Part 8 (1/2)
[Ill.u.s.tration]
The second feat of hanky-panky consists in knocking your head against the edge of a door with such apparent force as to break your skull, provided it be anything under an inch thick.
This you do by holding your hand which is farthest from the audience on a level with your face, as represented in the annexed picture. At the moment your forehead touches the edge you must give the side of the door a good smart bang with the palm of your hand. To the audience on the other side of the door, who do not see this motion of the hand, you appear to have given your poor head a terrific blow.
[Ill.u.s.tration]
Another piece of hanky-panky frequently practised on the stage requires two performers. No. 1 aims a blow at the head of No. 2; No. 2, just as the blow reaches him, raises both hands as though to guard the blow, managing, however, as he does so to slap them smartly together so as to produce a loud report. If the blow and the report occur simultaneously, No. 1 will appear to have given No. 2 a most vicious box on the ear.
This is all we have to say about hanky-panky.
CHAPTER XIII.
Being in a tranquil mood the other evening, and indisposed for the rollicking fun and tomfoolery in which, we are glad to say, we have so often indulged, we called upon our friend Nix to pa.s.s a quiet hour or two. When we had explained the object of our visit, Nix replied that it was well, for although he could not entertain us himself in the character of host, he could introduce us to a family to whom he happened to be engaged himself that evening.
”They are,” said he, ”the most charming people in the world--all ladies, excepting a little pickle of a boy, a child after your own heart, by the way; not one of your impulsive, high-spirited humbugs, who does all sorts of vicious things for twelve hours, and is sorry for them for five minutes; not one of your easy penitents, who is never ashamed of owning himself in the wrong, and at the same time never too proud to do wrong; but a stubborn, sensitive, ingenuous, affectionate, fun-loving little fellow. Do you know I like people who, when they are mad, get sulky? I have found they make the best of friends, the best servants, and the best members of society generally. I wonder who started the admiration of _impulsive_ people? 'Oh!' you hear a young lady say, who never really gave the subject five minutes' thought in her life, and is quite unconscious that she is repeating a hackneyed sentiment which has been knocking about the world for the last fifty years; 'oh!' you hear her say, 'I like quick-tempered people, who get into a pa.s.sion and are over it in a minute.' Then you hear some one else: 'Oh, yes, he does wrong, but he is full of fine impulses!' For my part, I think these impulsive folks are the greatest humbugs in the world. In the first place, there is scarcely any villany which cannot be perpetrated in a moment, if you have only the necessary impulse; but then, to look into the origin of this impulsiveness, it arises altogether from a lack of self-control, a violent, self-indulgent spirit. Then, as to ready repentance and confession, that, to my mind, is the worst sign man, woman, or child can show; it simply shows they do not fully appreciate the seriousness of their offence, or are so devoid of pride that they do not care in what estimation they are held by others; or, as is often the case, it is a cheap way of squaring accounts and starting afresh, perhaps on better terms than before, with people who like _impulsive_ characters. Bah!
Confession and repentance ought to come out of a man with tears of blood, and----”
”But about the ladies?” we broke in. ”Your dissertation on character is very good, but I think you made use of the adjective charming in connection with the noun ladies.”
”Oh, yes,” answered Nix, suddenly changing his manner, for he had grown quite fierce and enthusiastic in his tirade against impulsive persons.
”The ladies--'that man who would lay his hand on a lady in aught save kindness, is unworthy the name of a British officer and a gentleman.'
”'A wife, a dog, and a walnut-tree, The more you lick 'em, the better they be.'
”Arguments _pro_ and _con_. But you said something about the ladies.
Well, this family comprises a widow, three daughters, and little pickle aforementioned. These ladies, I may tell you, are not only ladies, but gentlewomen--a very, very rare article, I can a.s.sure you.”
”True,” we responded; ”painfully true.”
”These ladies have found out--no, there I am wrong; they never gave the subject a thought. But they are ill.u.s.trations of the fact, though they are ignorant of it, for their good-breeding came to them partly by nature and partly by careful, motherly, Christian training. They are ill.u.s.trations of the fact, that to be gentlewomen it is necessary to be gentle women.”
”Women do not appear to be generally aware of that fact,” we chimed in.
”These ladies, although full of intelligence and _esprit_, besides being highly educated and accomplished, could not, I believe, give a smart retort to--to--to save their eyes; and when you see their eyes you will be able to judge of the value of the stake. If any one were to make a rude or impertinent speech to them they would not understand him. As they never wound the feelings of others, they cannot imagine any one else doing so.”
”But,” said we, ”there are certain forms of words which no one could possibly mistake--not even the simplest of human beings.”
”Oh, of course, I don't refer to such cases as those! Under such circ.u.mstances, my friends would feel deeply grieved, and even rebuke the offender. But as to making one of those sharp retorts in which underbred young women so greatly delight, why, they could no more do it than fly!”
Fortunately, at this point in Nix's harangue, we reached the door of the ladies under discussion; for be it understood that most of our conversation had occurred on our way thither.
We doubt whether it is a good plan to praise one's friends too highly before an introduction; it is calculated to produce a reaction. At least, we felt just the least shade of disappointment on being ushered into the presence of the subject of our companion's eulogy. Four plainly-dressed, oval-faced, soft-eyed ladies, seated round a large centre-table, on which were strewn water-colors, alb.u.ms, scissors, and sc.r.a.ps of paper.
”Mr. Nix has told us all so much about you,” said the eldest, ”that I feel as though we were old friends. My daughters are now enthusiastic on the subject of transparencies, and I've no doubt your ingenuity will enable them to solve many knotty points beyond their amateur capacity.”
We soon found, however, that we were the one to learn, for the work on which the white fingers were engaged was something entirely new to us.