The person wishing to test his skill places himself in front of it; fixing his eyes on the cork, he then walks slowly backwards ten or twelve feet, his eyes still fixed on the cork; having done which, he extends his right hand, closes an eye, and advances towards the cork, till he thinks he has reached near enough to knock the cork from its position with one blow of the finger. Nine times out of ten the performers fail, as they did on the occasion in question. This experiment seemed to afford a good excuse to a certain little witch, with black eyes, to propose the performance of pinning a thimbleful of water to the wall. The thimble was filled with water, a pin borrowed, and mademoiselle, escorted by her cavalier—a young gentleman in patent-leather boots, and breathing incense from every curl of his hair, and from every part of his dress, to a degree calculated to drive Phalon mad and ruin the reputation of Arabia. Escorted by this exquisite being, the young lady repaired to the spot selected for the experiment; but, alas! just as she was about to fix the thimble to the wall the pin dropped to the floor. In an instant the perfumed gallant was on his knees searching for the lost article, and with equal promptitude the treacherous belle had emptied the water on his fragrant pate, amid the roars of laughter of those around—for in this consisted the trick.
While we were still laughing the door opened, and Nix entered, somewhat flushed, and with a comical frown on his brow.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he began, "I have a serious complaint to make—really it is too bad. Upon my life it is. I think Miss Mary Fenn and Miss Julia Farley, and several of the other young ladies, ought to be spoken to" (the ladies mentioned and several others here colored up and looked rather scared). "I think they ought to be very seriously spoken to, going round in this reckless way. Why, upon my life, there's no knowing what may happen—and they don't care one bit. They care no more for a fellow-creature than I do for a fly. Ah! (with a sigh) there is one feller-creature which I wish they would think a little more of. In common honesty they ought to do something to their eyes—wear spectacles, or something of that sort; and for their lips, since nature has seen fit not to provide them with moustaches, they might use respirators or—or—or—well, something has to be done, or there won't be a sane man in the neighborhood. I myself have a severe pain in my left side; and here, when I go outside—I don't mean the left side, but outside the room—for a little temporary relief, I find a poor fellow maimed, probably for life—his head completely turned."
At this point a figure resembling the opposite sketch walks in, and declares that he would not have his head turned back for the world; on the contrary, he finds his present position far more comfortable than any other, etc., etc., etc.
The construction of this figure is so simple that it seems almost superfluous to explain it. The person performing it puts on a loose coat and vest, wrong side foremost, fastens a false face to the back of his head, and a wig over his face, and the whole is complete. The wig may be made of curled hair from an old mattress, sewed on to a black silk cap. By the way, while we are on the subject, we may as well say a word or two more concerning this curled hair, which will be found very useful for amateur theatricals. With a handful of this cheap material (the imitation or grass substitute will answer just as well), you can make beards, whiskers, and moustaches of any desired shape. All that is required is to twist, stretch, or mould the tangled mass into the desired shape, and then, in the proper place, stick on a small piece of diachylon, and the appendage is ready for use. The diachylon can be purchased in lump form of any druggist. In order to adhere it to the face, it should be slightly warmed before the fire.
"Why, bless my soul alive, if the poor fellow's head isn't turned!" exclaimed Aunty Delluvian, in unfeigned surprise. "Well, some foolish fellows do get their heads turned by the girls," and the good old lady laughed heartily, honestly believing she had made a joke. Indeed, she patted us on the knee to draw our attention, as she added, in an explanatory way: