Part 6 (1/2)
We displayed the calico signpost at the front of the inn, and at the appointed hour in the evening we had a crowded audience in the room. I must give my comrade Spencer more credit than myself for the ”show;” for he would have two strings to his bow. While he and I were entering the place, he picked up a black cat belonging to some poor neighbour, and quickly stowed it away in one of his capacious pockets. The cat will appear later. As John put p.u.s.s.y away, he said, ”If t'War Pig doesn't satisfy 'em, I'll show 'em something else.” We commenced the performance.
I brought the pig out of the box, and exhibited the animal on a small table in the middle of the room. The audience was on the tiptoe of expectation, and crowded towards the table to see the famous war pig, which, after its long confinement, and also, of course, from its natural condition, was hardly able to stand. In a few words I introduced the war pig-”Ladies and gentlemen,-In opening the performance this evening, I have to show you the famous war pig from South America,” &c., &c.
THE COBBLER'S DISCOVERY
There was an old fellow at the back of the room wearing a leather ap.r.o.n and red cap, with his blue s.h.i.+rt sleeves rolled up-a typical old cobbler.
He pushed up to the table, and, after ”eyeing” the ”exhibit” somewhat critically through his spectacles, he held forth as follows:-”Nah, dus ta call thet a war pig?” in the vernacular peculiar to the natives. I said, ”Did ta ivver see a war pig i' thi life?” ”Noa,” said he blankly ”it's t'
_warst_ pig I ivver set mi een on.” And then the audience saw where the ”war” pig came in, and they laughed heartily over the joke. It was a relief to me when they did put the best face on the affair. Under cover of the diversion I stole from the room, and prepared to leave the place.
I met Mrs Stangcliffe at the foot of the staircase. She said ”she did not know what to think about us, but there had been a fearful noise, and she took it that we had pleased the company.” With this I left the inn, and got away to a place where I had arranged to wait for Spencer.
TIPPO-SAHIB-THE INDIAN CAT
Yes; you will be wondering what has become of Spencer. Well; he stayed behind to continue the show. As he told me afterwards, he appeared before the screen and said, ”Ladies and Gentlemen,-You don't seem to be quite satisfied with the war pig from South America. I can a.s.sure you that I have here a cat which I brought from India; they call her Tippo-Sahib.
She can tell fortunes. Tippo has told the fortunes of all the Indian kings and princes, and I have brought her here expressly to tell the ladies present their fortunes. Now, Tippo (introducing the Haworth-bred cat to the audience), walk round the room and tell the ladies their fortunes.” Puss had no sooner been liberated than she bounded out at the open door. Spencer said hastily, ”I believe the climate of England is too cold for Tippo; but I'll fetch her back.” Upon this he darted out of the door, and down the stairs after the scared cat; and this was the way Spencer effected his escape. Of course, the audience tumbled to it that the whole concern was a swindle, but they ”bore up” well, and even seemed satisfied with the swindle, for they had many good laughs out of it.
Spencer joined me on the road just out of Haworth, and together we returned to Keighley.
AT HAWORTH AGAIN-FUNNY STORIES
As I remarked in the earlier part of the above incident, I had on a former occasion figured in the large room attached to the Fleece Inn.
This occasion turned out a kind of ”slope,” though not so bad a one as that already described. There happened to be staying in Keighley Wild's Theatre, and John Spencer and I thought we could manage a bit of ”business” at Haworth. So we borrowed two costumes. Mine was a monkey dress-a kind of skin covering for the whole body-which I had lent to me by ”Billy Shanteney.” Spencer obtained the loan of a clown's dress. At this time there was a drummer who lived in Wellington-street. He was well known to Keighley folk as ”Old Bill Heblett.” Bill used to march the streets in company with bands of music, and caused some amount of wonder and amazement by throwing his drum-sticks into the air and catching them between the beats. On this occasion we induced Heblett to lend us his famed drum; so that with a monkey's and a clown's costumes, and a drum, we were in a fair way of business. We had intended that the show should consist of Spencer lifting heavy weights, and I was to amuse the audience with jokes and funny stories. We went up to Haworth, engaged the rooms from Mrs Stangcliffe, and borrowed the landlady's bed-curtains to hang across the room to form a screen and so make the place look something like a show-room. For footlights we fastened candles on the floor, placing each candle between three nails.
THE BELLMAN'S SHAKESPEARE!
Then we engaged a fiddler who went by the name of Billy Frenchman-a well-known character in Haworth at the time. Bill had been in the army for some years. In his old age he had been appointed town's herald or crier of Haworth. It was in this capacity that we engaged him to ”cry”
our show about Haworth, before we turned out on parade. Billy told us to write down what we wanted him to say, and this was our programme-”This is to give notice to the public of Haworth and the surrounding neighbourhood that a company of dramatic performers will appear tonight at the Fleece Inn Garret. The performance to commence with Shakespeare's comedy, 'Katharine and Petruchio; or, The Taming of the Shrew;' to be followed by 'Ali Pasha; or, The Mussulman's Vengeance,' and tricks by the monkey, and comic sketches.” These were the words Billy had written on his paper, but through some misunderstanding _these_ were the words I heard him cry out: he gave them in broad Haworth dialect:-”This is ta gie noatis ta t'publick o' Howarth et ther's bahn ta be sum play-acters at t'Fleece Inn Garritt, and ther bahn ta act 'Catherine fra t'Padding Can, er Who's ta tak t'screws;' ta be follered bi 'Alpaca, er t'smas.h.i.+ng up o'
t'engines.'” But Billy's blunder was perhaps for the best; for, seeing that this was about the time when hand woolcombing was on the decline, and engines were being brought out, the people had an idea that the announcement had some startling reference to their trade. Myself, I could not help but laugh heartily over this choice specimen of bellman's oratory.
BILL PLAYS THE STREET MONKEY
About 5.30 in the evening Jack put on his clown's costume, and I put on the monkey's garb, and Jack, taking the drum and leading me by a chain, paraded up the main street of Haworth. Opposite the White Lion we ”pitched,” and the customers soon came out of the public-house, and pa.s.sers-by stopped to see ”whoa we wor.” I distinctly heard one of the onlookers say that ”if it wor a real un, it wor t'biggest monkey ut he'd ivver seen.” Then a few of the folks standing together held a hurried confab., and as a result one of them announced, ”I'll tread on his tail, an' if he squeaks it'll be a reight un.” Suiting his words to action the joskin advanced and trod on the end of the monkey's tail. Of course the monkey squeaked. Jacko also turned round suddenly, and, with a horrid grin on his features, sprang on the shoulders of his intruder. The poor fellow screamed, and his first words on finding himself out of danger were ”Oh! he's a reight monkey.” Within the next few minutes another native came up, and inquired of Spencer ”Ah say-can thy monkey chew bacca?”-producing a tobacco-box, the size of which was awe-inspiring.
”Try it,” said Spencer, ”Give him the box-he's very careful.” So the big-hearted joskin handed his big tobacco-box to the monkey. I was wearing a mask, which allowed for a large mouth, and I popped the box into the ”yawning cavity.” ”By gow,” said the at-one-time owner of the box, ”What a stummack!-he's swallered t'box an all!” With such an uncomfortable article as a tobacco-box in his mouth, the monkey could not do very much in the way of performing, so the return was made to the Fleece Inn Garret. People-particularly the disappointed owner of the tobacco-box-followed us down, and by opening-time we had