The spark came in the shape of an interjection from the deep chest of Uncle Dick.
But how am I to represent that interjection to posterity?
There came a pause.
“Umgh-u-m-g-h!” grunted our venerable butler. And straightway there ensued a scene which—
But future ages must first be told precisely what Uncle Dick said; for, as all Virginians, at least, know, when you limit yourself to reporting of a man that he said umgh-umgh, you have given a meagre and inadequate, certainly an ambiguous, interpretation of his sentiments.
Not to go into any refinements, it suffices to say that besides a score of other umgh-umghs of radically distinct significance, there are umgh-umghs which mean yes, and umgh-umghs which mean no. For example, “Dearest, do you love me?” Now the umgh-umgh that may be supposed in this case is a kind of flexible, india-rubber yes, ranging all the way from “Perhaps” to “Oh, most dearly!” (but Charley says that it is umgh-humgh, not umgh-umgh, that means yes;) now follow up your question with a demonstration as though you would test matters,—umgh-umgh! What a no is there! “Are you crazy? Right out here in the summer-house! with people strolling all around, and the vines so thin that—”
Now, Uncle Dick’s umgh-umgh was not at all an umgh-umgh affirmative, still less an umgh-umgh negative. ’Twas rather an umgh-umgh eulogistic, as though he said, Words are inadequate to express my feelings. Now, a less painstaking author than myself would say no more just here; aware that every Virginian, at least, knows what is meant by the umgh-umgh eulogistic; but the contemporary reader must pardon me for reminding him that this book has not been written entirely, or even mainly, for him, but rather for generations yet unborn,—notably the generations of the Whackers. I esteem it, therefore, singularly fortunate that my friend Charley happens to have made an exhaustive study of this same umgh-umgh language, and especially so that he has been at the pains of elucidating his subject by means of a musical notation. Know, then, oh, propinqui longinqui!—oh, manus innumerabiles Whackerorum!—that the exact sound uttered by that unapproachable Automedon was:
“An andante scherzando?” exclaimed my grandfather, on seeing the notation; “how is that?”
“’Tis because mine Uncle Richard hath neglected the study of thorough bass; hence he warbleth his native wood-notes wild,” quoth Charley.