“Did you succeed?”
“Succeed! Why the bloated aristocrat refoozed to hev anything to say to me, and directed a servant to show me out. A pretty Republic that is, where the President won’t hear a common biznis proposishen! And then I went to the Mayor uv the city, and when my proposishen wuz translated to him, he remarked that he wuzn’t in the bear biznis, and he hed me showed out. I shood like to be a voter in Berne at one elecshun. But I shel hev the bear that killed the offiser jes the same. That is, I shel advertise that one uv the bears I yoose that eat the children in the Elijah act is the identikle one. I don’t like to deceeve the public—I hed ruther deal strate with ’em, but I must git my expenses out uv that trip to Berne somehow, and I shel hev the President’s certifikit all the same. Yes, and blast me ef I don’t add the Mayor’s to it to make ashoorence doubly shoor. I ain’t agoin’ to Berne for nothin', nor am I goin’ to lose an ijee. Ijees are too skase to waste one.”
“Did you enjoy this trip to the land of Tell?”
The sound of the word “Tell,” was sufficient to tap the old gentleman once more, and he went off into a narrative that flowed smoothly as cider from a barrel.
DE LACY’S IDEA.
“The land uv Tell! I shel never forgit Tell—Willyum, the Swiss wat shot a apple offen his boy’s head. It wuz way back in 1844, when I was runnin’ my great aggregashun in the West. We had a minstrel sideshow in the afternoon, and a regler theater for a sideshow in the evenin'. Our leadin’ man wuz Mortimer de Lacy, from the principal European and Noo York theaters—his real name was Tubbs; he wuz the son uv a ginooine Injun physician, which hed stands about the country suthin’ like a circus—who wuz very fond uv playin’ Tell. De Lacy wuz one uv the most yooseful men I ever hed. He rid the six hoss act, the “Rooshun Courier uv Moscow,” and did the stone-breakin’ act, where he bends over on his arms and hez stuns broken on his breast with sledges, and he did the cannon ball act, and in the afternoon wuz the interlocootor in the minstrel show, playin’ the triangle—anybody kin play the triangle, and he alluz sed he wood give anything ef he cood manage a banjo or even a accordeon so ez to git up in the perfesh—and in the evenin’ he did the classical in high tragedy. The afternoon minstrel show wuz for the country people, but the play in the evenin’ wuz to ketch the more refined towns folks. Well, one day De Lacy cum to me, and sez he:—
“ ‘Guvnor, I hev a idear.’
“ ‘Spit it out,’ sez I. ‘Idears is wuth money in our biznis.’
“ ‘I kin make Tell more realistic. You know the way we do the shootin’ uv the apple off the boy’s head is to shoot an arrer into the wings and the boy comes runnin’ out with a split apple in his hand.’
“ ‘Yes, that’s the way it alluz hez bin done. It’s a tradishn uv the stage.’