Thursday's Serial: "Babes in Toyland" by Glen MacDonough (in English) - I

 

A Musical Comedy in three acts.

Book & Lyrics by Glen MacDonough

Music by Victor Herbert

Produced 13 Oct. 1903, at the Majestic Theatre in New York, but this is a later version [undated].

 

CAST

UNCLE BARNABY, A rich miser.

ALAN, His nephew.

JANE, His niece.

THE WIDOW PIPER, A lonely widow with fourteen children.

TOM TOM, Her eldest son.

CONTRARY MARY, Her eldest daughter.

HILDA, A maid of all work for the Piper family.

RODERIGO, a ruffian

GONZORGO, a ruffian

14 Widow Piper's Children

JILL

BOY BLUE

BO PEEP

MISS MUFFETT

SIMPLE SIMON

CURLY LOCKS

BOBBY SHAFTON

SALLIE WATERS

RED RIDING HOOD, and etc.

THE GIANT SPIDER

THE MASTER TOY MAKER

GRUMIO, His assistant.

INSPECTOR MARMADUKE, of the Toyland Police.

 

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ACT I

SCENE I: The scene shows the garden of Contrary Mary near the Widow Piper's home. A cask of ale and decorations and pennats and bunting suggest a fete. A party of peasants as the scene is revealed. No. 1. -- Country Dance and entrance of the Chorus. UNCLE BARNABY enters at the end of the dance, smirking and bowing right and left. The peasants snub him.

Barnaby - Enjoy yourselves, enjoy yourselves, my dear friends. I am delighted to see you so happy. Are the Piper children here - and especially Contrary Mary?

Jill - No, Master Barnaby, Mary didn't come to the Fete.

Barnaby -  That's strange, I'm giving it to please her -- and to make you all a little fonder of me.

Jill - Why, are you our host?

Barnaby -  Yes.

Jill - (To the crowd) - Only yesterday he seized poor old Mother Hubbard's house and turned her into the road, all for a debt of a few shillings! (Crowd jeer at Barnaby)

1st Girl (To the crowd) - Let's finish the afternoon by putting Barnaby under the town pump!

All - Hurrah! (Start to take Barnaby away. TOM TOM enters up R.)

Jill -  Hi! Tom Tom, just in time!

Tom (Coming down C.) - What for?

Barnaby (Rushing to Tom) - To save me from the town pump! Stop 'em, my boy, stop 'em, don't let 'em hurt your future brother-in-law!

Tom (At C. laughing) - What you? Which of my sisters had caught your miserly eye?

Barnaby (Ecstatically) - It's Mary --willful, but entrancing Mary!

Tom (Derisively) - YOU want to marry Contrary Mary? You might as well try to turn off the sun and blow out the stars! (All laugh) But let him go, friends, as a favor to me! We may be relatives yet. (Goes down L.)

Barnaby (L.C.) - Ah! Then there's hope for me with Contrary Mary?

Tom Not a gleam, but some day, you may be my uncle-in-law!

Barnaby (With pretended grief) If you mean my niece Jane? She and Alan are at the bottom of the sea.

Tom - I don't believe it!

Barnaby (Mopping eyes with handkerchief) - They'll never come back to their broken-hearted Uncle Barnaby! (TOM TOM goes up stage)

Jill - And what's their broken-hearted Uncle Barnaby going to do with their fortune?

(CROWD again gathers around Barnaby)

Barnaby (Hypocritically) - I'm keeping it for them --the law forces me to do tat.

Jill -Trust you to take good care of money. You skinflint! But you'll be wise if you take better care to keep out of our way hereafter. Now go! (They all jeer and threaten him. BARNABY is chased off up R. He exits, followed by Jill & all. TOM picks up his staff and bundle from steps of house. HILDA enters from house left.)

Hilda - Master Tom Tom where are you going?

Tom - Hilda, I'm going to find the girl I'm in love with - Jane.

Hilda - Old Barnaby's niece? ---(Gonzorgo and Roderigo enter up right) But wasn't she lost at sea with her brother Alan?

Tom - Old Barnaby says so, and that's why I don't believe it.

Gonzorgo (Dropping down to him) - But me and my sad faced companion can prove it. We were the sole survivors of the wreck.

Tom - And who are you?

Gonzorgo - I was in charge of the ship, my name is Gonzorgo. (Pointing to Roderigo.) This is my mate and friend to boot.

Roderigo - Yes, friend to boot!

Gonzorgo - We swear by our right hands (They raise left hands) everyone was lost on the ship but us.

Hilda - I don't think they're telling the truth!

Tom - Nor do I! (Looking instantly at both of them) I remember seeing you two some place before, where was it?

Roderigo - You don't by any chance go in for the three B's do you?

Gonzorgo - Yes, the three B's. Bridge, Bank Nite and Bingo!

Tom (Pointing at Gonzorgo) - I saw you at the Village Fair. You were running the carasel. And you offered to wager you could pick the horse that would come in first.

Gonzorgo (Drawing sword) - You can't accuse us of cheating, it must have been two other scoundrels. Defend yourself! (Attacks TOM, who parries with his staff and knocks Gon's sword from his hand as WIDOW PIPER enters from the house L.)

Hilda (Running to her) - Oh, Mrs. Piper, you're just in time!

Widow (Coming down C.) - Tom, don't be rude to the gentleman!

Gonzorgo (Gallantly) - Madam, is he your little boy?

Widow - Yes, he is the black sheep of our family -- but I love him!

Gonzorgo - He can't be the white-haired boy and still a black sheep.

Roderigo - Maybe she's color blind.

Gonzorgo - Because of that, I spare him. (Picks up sword, Tom and Hilda go up stage)

Widow - Accept the blessings of a lonely widow!

Gonzorgo (Elbowing Roderigo away) - Have you been lonely long?

Widow - Two years.

Roderigo (Pointing to Tom) - And have you only the white-haired black sheep to love?

Widow - No, he has 13 sisters and brothers who need a father's care.

Roderigo - That's a lot of work for one caretaker.

Gonzorgo - Fourteen children! And - (Points to house) Is this where you call the Convention to order?

Widow - Yes, Mr. Piper left us very well off. And this is our cottage. (Gonzorgo and Roderigo look at each other)

Gonzorgo (Turns to Widow) - I adore the country, don't you?

Widow - I have to.

Roderigo - Why?

Widow - Did you ever try to rent an apartment in the City with 14 children?

Gonzorgo (Tenderly) - And when the nestlings have all flown away, have you ever thought of mating once again?

Widow - Well, of course I've had my moments. Will you gentlemen enter and partake of some refreshments?

Gonzorgo & Roderigo - Will we!? We will.

Widow - I married once for money. If I wed again, it will have to be an artist, a poet, or a hero.

Roderigo - I'm not an expert accountant, but did you say you had 14 children?

Widow - Yes, fourteen.

Gonzorgo - Your second husband would have to be a hero. (The three exeunt into house left)

Hilda (To Tom) - I'll look for the children, Master Tom, and tell them you're going away.

Tom - Thank you, Hilda. (Hilda exits up Left. Bo Peep enters right, dejectedly) Why, sister Bo Peep, you have the saddest face I've ever seen.

Bo Peep - I missed most of the party, because I lost my sheep.

Tom - That's nothing for you to feel sheepish about - don't cry, little Bo Peep, don't cry.

SONG #2: Tom, Bo Peep, Piper children & Chorus. During the song, Jill and other Piper children enter. After number.

Tom - I've just found out why old Barnaby is paying for this party.

All - Why?

Tom - He wants everybody on hand to hear his engagement announcement.

Bo Peep - Engagement? To whom?

Tom - Contrary Mary.

Bo Peep - Oh, Mary hasn't gone and done a dreadful thing like that?

Tom - Not yet. But mother's set on the match, and is going to announce the engagement anyway. (All express anger)

Jill - Let Barnaby keep his old party! I'm going back to tidy up the stable! (Starts up L. to exit. Others stop her.)

Bo Peep - Party! He can't buy us with lemonade and chocolate eclaires, can he girls?

All - No! (Jill sits on stage down L.C.)

Tom - I hope all of you will keep out of trouble till I get back. (Starts up Right)

All - Where are you going?

Tom - Away this very hour to look for Jane!

Miss Moffett (One of the Piper children) - Do keep out of that awful forest! They say there's a veil in it filled with spiders.

Tom - I will, Little Miss Moffett, no spiders for you eh? I know how tough it was on the tuffet.

Miss Moffett - (Shuddering) I don't like to see spiders. When you've seen one of them you've seen them all.

Tom - Well I'm off on my hunt for Jane. Who'll go as far as the turn of the road with me? (Starts up right)

All - All of us!

(HILDA enters from house left, with small package in hand)

Hilda - Wait, Master Tom, you mustn't go around the world hungry. Here's a box of sandwiches with jelly and pickle.

Tom - Thank you, Hilda. And good-bye! Come along, boys and girls. (Exits with ALL except HILDA and Jill)

Hilda - (Waving to Tom) Goodbye! Goodbye! Just think, he's leaving his native home land. He'll be like a man without a country. What can be worse than that!

Jill - Nothing "except a country without a man".

Hilda - He's going around the world to find his sweetheart. (JANE ENTERS up L. in gypsy boy's costume)

Jill - And everybody knows that Jane is under the ocean.

Jane - Everybody except Jane!

Hilda - You? It isn't you, is it?

Jane - Hilda, it simply can't be anybody else!

Hilda - (Embracing her) Where's Alan?

Jane - He stopped to pin up a tear in his skirt.

Jill - Skirt?

Jane - After the shipwreck, our clothes were in tatters-- but we met a band of gypsies that gave us what clothing they could spare. And we had to arrange it thus. (Indicates costume)

Hilda - (Pointing off L.) And here's Alan, a regular gypsy!

(ALAN enters dressed as a gypsy girl with tambourine swinging from waist.)

Alan - Hilda and Jill! Would you know me?

Hilda - Never, Alan, if I hadn't been told.

Alan - I am Floretta - until further notice--Floretta, the Fawn of the Forest. (Pirouettes)

Jane - (To Hilda) How is our Uncle Barnaby?

Jill - (At C) Your Uncle Barnaby is well.

Alan - (Eagerly) And Contrary Mary?

Hilda - (With meaning) Still waiting for a certain young man to come back from being drowned.

Jane - Where's Tom Tom?

Hilda - (Goes up R) Just started to find you. Quick! If he hasn't gone too far, we can catch him! (Points off R)

Jane - Don't go away, Alan, and look out for the Widow Piper. Remember you're not too popular, with Mary's mother. Hilda and Jill, let's hurry! (HILDA, JILL & JANE EXEUNT quickly up right)

(THE WIDOW PIPER enters from house)

Alan - Ah. here you are now!...I mean, do you want your palm read?

Widow - A gypsy! Yes I will have my fortune told. Can you tell fortunes?

Alan - Better than an income tax collector. I peek into the future at 25 cents a peek. (WIDOW gives Alan money)

Widow - There, peek for me!

Alan - (Looks at her hand) Your name is Piper! You've had an unfortunate marriage.

Widow - Can you tell that by the lines in my hand?

Alan - No, by the lines under your eyes. Your husband is dead. He was not very handsome, he had A. & P. eyes. One eye faced the Atlantic and one eye faced the Pacific. You have a daughter named Mary. She should marry a young man whose name begins with A. He has a lovely character, is charming, gifted and attractive.

Widow - If you're talking about a wretched, no-account young fool named Alan, you're all wrong.

Alan - No, I am -- that is he is -a character every one could love. I'd even love him myself,-- that is, if I knew him.

Widow - I don't think this is such a very good reading.

Alan - I could do better with tea leaves....if you could bring me a cup of tea....and perhaps some hot biscuits...I also read the future by hot buttered biscuits.

Widow - Go ahead, Gypsy, and tell me more about myself. (Gonzorgo enters from house.)

I have two suitors - which shall I marry?

Alan - I must see them first. (Widow points to Gonzorgo)

Widow - There is one!

Alan - Well, if that is one, I'd advise you to take the other.

Gonzorgo - What have we here, a gypsy?

Widow - Yes. Let her read your hand.

Gonzorgo - (To Alan) I give you my hand, to find out if she- (Indicating widow) Will give me her hand.

Alan - But first you must take off your glove.

Gonzorgo - I'm not wearing gloves, my hands are sunburned.

Alan - (Examining his hand) Yes, expecially the palms. (Looks in hand) Oh, I can't go on! After you've had your hands read will your face be red!

Gonzorgo - I know you see there a mad love and devotion.

Alan - Yes, I can see you returning home at night and this lady with her fourteen children, waiting to greet you on the front porch.

Gonzorgo - Yes...

Alan - Yes, and your present wife and triplets waiting for you on the back porch!

Widow - Gonzorgo! You! You are married?

Gonzorgo - Well, yes, and no!

Widow - Make up your mind!

Alan - He has a wife. And his wife's feet are always so tired, her toes want to turn in!

Gonzorgo - It's false. (To Widow) Dost doubt Gonzorgo?

Widow - I dost.

Alan - (To Gonzorgo) She dosts, and the sooner you dust the better.

Widow - (To Alan) You don't know what a service you've done me, you've torn the mask from his face. Thank you so much, thank you so much, Floretta, the Fawn! (EXITS INTO HOUSE)

Gonzorgo - (Turning to Alan) So, you are the Fawn! --Well, there goes my deer and my doe! You are a gypsy with the accent on the gyp. (EXITS into house)

Alan - Not bad, for the Fawn of the forest. (Pirouettes)

(HILDA & JANE enter up R)

Jane - (To Alan) We couldn't find Tom Tom.

Hilda - If you need any clothes the children have plenty to spare. (Female chorus begins to enters)

(JANE remains on)

Alan - (to Hilda) Get me some boys togs. I feel it would be well for Floretta to vanish. (HILDA EXITS into house L.)

1st Girl - A gypsy!

2nd Girl - Perhaps a fortune-teller!

1st Girl - Do you tell fortunes?

Alan - Do I? It was destined by the stars that I was to be a fortune- teller. My father was born under the sign of the crab, and I was born under the sign of the bull. I can tell you everything except the size of the National debt.

SONG: #3. "FLORETTA" (ALAN and singing CHORUS all exeunt after song)

(EIGHT DANDIES enter right.)

1st Dandy - I don't see anything of her anywhere.

2nd Dandy - Contrary Mary always works at her garden at this house. (HILDA enters from house)

1st Dandy - Is Miss Mary at home?

Hilda - No, she's at school. She's taking a course in domestic silence.

2nd Dandy - You mean domestic science.

Hilda - No, she's going to cooking school.

1st Dandy - We merely dropped in to inquire about her garden.

Hilda - It's doing very well, thank you.

(BO PEEP and other piper children enter)

Bo Peep - Oh, look, aren't you Mary's Beaux?

All - We are!

Hilda - There's quite a crowd to see Mary.

(MARY enters)

Mary - And I just love crowds!

All the Beaux - Mary!

Mary - I'm glad to see you all collectively. Won't you make yourselves at home?

1st Beau - Mary, is it true that you are going to marry?

Mary - Of course I'm going to marry....

All - Oh!

Mary - That is - some day! I don't know when or to whom!

2nd Beau - Can't you make a choice now?

1st Beau - Yes, each one of us is proposing to you.

Mary - I'll consider your offer. But here's what I expect from the man I could really love.

SONG: #4. (Cho. of Dandies and Children, and Dance)

(All exeunt on number except MARY. Enter BARNABY up right with large bouquet.)

Barnaby - (Tendering bouquet) Here, pretty one, is a bunch of pretty blosoms, and I only wish they were as pretty as you.

Mary - (Takes bouquet indifferently) Thank you.

Barnaby - I've hidden a tender little note in that bouquet. I'll go away and let it speak for me. (Goes R)

Mary - Oh, say it yourelf, and have it over with!

Barnaby - (Pulling bench on R) Sit down. (They sit on bench) Don't be cruel, Mary. Won't you marry me? (Takes her hand) I know the bloom is no longer on my cheek---

Mary - (Withdrawing hand) Pardon me, but there's nothing wrong with your cheek.

Barnaby - (Angrily, rises) You may be treating me this way in the hopes that Alan will come back and marry you. Take my word for it, you'll never see him again.

Mary - (Throws bouquet away) How I wish I could say the same of you. (GONZORGO and RODERIGO enter from house)

Barnaby - Here's proof! The very men in whose tender care I placed my niece and nephew. Now do you believe me?

Mary - I'll neither believe you nor marry you! (Starts toward house) Not if you were the last man on earth! Not if you gave me steam yachts - castles, or the richest jewelry. My foot is down! That foot -- the other foot -- both feet! (Exits into house)

Gonzorgo - Well, are you ready to settle with your silent partners?

Barnaby - I don't understand you.

Gonzorgo - (To him) You can hear us, even if we are your silent partners. And here's what we want to broadcast to you. How about our contract to get rid of your niece and nephew?

Barnaby - What have you done with Jane and Alan?

Gonzorgo - They are now playing harps with Saint Pete and his golden Gaters. (Roderigo sobs) We chartered an old dilapidated schooner and we lured Alan and Jane on board, we told them it was the show boat. (Roderigo sobs) The boat was an old dilapidated wreck that we christened "Static". We knew the schooner would soon be under the foam. (Roderigo sobs) The weather bureau said it would be clear weather but we knew they were wrong as usual. Soon it began to rain - it rained cats and dogs, - I know because I stepped in several poodles. (Roderigo sobs) We knew if the storm struck -- the waves would strike -- and the crew would go on a sit-down strike. Well, IT did - - they did -- and we did. Down went the hull of the Ship. (Roderigo sobs)

Roderigo - You mean the whole of the ship.

Gonzorgo - Hull or whole- what is a little pronunciation among friends? The ship sank! And everyone but us two are now sleeping on the ocean bed with oysters as pillows. (Barnaby suddenly begins to sob) What are you crying for?

Barnaby - I've seen the last of my little charges.

Gonzorgo - And now you'll see the first of ours. (Presents bills)

Barnaby - A bill?

Gonzorgo - My little charges for disposing of your little charges. (Hands bill to Barnaby)

Barnaby - (Reading it) 500 dollars!?

Roderigo - For scuttling one ship.

Barnaby - What part of it did you do?

Roderigo - I was 1st vice-president in charge of the scuttle department.

Barnaby - Follow me down to my office, I am the manager of the T.C.N.P.U. --Finance Company. There is much money in my vault.

Gonzorgo - The T.C.N.P.U. finance company? What does the T.C.N.P.U. stand for?

Barnaby - They Can Never Pay Up! (All three exeunt right)

(JANE & ALAN enter in school children's dress, from house.)

Alan - Remember Jane, when we meet Mary, two is company, and three - is a conference.

Jane - Don't worry. I know when I'm not wanted. (Sees bouquet left by Barnaby. Picks it up) What a pretty bouquet! (Sniffs at it) M'm. How sweet! (Hands it to Alan)

Alan - (Sniffing bouquet) Wonder where it came from. What's this? (Takes card from heart of bouquet) A card. (Glances at it)

Jane - What is it?

Alan - (Throws bouquet away angrily, reads card) "To darling Mary". "From her future husband."

Jane - Oh, Alan! In your absence have you been jilted?

Alan - I'll never speak to her again!

Mary - (Backing in from house and calling off) I won't dress for the party, I won't! I won't!

Alan - (Signals to Jane, who exits) (Mary turns sees Alan)

Mary - Alan!

Alan - Oh Mary! (With a sudden change of manner) How do you do, Miss Piper?

Mary - (Stiffly) Very well, thank you. Don't you think we need rain?

Alan - Yes--a change. Some people can't get along with change. (Pointing to bench) Won't you sit down?

Mary - Thank you. (They sit stiffly)

Alan - I haven't seen you for some time.

Mary - You've been away, haven't you?

Alan - Have you really noticed it?

Mary - It just occurred to me.

Alan - It's a warm day.

Mary - What?

Alan - Chilly, isn't it?

Mary - Very. (Archly) I think I need something around me. (Repeats louder) I think I need something around me.

Alan - (Coldly) I heard what you said. (Slides to other end of bench)

Mary - Alan, I don't understand such behavior.

Alan - Better ask your future husband to explain it!

Mary - My future husband? Who is he?

Alan - Who is he? Is this a guessing contest?

Mary - What do you mean? (Rises - going L.C.)

Alan - You're somebody's darling, an old man's darling, perhaps a nice lovely old man with millions!

Mary - Oh, don't you think you're smart?

Alan - There's my reason. (Shows card he has taken from bouquet)

Mary - It isn't so! I don't know who wrote this, and you're just horrid to believe it!

Alan - I've got to believe my eyes.

Mary - You believe your eyes before you believe me? Then I've found you out in time. You never loved me--and--don't you dare to ever speak to me again!

Alan - Good-bye, forever!

Mary - Good-bye, forever! (Neither moves)

Alan - I heard what you said.

Mary - Oh, did you? Well, this time it is goodbye forever! And when I say forever I mean definitely! Goodbye! (Looks at Alan, exits into house.)

(JANE enters up L.)

Jane - What did Mary do to you, Alan?

Alan - She didn't do anything to me, but she loves somebody else. I'm going to take my part of the fortune Uncle Barnaby is keeping for us, and go far far away!

Jane - I'll get my money from him too, and I'll go with you.

Alan - Where?

Jane - I don't know, don't you?

Alan - Let's get a map and stick a pin in it, and whever the pin sticks, we'll go!

Jane - I've got a pin. (Producing one)

Alan - I have one too. (Produces another)

(BARNABY enters right; sees them, is startled)

Barnaby - What is this--why--?

Jane - We're glad to see you.

Alan - And we want our money.

Barnaby - (Recoiling) Ghosts, they can't be alive, ghosts!! Take them away!

Alan - Will you pay us our money?

Barnaby - No, no, you are dead. Go away! Ghosts!

Alan - We'll show you how alive we are. Present arms! (He and Jane draw pins.) Attack! (They start after Barnaby with pins and he runs in terror and exits)

(As they chase him off Black Out)

(As in original or Alan & Jane remain on as Barnaby rushes off)

Jane - We almost stuck him for the money. Are you still going to travel?

Alan - Yes. Although we'll be homeless rovers on the highway.

They sing - We're too little trailers

Trailing around

And no parking space any place have we found.

Without any definite home.

We're two birds of passage -

Where can we light?

And where is the nest - we can rest for the night?

But it's all right wherever we're bound

Two trailers just trailing around.

(lights dimmer down on them and Change to Scene II)

 

Good Reading: "La vita del mie amor non è ’l cor mio" by Michelangelo Buonarroti (in Italian)

 La vita del mie amor non è ’l cor mio,
c’amor di quel ch’i’ t’amo è senza core;
dov’è cosa mortal, piena d’errore,
esser non può già ma’, nè pensier rio.
  Amor nel dipartir l’alma da Dio
me fe’ san occhio e te luc’ e splendore;
nè può non rivederlo in quel che more
di te, per nostro mal, mie gran desio.
  Come dal foco el caldo, esser diviso
non può dal bell’etterno ogni mie stima,
ch’exalta, ond’ella vien, chi più ’l somiglia.
  Poi che negli occhi ha’ tutto ’l paradiso,
per ritornar là dov’i’ t’ama’ prima,
ricorro ardendo sott’alle tuo ciglia.

Tuesday's Serial: “Lavengro” by George Borrow (in English) - XVII

 

Chapter 33

dine with the publisher—religions—no animal food—unprofitable discussions—principles of criticism—the book market—newgate lives—goethe—german acquirements—moral dignity

 

On the Sunday I was punctual to my appointment to dine with the publisher. As I hurried along the square in which his house stood, my thoughts were fixed so intently on the great man, that I passed by him without seeing him. He had observed me, however, and joined me just as I was about to knock at the door. 'Let us take a turn in the square,' said he, 'we shall not dine for half an hour.'

'Well,' said he, as we were walking in the square, 'what have you been doing since I last saw you?'

'I have been looking about London,' said I, 'and I have bought the Dairyman's Daughter; here it is.'

'Pray put it up,' said the publisher; 'I don't want to look at such trash. Well, do you think you could write anything like it?'

'I do not,' said I.

'How is that?' said the publisher, looking at me.

'Because,' said I, 'the man who wrote it seems to be perfectly well acquainted with his subject; and, moreover, to write from the heart.'

'By the subject you mean—'

'Religion.'

'And ain't you acquainted with religion?'

'Very little.'

'I am sorry for that,' said the publisher seriously, 'for he who sets up for an author ought to be acquainted not only with religion, but religions, and indeed with all subjects, like my good friend in the country. It is well that I have changed my mind about the Dairyman's Daughter, or I really don't know whom I could apply to on the subject at the present moment, unless to himself; and after all I question whether his style is exactly suited for an evangelical novel.'

'Then you do not wish for an imitation of the Dairyman's Daughter?'

'I do not, sir; I have changed my mind, as I told you before; I wish to employ you in another line, but will communicate to you my intentions after dinner.'

At dinner, beside the publisher and myself, were present his wife and son with his newly-married bride; the wife appeared a quiet respectable woman, and the young people looked very happy and good-natured; not so the publisher, who occasionally eyed both with contempt and dislike. Connected with this dinner there was one thing remarkable; the publisher took no animal food, but contented himself with feeding voraciously on rice and vegetables prepared in various ways.

'You eat no animal food, sir?' said I.

'I do not, sir,' said he; 'I have forsworn it upwards of twenty years. In one respect, sir, I am a Brahmin. I abhor taking away life—the brutes have as much right to live as ourselves.'

'But,' said I, 'if the brutes were not killed, there would be such a superabundance of them that the land would be overrun with them.'

'I do not think so, sir; few are killed in India, and yet there is plenty of room.'

'But,' said I, 'Nature intended that they should be destroyed, and the brutes themselves prey upon one another, and it is well for themselves and the world that they do so. What would be the state of things if every insect, bird, and worm were left to perish of old age?'

'We will change the subject,' said the publisher; 'I have never been a friend of unprofitable discussions.'

I looked at the publisher with some surprise, I had not been accustomed to be spoken to so magisterially; his countenance was dressed in a portentous frown, and his eye looked more sinister than ever; at that moment he put me in mind of some of those despots of whom I had read in the history of Morocco, whose word was law. He merely wants power, thought I to myself, to be a regular Muley Mehemet; and then I sighed, for I remembered how very much I was in the power of that man.

The dinner over, the publisher nodded to his wife, who departed, followed by her daughter-in-law. The son looked as if he would willingly have attended them; he, however, remained seated; and, a small decanter of wine being placed on the table, the publisher filled two glasses, one of which he handed to myself, and the other to his son; saying, 'Suppose you two drink to the success of the Review. I would join you,' said he, addressing himself to me, 'but I drink no wine; if I am a Brahmin with respect to meat, I am a Mahometan with respect to wine.'

So the son and I drank success to the Review, and then the young man asked me various questions; for example—How I liked London?—Whether I did not think it a very fine place?—Whether I was at the play the night before?—and whether I was in the park that afternoon? He seemed preparing to ask me some more questions; but, receiving a furious look from his father, he became silent, filled himself a glass of wine, drank it off, looked at the table for about a minute, then got up, pushed back his chair, made me a bow, and left the room.

'Is that young gentleman, sir,' said I, 'well versed in the principles of criticism?'

'He is not, sir,' said the publisher; 'and if I place him at the head of the Review ostensibly, I do it merely in the hope of procuring him a maintenance; of the principle of a thing he knows nothing, except that the principle of bread is wheat, and that the principle of that wine is grape. Will you take another glass?'

I looked at the decanter; but, not feeling altogether so sure as the publisher's son with respect to the principle of what it contained, I declined taking any more.

'No, sir,' said the publisher, adjusting himself in his chair, 'he knows nothing about criticism, and will have nothing more to do with the reviewals than carrying about the books to those who have to review them; the real conductor of the Review will be a widely different person, to whom I will, when convenient, introduce you. And now we will talk of the matter which we touched upon before dinner: I told you then that I had changed my mind with respect to you; I have been considering the state of the market, sir, the book market, and I have come to the conclusion that, though you might be profitably employed upon evangelical novels, you could earn more money for me, sir, and consequently for yourself, by a compilation of Newgate lives and trials.'

'Newgate lives and trials!'

'Yes, sir,' said the publisher, 'Newgate lives and trials; and now, sir, I will briefly state to you the services which I expect you to perform, and the terms which I am willing to grant. I expect you, sir, to compile six volumes of Newgate lives and trials, each volume to contain by no manner of means less than one thousand pages; the remuneration which you will receive when the work is completed will be fifty pounds, which is likewise intended to cover any expenses you may incur in procuring books, papers, and manuscripts necessary for the compilation. Such will be one of your employments, sir,—such the terms. In the second place, you will be expected to make yourself useful in the Review—generally useful, sir—doing whatever is required of you; for it is not customary, at least with me, to permit writers, especially young writers, to choose their subjects. In these two departments, sir, namely compilation and reviewing, I had yesterday, after due consideration, determined upon employing you. I had intended to employ you no farther, sir—at least for the present; but, sir, this morning I received a letter from my valued friend in the country, in which he speaks in terms of strong admiration (I don't overstate) of your German acquirements. Sir, he says that it would be a thousand pities if your knowledge of the German language should be lost to the world, or even permitted to sleep, and he entreats me to think of some plan by which it may be turned to account. Sir, I am at all times willing, if possible, to oblige my worthy friend, and likewise to encourage merit and talent; I have, therefore, determined to employ you in German.'

'Sir,' said I, rubbing my hands, 'you are very kind, and so is our mutual friend; I shall be happy to make myself useful in German; and if you think a good translation from Goethe—his Sorrows for example, or more particularly his Faust—'

'Sir,' said the publisher, 'Goethe is a drug; his Sorrows are a drug, so is his Faustus, more especially the last, since that fool —— rendered him into English. No, sir, I do not want you to translate Goethe or anything belonging to him; nor do I want you to translate anything from the German; what I want you to do, is to translate into German. I am willing to encourage merit, sir; and, as my good friend in his last letter has spoken very highly of your German acquirements, I have determined that you shall translate my book of philosophy into German.'

'Your book of philosophy into German, sir?'

'Yes, sir; my book of philosophy into German. I am not a drug, sir, in Germany as Goethe is here, no more is my book. I intend to print the translation at Leipzig, sir; and if it turns out a profitable speculation, as I make no doubt it will, provided the translation be well executed, I will make you some remuneration. Sir, your remuneration will be determined by the success of your translation.'

'But, sir—'

'Sir,' said the publisher, interrupting me, 'you have heard my intentions; I consider that you ought to feel yourself highly gratified by my intentions towards you; it is not frequently that I deal with a writer, especially a young writer, as I have done with you. And now, sir, permit me to inform you that I wish to be alone. This is Sunday afternoon, sir; I never go to church, but I am in the habit of spending part of every Sunday afternoon alone—profitably I hope, sir—in musing on the magnificence of nature and the moral dignity of man.'

 

 

Chapter 34

two volumes—editor—quintilian—loose money

 

'What can't be cured must be endured,' and 'it is hard to kick against the pricks.'

At the period to which I have brought my history, I bethought me of the proverbs with which I have headed this chapter, and determined to act up to their spirit. I determined not to fly in the face of the publisher, and to bear—what I could not cure—his arrogance and vanity. At present, at the conclusion of nearly a quarter of a century, I am glad that I came to that determination, which I did my best to carry into effect.

Two or three days after our last interview, the publisher made his appearance in my apartment; he bore two tattered volumes under his arm, which he placed on the table. 'I have brought you two volumes of lives, sir,' said he, 'which I yesterday found in my garret; you will find them of service for your compilation. As I always wish to behave liberally and encourage talent, especially youthful talent, I shall make no charge for them, though I should be justified in so doing, as you are aware that, by our agreement, you are to provide any books and materials which may be necessary. Have you been in quest of any?'

'No,' said I, 'not yet.'

'Then, sir, I would advise you to lose no time in doing so; you must visit all the bookstalls, sir, especially those in the by-streets and blind alleys. It is in such places that you will find the description of literature you are in want of. You must be up and doing, sir; it will not do for an author, especially a young author, to be idle in this town. To-night you will receive my book of philosophy, and likewise books for the Review. And, by the bye, sir, it will be as well for you to review my book of philosophy for the Review; the other reviews not having noticed it. Sir, before translating it, I wish you to review my book of philosophy for the Review.'

'I shall be happy to do my best, sir.'

'Very good, sir; I should be unreasonable to expect anything beyond a person's best. And now, sir, if you please, I will conduct you to the future editor of the Review. As you are to co-operate, sir, I deem it right to make you acquainted.'

The intended editor was a little old man, who sat in a kind of wooden pavilion in a small garden behind a house in one of the purlieus of the city, composing tunes upon a piano. The walls of the pavilion were covered with fiddles of various sizes and appearances, and a considerable portion of the floor occupied by a pile of books all of one size. The publisher introduced him to me as a gentleman scarcely less eminent in literature than in music, and me to him as an aspirant critic—a young gentleman scarcely less eminent in philosophy than in philology. The conversation consisted entirely of compliments till just before we separated, when the future editor inquired of me whether I had ever read Quintilian; and, on my replying in the negative, expressed his surprise that any gentleman should aspire to become a critic who had never read Quintilian, with the comfortable information, however, that he could supply me with a Quintilian at half-price, that is, a translation made by himself some years previously, of which he had, pointing to the heap on the floor, still a few copies remaining unsold. For some reason or other, perhaps a poor one, I did not purchase the editor's translation of Quintilian.

'Sir,' said the publisher, as we were returning from our visit to the editor, 'you did right in not purchasing a drug. I am not prepared, sir, to say that Quintilian is a drug, never having seen him; but I am prepared to say that man's translation is a drug, judging from the heap of rubbish on the floor; besides, sir, you will want any loose money you may have to purchase the description of literature which is required for your compilation.'

The publisher presently paused before the entrance of a very forlorn-looking street. 'Sir,' said he, after looking down it with attention, 'I should not wonder if in that street you find works connected with the description of literature which is required for your compilation. It is in streets of this description, sir, and blind alleys, where such works are to be found. You had better search that street, sir, whilst I continue my way.'

I searched the street to which the publisher had pointed, and, in the course of the three succeeding days, many others of a similar kind. I did not find the description of literature alluded to by the publisher to be a drug, but, on the contrary, both scarce and dear. I had expended much more than my loose money long before I could procure materials even for the first volume of my compilation.

Monday's Illustrated Word: untitled story by unknown writer (in English)

 art by Kin Platt - Startling Comics vol.4 #2(#11) - Pines, November 1941.