribution. 
 
 To reach an estimate of the expenditures, 
 it would be well to inquire into the expense 
 that will attend the following : 
 
 Rent of hall 
 
 Musicians necessary 
 
 Printing tickets 
 
 programmes 
 
 (extra) 
 
 Advertising in local press 
 
 Rental of costumes and wigs 
 
 Burnt cork 
 
 Price of tambourines and bones 
 
TALKS 125 
 
 Orchestral arrangement of ballads and comic 
 
 songs 
 
 Part arrangement for singers 
 
 Ushers and doorkeepers' services 
 
 Fans, gloves, boutonniers, etc., for performers 
 
 Stage properties required 
 
 Express charges • 
 
 Having gone thus far into tlie details, the 
 next important move for the Committee 
 on Entertainment is to notify those who are 
 to take part as to the time and place of re* 
 hearsals, to which fully two weeks should 
 be given, one each day or evening, lasting in 
 every instance from three to four hours, ac- 
 cording to progress. Upon every one should 
 be impressed the importance of punctuality 
 and strict attention. 
 
 The Committee on Entertainment should 
 in the meantime call a special meeting, ap- 
 point the performers, and make selections 
 of songs, jokes, etc., before the initial re- 
 hearsal. 
 
 At the first rehearsal the chairman of the 
 above committee should announce the se* 
 
126 
 
 TALKS 
 
 lections to the persons present. He should 
 then hand each gentleman his particular 
 part for solo or chorus, and with the aid of 
 a piano the singers should familiarize them- 
 selves with these selections. Little or no 
 headway beyond this can be made at the 
 first rehearsal or meeting. 
 
 At the second rehearsal, and always there- 
 after, the stage should be arranged with 
 chairs as follows, occupied by the perform- 
 ers in every instance, the end-men on all 
 occasions using bones and tambourines to 
 perfect themselves in harmonious move- 
 ments. 
 
 &&& ? LATF0RM FOR Music m* s AT 
 
 O O O O O O o 
 
 4Q£ 
 
 » rs O U ~ Z ~ Z ^ U O Q » 
 
 n O ~ »* ^ 
 
 1 1 * i l * 
 
 to s 
 
 £ ft w ? to to 
 
 r S- |- s. S. e „ ^ 
 
 3 o orq a o 
 
 1 1 
 
 §■ 
 
TALKS 127 
 
 The order of the programme should then 
 be followed, carefully repeating each num- 
 ber as many times as may be necessary to 
 show an improvement to the committee. 
 As a guide to such procedure I would suggest 
 the following outline for an order of enter 
 tainment : 
 
 Overture (of popular airs) . . . Orchestra 
 With grand choruses, plenty of tambourine 
 and bone-work, and a lively finish. 
 
 PART FIRST 
 
 Aolucking Jubilee Song, by Bones and 
 
 Tambo 
 
 Jokes by Bonks 
 
 Baimd, by Tenor 
 
 Jokes by Tambo 
 
 Comic Song, ... by Bones 
 
 Bau,ad, by Baritone 
 
 Jokes by Bones (2) 
 
 Comic Song, ... by Tambo 
 
 Bau<ad, by Base** 
 
 Jokes by Tambo (2) 
 Selection for Quartette 
 
128 TALKS 
 
 PART SECOND 
 
 Banjo or other instrumental 
 Selection 
 Dancing Specialty 
 
 Stump Speech 
 
 Comic Quartette 
 
 After-piece 
 
 There is no costume more becoming for 
 *he minstrel First Part, than the full-dress 
 suit, with a distinction for the comedian, 
 effected by removing the buttons and 
 using brass ones, wearing a large collar 
 with points, and an extravagant necktie. 
 The others in the circle wear the regulation 
 evening dress, with white ties. In prepar- 
 ing to color the skin use nothing before 
 applying the? prepared burnt-cork, which 
 can be had of every wig-maker in the 
 country, and in removing it use only cold 
 water, a soap that is free to lather, and a 
 bath-sponge. All kinds of devices are 
 offered, but in an experience of over twenty 
 years I find that plain soap and water is 
 
TALKS I2 9 
 
 more effective than any modern invention I 
 have ever found. 
 
 The last rehearsal on the day of the per- 
 formance should be merely a running over of 
 crude points. The gentlemen taking part 
 should be rested as much as possible before 
 facing the ordeal. And, allow me to say, 
 my dear amateur, if you have never before 
 faced an audience and fancy it is not an 
 ordeal, you will doubtless have an oppor- 
 tunity to change your mind when the cur- 
 tain rises and you find yourself born to 
 blush unseen — hidden by a layer of burnt- 
 cork and glaring over the footlights into a 
 vast sea of human faces. 
 
13° TALKS 
 
 WHAT CONSTITUTES SUCCESS- 
 FUL MANAGEMENT 
 
 Liberality without extravagance should 
 be the motto of every manager who wishes 
 to achieve distinction in any branch of the 
 amusement world. Penuriousness and suc- 
 cess are not synonymous words. It is an 
 impossibility to succeed in the profession 
 unless a cautious, open-handed policy is 
 strictly followed, and good judgment is dis- 
 played even in the most minute matters 
 pertaining to, the business. To imagine 
 that the manager's lot is a bed of roses 
 is a fallacy. And a knowledge of the 
 undertaking before plunging headlong into 
 the vortex is as essential as in any other 
 calling. 
 
 For the benefit of would-be managers, I 
 modestly make these assertions, and bid 
 them beware. 
 
 That you may be posted in one kind of 
 
TALKS 131 
 
 public business, it does not follow that 
 there is nothing to learn in still another 
 branch. "Ne sutor ultra crepidam" 
 
 Capital plays a most important part in the 
 
 drama of " Ambition ;" Experience enacts 
 
 the role of the Teacher, and Folly appears 
 
 as the heavy villain, who, in the last act, 
 
 after playing havoc all through the drama, 
 
 gives way to Reason, the hero ! 
 
 The aspirant for managerial laurels, who, 
 through some other calling for which he is 
 particularly fitted by nature, has been for- 
 tunate enough to lay by a few hundred dol- 
 lars, and longing for notoriety in the pro- 
 fession, is generally doomed. He invests 
 his all in all, and when he sees his name in 
 flaming letters on a three-sheet poster as the 
 " Sole Manager," the zenith of his ambition 
 seems to have been reached. But how soon 
 the majority realize to their sorrow that 
 something besides their little savings are 
 necessary. There is not a week passes over 
 our heads, but " one more unfortunate" is 
 
132 TALKS 
 
 added to the list of those gone before, who 
 have been led into the trap by some wary 
 schemer with a " new play," or a " star of 
 the first magnitude." 
 
 During all the years I have been in the 
 profession, and for many as a manager, I 
 find there is something to learn every day. 
 The manager never graduates ; he must 
 keep up with his class, whether Freshmen 
 or Sophomore, ab initio, to the end. 
 
 The great majority of managers of wealth 
 and standing to-day are men who have suf- 
 fered the vicissitudes of a menial position, 
 and have made themselves practical profes- 
 sionals, by application and careful study, 
 which experience alone can furnish. 
 
 I find the minstrel business, in many in- 
 stances, differs very little from the oper- 
 atic, dramatic, or other branches, which 
 the vulgar are pleased to term " show " 
 business. Show me a comedy, with a weak 
 beginning and finish, even though its 
 middle be well filled, and I will show you 
 
TALKS 133 
 
 a failure. Point me out a minstrel per- 
 formance with inferior singing and a dull, 
 insipid afterpiece, no matter what its "Olio" 
 may provide, and I will show you the same 
 result. Everything — as in life — should 
 begin well, and finish better. The public 
 are capricious, and pay their money to judge 
 for themselves, and expect their tastes, not 
 the managers, to be suited. If they want 
 beef a la mode y he cannot surfeit them with 
 boiled ham. 
 
 I remember a well-known manager who 
 died a few years ago, who had a decided ob- 
 jection to his patrons' dictation. He was a 
 clever actor, and as eccentric as he was 
 talented. He had built a very handsome 
 theatre at his native place in the South- 
 west, and the elite of the city had taken unto 
 themselves to make Friday the fashionable 
 night. Consequently, while the receipts 
 suffered every other evening of the week, 
 there was always a cultured, dressy, crowded 
 attendance each Friday. The city finally 
 
*34 TALKS 
 
 became known as a Friday-night town, or a 
 
 one-night stand. This so angered my old 
 friend that he determined to break it np. He 
 remarked he wonld rnn his theatre his way 
 and the fashionable play-goers must not be 
 their own judges. His motto was identical 
 with that of a well-known millionaire — "The 
 
 public be ." My friend, Manager M : 
 
 set about his task after this manner : He 
 announced Friday nights as the " People's 
 Nights," and placed the prices for that par- 
 ticular evening at one-half the usual rates 
 of admission. The result was that the fash- 
 ionable world of that little aristocratic city 
 stayed away altogether, and the "people" 
 responded only on Friday evenings. The 
 box-office returns continually showed him 
 the error of his ways, and after a desperate 
 struggle he changed his policy, and re- 
 turned to first principles, fully convinced 
 that it was not in his province to dictate to 
 his patrons. 
 
 I have been personally connected with 
 
TALKS 135 
 
 several partners, during my managerial 
 experience, and differences, as a conse- 
 quence, have frequently arisen. In one in- 
 stance, a gentleman with whom I was asso* 
 ciated had the rather vague impression that 
 if the song and dance was perfection, the 
 rest of the performance was as naught 
 He was under the strange hallucination that 
 the public came only to see a terpsichorean 
 specialty, and to hear six or eight young 
 men in flashing tights warble : 
 
 " ' Neath the flowers in the sunlight, 
 Happy moments we will while ; 
 As we dance to merry strain-lets, 
 In our captivating style.' ' 
 
 Of course I had no reasonable objection 
 to make to the " merry strain-lets," or their 
 " captivating style " — I knew the public 
 liked it, but they wanted other song-lets and 
 joke-lets and they did not care to have us 
 retrench in other departments. They came, 
 in plentiful numbers, to hear good balladists, 
 good specialists, good songs and dances and 
 
I3 6 TALKS 
 
 marches — in fact, everything first class, in 
 accordance with the liberality of their 
 patronage. With considerable effort, thongh 
 only a voice in the matter, and after mnch 
 persuasion, I succeeded in gaining the point 
 regarding the public demand, only to renew 
 again, upon re-organization, my same argu- 
 ment ; and I am conceited enough to say, 
 if you will pardon me, that to these con- 
 cessions in my favor a portion (N. B. — I am 
 modest enough to admit a portion) of the 
 success achieved was due to my well-taken 
 point. 
 
 Therefore, in conclusion, let me advise 
 every one of non-experience, who has a 
 thought of one day entering the managerial 
 field, to bear in mind the words of Davy 
 Crockett : 
 
 " Be sure you're right, then go ahead." 
 
 Do not attempt too much ; begin as our 
 
 leading managers began. If you know 
 
 it all before commencing, take my advice 
 
 and don't go at it. If your mind is fully 
 
TALKS 137 
 
 settled and you are assured that destiny has 
 selected you for an operatic impressario, a 
 theatrical or minstrel manager, then begin, 
 by all means, by gaining the respect of the 
 people, socially and professionally, with 
 whom you are brought in contact. Secure 
 the commendation of the public, the esteem 
 of your brother managers, and the confi- 
 dence of your creditors, and you will succeed 
 in lightening the burden of responsibility 
 that is necessarily attached to the arduous 
 duties that constitute successful manage- 
 ment. 
 
I38 TALKS ' ' 
 
 VALEDICTORY 
 
 In closing this conglomeration of occa- 
 sional originalities and superfluously liberal 
 snpply of antedilnvian and preadamite pre- 
 amble, I most humbly beg the reader's leni- 
 ency in the matter of criticism, and pray 
 that he or she, as the case may be, will not 
 think I have assnmed too mnch in present- 
 ing these plain, unvarnished tales. I have 
 taken as my text that good old proverb ; 
 
 " A little nonsense now and then 
 Is relished by the best of men." 
 I do not assume for one moment that I am 
 aufait as a literatus, nor have I, as they say 
 in Latin, &cocoethes scribendi, but still I dare 
 to hope that amongst all of these little incon- 
 sistencies there may be a bonne bouche that 
 perchance may act as a brutum fulmen on 
 the risibility of the non-skeptical critic, who 
 by accident or from causes unknown, may 
 fn a misguided moment have selected this 
 
TALKS 139 
 
 little book to bestow upon it a tithe of their 
 time. While I shall be deeply flattered by 
 any attention that may be conferred upon it, 
 I will not lay the flattering unction to my 
 soul that it is inspired by any (portrayal) of 
 genius on my part. Man proposes and 
 his publisher disposes. Therefore, in say- 
 ing Adieu, my dear reader, let me request 
 you to consider the motive which alone, and 
 to its fullest meaning, is described so flu- 
 ently in the two lines above, quoted from the 
 immortal Ben Jonson and so 
 
 Vive vale (farewell and be happy). 
 
FORTUNE 
 TELLING 
 
 By Madame Xanto 
 
 9 I HIS complete and thoroughly 
 up-to-date volume contains a 
 vast fund of information, regarding the 
 various methods of foretelling future 
 events by means of cards, dominoes, 
 tea and coffee grounds, dice, etc., to- 
 gether with love charms, chapters 
 on flower language, phrenology, palm- 
 istry, and Napoleon's Oraculum. 
 Paper binding, 25 cents. 
 
 THE PENN PUBLISHING COMPANY 
 925 Filbert St., Philadelphia 
 
Love letters 
 
 By Isabelle Ingram 
 
 A N invaluable book on the eti- 
 quette of introductions, court- 
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 when to use and how to write love 
 letters, and a continuous series of en- 
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 for every occasion on which a love 
 letter is required, and is the most 
 sensible book on the subject in print 
 Paper binding, 25 cents. 
 
 THE PENN PUBLISHING COMPANY 
 925 Filbert St,, Philadelphia 
 
BOXING 
 
 By J. C. Trotter 
 
 ^T^HERE is no better physical ex- 
 ercise than boxing, and none 
 more generally v misunderstood and 
 abused. This book not only thor- 
 oughly covers all phases of the sub- 
 ject, but presents it in such an intelli- 
 gent way that any one, by following 
 the simple directions given here, can 
 easily become a proficient boxer. 
 Illustrated by numerous drawings. 
 Paper binding, 25 cents. 
 
 THE PENN PUBLISHING COMPANY 
 925 Filbert St., Philadelphia i 
 
CARD TRICKS 
 
 By Ellis Stanyon 
 
 ^^fO more agreeable form of public 
 or private amusement can be 
 devised than that of successful card 
 tricks. The great trouble is usually 
 the difficulty in learning the tricks or 
 in successfully producing them. The 
 information contained in this book 
 covers not only the more popular 
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 production of many entirely new ones, 
 and in such a plain and clear manner 
 as to render their success certain. 
 Illustrated by numerous drawings. 
 Paper binding, 25 cents. 
 
 THE PENN PUBLISHING COMPANY 
 Q25 Filbert St., Philadelphia 
 
CONUNDRUMS 
 
 By Dean Rivers 
 
 /CONUNDRUMS are intellectual 
 exercises which sharpen our wits 
 and lead us to think quickly and to 
 the point. They are also the source 
 of an infinite amount of pleasure 
 and amusement, whiling away tedious 
 hours, and putting every one in a 
 good humor. This collection wiD 
 afford recreation for those who gather 
 around the fireside to make merry 
 with their friends, and will greatly 
 quicken their natural intelligence. 
 Paper binding, 25 cents. 
 
 THE PENN PUBLISHING COMPANY 
 925 Filbert St., Philadelphia 
 
TALKS 
 
 By George Thatcher 
 
 THE CELEBRATED MINSTREL 
 
 ' I ^HIS book supplies in a most 
 satisfactory way the want that 
 has been but indifferently met by 
 the usual stump-speech book. Mr. 
 Thatcher is without doubt the most 
 popular man in minstrelsy, his name 
 being known among mirth -loving 
 people everywhere, not only in 
 America, but beyond the seas. The 
 book, a very library of humor, con- 
 tains all his Monologues, Parodies, 
 Songs, Sketches, Poems, and Jokes. 
 Paper binding, 25 cents. 
 
 THE PENN PUBLISHING COMPANY 
 Q25 Filbert St., Philadelphia 
 
JOKES 
 
 Gathered by Henry Firth Wood 
 
 THE POPULAR HUMORISl 
 
 HT^HIS attractive little volume is a 
 collection of the brightest, fun- 
 niest, and most catchy jokes of the 
 day. They are all short, some of 
 them occupying only six or eight 
 lines, but they are as pointed as short, 
 and all are fairly bristling with wit 
 and humor of the keenest kind. 
 There are no old ones among them, 
 the collection being the very ktest crop. 
 There are some clever illustrations. 
 Paper binding, 25 cents. 
 
 THE PENN PUBLISHING COMPANY 
 925 Filbert St., Philadelphia 
 
BASE BALL 
 
 By John Montgomery Ward 
 
 <——■■ — — — 
 
 TTOW to become a player, with 
 the origin, history, and explana- 
 tion of the game. The book not 
 only tells how every position should 
 be played, but shows how to use the 
 different curves, how to mislead the 
 batter, to hit safely, to steal bases 
 —in fact, it gives complete directions 
 for becoming an expert player, 
 
 Paper binding, 25 cents 
 Cloth binding, 50 cents 
 
 THE PENN PUBLISHING COMPANY 
 925 Filbert St., Philadelphia 
 
THE DOG 
 
 By John Maxteb 
 
 A HANDY volume for everyone 
 who owns a dog. How to se- 
 lect any particular breed, the care of 
 the dog from time of puppyhood, 
 his diseases, manner of training for 
 show purposes, tricks that may be 
 taught — these and a thousand other 
 matters of interest are here told in sim- 
 plest form. Numerous illustrations. 
 Paper binding, 25 cents. 
 
 THE PENN PUBLISHING COMPANY 
 925 Filbert St., Philadelphia 
 
FULL OF FUN 
 
 ' I V HIS book is composed of three 
 popular titles : Conundrums, 
 by Dean Rivers i Talks, by George 
 Thatcher, and Jokes, by Henry 
 Firth Wood, thus containing the best 
 and freshest in all that is bright and 
 witty. It will afford excellent amuse- 
 ment for the fireside, prove a storehouse 
 from which to draw material for anec- 
 dote or illustration, and be valuable 
 for public reading or entertainment. 
 
 Paper binding, 50 cents. 
 
 THE PENN PUBLISHING COMPANY 
 
 025 Filbert St.- Philadelphia 
 
DREAM BOOK 
 
 By Madame Xanto 
 
 ^pHERE'S "something in" 
 dreams. They have a mean* 
 ing and a relation to one's hopes and 
 prospects. Dreams may be a guide 
 to action, with such a sure key as 
 this simple and scientific book affords. 
 All haphazard guess work and super- 
 stitious nonsense has been eliminated 
 and only the most reliable authorities, 
 including the Old English, Celtic, and 
 Gypsy, have been consulted. The 
 Xanto Oracle also answers with sur- 
 prising clearness many questions of 
 v ital interest to the reader. 
 
 Paper binding, 25 cents 
 
 THE PENN PUBLISHING COMPANY 
 925 Filbert St., Philadelphia 
 
PLAYS 
 
 And books for all kinds of Entertain- 
 ments and Exhibitions. Send for ful 
 descriptive catalogue to The Penr 
 Publishing Company, No. 925 Filberl 
 Street, Philadelphia. 
 
■ 
 
 •i-j^v.