While the majority, lying upon their sides, and propped on one elbow, are calmly inhaling their dose, a few appear to have had enough. These lie with their heads resting upon short sections of bamboo, which serve this curious people as pillows, and move no more than dead men. The eyes of some are wide open, as in a fixed stare, while those of others are partially or wholly closed. If they have any of those heavenly visions of which we are told, they keep them to themselves; as, save in a few somniloquous mutterings, they utter no sound. The door is gently opened, and a gaunt, wild-eyed Mongolian slips stealthily in. The old man at the table merely elevates his eyes. The newcomer steps out of his sandals and, making no more noise than a cat, crosses the earthen floor of the room and creeps into a vacant bunk. The boss of this cavern of Morpheus now raises his elbows from the table, takes up a pipe and its belongings, sleepily lights one of the small alcohol lamps, and then places the whole before his customer. The old man then returns to his table and sits down. Not a word is spoken.
Thus the business of the cavern goes on, day and night, and this is all of opium-smoking that appears on the surface, tales of travellers to the contrary notwithstanding. What shapes may appear to the sleepers, or what flight their souls may take into interstellar regions, we know not. To a looker-on it is all vapid, vacuous stupefaction.
Not a few white men in Virginia City—and a few women—are opium-smokers. They visit the Chinese opium dens two or three times a week. They say that the effect is exhilarating—that it is the same as intoxication produced by drinking liquor, except that under the influence of opium a man has all his senses, and his brain is almost supernaturally bright and clear. An American told me that he had been an opium-smoker for eighteen years, and said there were about fifty persons in Virginia City who were of the initiated. In San Francisco he says there are over five hundred white opium-smokers, many women among them.
During summer, men who have for sale all manner of quack nostrums, men with all kinds of notions for sale, street-shows, beggars, singers, men with electrical-machines, apparatus for testing the strength of the lungs, and a thousand other similar things, flock to Virginia City. Of evenings, when the torches of these parties of peddlers, showmen, and quack doctors are all lighted and all are in full cry, a great fair seems to be under headway in the principal street of the town—there is a perfect Babel of cries and harangues.
The man with the electrical[electrical]-machine, for instance, leads off with:
“Who is the next gentleman who wishes to try the battery? It makes the old man feel young, and the young man feel strong. Remember, gentlemen, that a quarter of a dollar pays the bill. Try the battery! Try the battery! Bear in mind that there can be nothing applied equal to it, as it is one of nature’s own remedies. A quarter of a dollar places you in a position to have your nervous system electrified. The small sum of one quarter of a—Try the battery, sir? The small sum of one quarter of a dollar pays the whole entire bill. Who is the next man to try the battery? Try the battery! Try the battery and improve your health while you have the opportunity. Who is the next man that wishes to—Try the battery, sir? Try the battery! Try the battery! Purifies the blood, strengthens the nervous system; cures headaches, toothaches, neuralgia, and all diseases of the nervous system. Can be applied to a child six months old as well as to a full-grown person. Try the battery! Try the battery! Re-e-emember, gentlemen, that the sma-a-all and tri-i-fling sum of o-one quarter of a dollar pays the whole entire—Try the battery, sir? Try the battery! Try the battery! Can regulate the instrument to suit all constitutions. Try the battery! Re-e-member that electricity is life. It is what you, each and every one of you, require, and it is utterly impossible for you to live without it. Try the battery! Try the battery!”
The soap-root tooth-powder man next starts in with his little talk:
“Gentlemen, I have here three little articles, and I start out by telling you that they are all three humbugs. But starting out with this proposition that they are all humbugs, I only do so in order that before I get through I may [Try the battery!] disprove said proposition to your entire satisfaction. I will first show you a little article called [Try the battery! Try the battery!] the California Soap-root Tooth-powder. Years ago, gentlemen, about 75 miles northeast of Waterville, in the State of California, I saw the Indians [Try the battery!] washing their clothes with this root. I examined it and found [One quarter of a dollar pays the entire bill!] it was a wonderful production of nature, gentlemen. I found that it [Makes the old man feel young, and the young man feel strong!] grew in abundance in the mountains. I procured a quantity of it and took it to [Try the battery, sir?] San Francisco, when I began to [Try the battery!] to try [Try the battery!] experiments with it.[it.] The result was, gentlemen, that I produced this beautiful article which [Purifies the blood, strengthens the nervous system, and improves your general health!] instantly removes all stains from the teeth and [A quarter of a dollar pays the whole entire bill!] leaves the breath pure and sweet. [Try the battery!]”
The German ballad-singer now comes to the front:
“Lauterbach hab’ i mein’ Strumpf verlorn,