Part 12 (1/2)
”It is impossible,” said Munchausen, gloomily. ”The whole point of the story depends upon its having been Jonah's whale. Under the circ.u.mstances, the only thing I can do is to sit down. I regret the narrowness of mind exhibited by my friend Jonah, but I must respect the decision of the court.”
”I must take exception to the Baron's allusion to my narrowness of mind,”
said Jonah, with some show of heat. ”I am simply defending my rights, and I intend to continue to do so if the whole world unites in considering my mind a mere slot scarcely wide enough for the insertion of a nickel. That whale was my discovery, and the personal discomfort I endured in perfecting my experience was such that I resolved to rest my reputation upon his broad proportions only--to sink or swim with him--and I cannot at this late day permit another to crowd me out of his exclusive use.”
Jonah sat down and fanned himself, and the Baron, with a look of disgust on his face, left the room.
”Up to his old tricks,” he growled as he went. ”He queers everything he goes into. If I'd known he was a member of this club I'd never have joined.”
”We do not appear to be progressing very rapidly,” said Doctor Johnson, rising. ”So far we have made two efforts to have stories told, and have met with disaster each time. I don't know but what you are to be congratulated, however, on your escape. Very few of you, I observe, have as yet fallen asleep. The next number on the programme, I see, is Boswell, who was to have entertained you with a few reminiscences; I say was to have done so, because he is not to do so.”
”I'm ready,” said Boswell, rising.
”No doubt,” retorted Johnson, severely, ”but I am not. You are a man with one subject--myself. I admit it's a good subject, but you are not the man to treat of it--here. You may suffice for mortals, but here it is different. I can speak for myself. You can go out and sit on the banks of the Vitriol Reservoir and lecture to the imps if you want to, but when it comes to reminiscences of me I'm on deck myself, and I flatter myself I remember what I said and did more accurately than you do. Therefore, gentlemen, instead of listening to Boswell at this point, you will kindly excuse him and listen to me. Ahem! When I was a boy--”
”Excuse me,” said Solomon, rising; ”about how long is this--ah--this entertaining discourse of yours to continue?”
”Until I get through,” returned Johnson, wrathfully.
”Are you aware, sir, that I am on the programme?” asked Solomon.
”I am,” said the Doctor. ”With that in mind, for the sake of our fellow- spooks who are present, I am very much inclined to keep on forever. When I was a boy--”
Carlyle rose up at this point.
”I should like to ask,” he said, mildly, ”if this is supposed to be an audience of children? I, for one, have no wish to listen to the juvenile stories of Doctor Johnson. Furthermore, I have come here particularly to- night to hear Boswell. I want to compare him with Froude. I therefore protest against--”
”There is a roof to this house-boat,” said Doctor Johnson. ”If Mr.
Carlyle will retire to the roof with Boswell I have no doubt he can be accommodated. As for Solomon's interruption, I can afford to pa.s.s that over with the silent contempt it deserves, though I may add with propriety that I consider his most famous proverbs the most absurd bits of hack-work I ever encountered; and as for that story about dividing a baby between two mothers by splitting it in two, it was grossly inhuman unless the baby was twins. When I was a boy--”
As the Doctor proceeded, Carlyle and Solomon, accompanied by the now angry Boswell, left the room, and my account of the Story-tellers' Night must perforce stop; because, though I have never heretofore confessed it, all my information concerning the house-boat on the Styx has been derived from the memoranda of Boswell. It may be interesting to the reader to learn, however, that, according to Boswell's account, the Story-tellers'
Night was never finished; but whether this means that it broke up immediately afterwards in a riot, or that Doctor Johnson is still at work detailing his reminiscences, I am not aware, and I cannot at the moment of writing ascertain, for Boswell, when I have the pleasure of meeting him, invariably avoids the subject.
CHAPTER XI: AS TO SAURIANS AND OTHERS
It was Noah who spoke.
”I'm glad,” he said, ”that when I embarked at the time of the heavy rains that did so much damage in the old days, there weren't any dogs like that fellow Cerberus about. If I'd had to feed a lot of three-headed beasts like him the Ark would have run short of provisions inside of ten days.”
”That's very likely true,” observed Mr. Barnum; ”but I must confess, my dear Noah, that you showed a lamentable lack of the showman's instinct when you selected the animals you did. A more commonplace lot of beasts were never gathered together, and while Adam is held responsible for the introduction of sin into the world, I attribute most of my offences to none other than yourself.”
The members of the club drew their chairs a little closer. The conversation had opened a trifle spicily, and, furthermore, they had retained enough of their mortality to be interested in animal stories.
Adam, who had managed to settle his back dues and delinquent house-charges, and once more acquired the privileges of the club, nodded his head gratefully at Mr. Barnum.
”I'm glad to find some one,” said he, ”who places the responsibility for trouble where it belongs. I'm round-shouldered with the blame I've had to bear. I didn't invent sin any more than I invented the telephone, and I think it's rather rough on a fellow who lived a quiet, retiring, pastoral life, minding his own business and staying home nights, to be held up to public reprobation for as long a time as I have.”
”It'll be all right in time,” said Raleigh; ”just wait--be patient, and your vindication will come. n.o.body thought much of the plays Bacon and I wrote for Shakespeare until Shakespeare 'd been dead a century.”