THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF NORTH CAROLINA AT CHAPEL HILL ENDOWED BY THE DIALECTIC AND PHILANTHROPIC SOCIETIES PS1689 .F8 H96 1891 This book is due at the WALTER R. DAVIS LIBRARY on the last date stamped under "Date Due." If not on hold it may be renewed by bringing it to the library. DATE DUE RET. DATE DUE RET. Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2014* https://archive.org/details/hypnotictalesothOOford HYPNOTIC TALES. " < I hear our Landlord coming in to replenish the fire. ' " HYPNOTIC TALES OTHER TALES JAMES L. FORD illustrated by C. JAY TAYLOR, F. OPPER, S. B. GRIFFIN, L. DALRYMPLE PUCK keppler &. schwarzmann New York Copyright, 1891, bv Keppler & Schwarzmann. The power of Thought — the magic of the Mind." The Corsair. BYRON. CONTENTS. HYPNOTIC TALES: {Illustrated by C. Jay Taylor.) Page. Introduction ! The Landlord's Tale 7 The Fiddler's Tale I5 The Spiritualist's Tale 25 The Detective's Tale 37 The Boston Girl's Tale 47 The Representative Business Man's Tale . 57 The Rich Presbyterian's Tale 69 The Genial's Tale 79 The Chaperon's Tale 91 The School-boy's Tale 103 (Illustrated by F. OpJ>er, C. Jay Taylor, OTHER TALES : S. B. Griffin, L. Dalrymple.) The Bunco-Steerer's Christmas 113 Aladdin 119 John Coppertug's Fall 129 The Assemblyman's Bride 147 The Deserted House 155 Two Old Crones 161 'Lish' Pogram's Thanksgiving Hog 167 Beanville Journalism 173 The Stockbroker's Christmas Gift 179 In the "400" and Out 183 The Evolution of the Humorist 187 The Curiosities' Christmas 195 At the Chromo-Literary Reception 201 The Master Thief 209 An Undiplomatic Diary 215 INTRODUCTION. INTRODUCTION. It was the last day of their sojourn in the mountains, 1 where, for nearly two months, the queerly assorted company had dwelt together in a state of peace and harmony which would have been impossible if they had been carefully selected with a view to pleasing one another. And as they gathered in a large half circle about the open wood-fire, they spoke regretfully of the fact that their holiday was over, and that the next day would see them scattered in different directions. The Rich Presbyterian was going back to New York; the School-Boy was due at his boarding-school ; the Fiddler had an engagement to play in Chicago; the Boston Girl was invited to Lenox ; and as for the Detective, nobody knew in what direction his mysterious duties might lead him. To-night a new guest had joined the company — an elderly man of scholarly aspect, with a long, snow- white beard. The company had not been seated long beside the 2 HYPNOTIC TALES. fire when the conversation turned on some of the recent discoveries in science, and it was noticed that when these topics were touched upon, the stranger with the white beard brightened up, and took part in the talk. Then the Spiritualist led them all off into the realms of second sight, spirit rappings, and other tenets of his queer faith, and waxed positively eloquent as he de- scribed various mysterious experiences which he had undergone. "There 's nothing more wonderful on earth," he exclaimed, fervently, "than the things that our mediums are doing every day right here in this country. Talk about the old Bible miracles ! they 're not a marker on what 's going on in Fourteenth Street at our weekly seances." "I can tell you of something more wonderful than that," said the white-bearded stranger, quietly, but with a note of confidence in his voice, which, taken in con- nection with his venerable appearance, riveted the atten- tion of the company instantly. Besides, the Spiritualist had mounted his hobby, and they had all had quite enough of each other's hobbies for one Summer. "And what do you know that is more wonderful than the manifestations of spiritualism ? " asked the apostle of that belief, incredulously, and somewhat ag- gressively. "Hypnotism," replied the stranger. " I 've heard of that ! " exclaimed the Boston Girl, with sudden interest. "It's going to be all the rage in Boston this season, and would have been last, if we INTRODUCTION. 3 had n't had our hands full with Buddha and Ibsen. Do tell us something about hypnotism. It must be awfully interesting." "I have made a study of it for some years, and am only now beginning to comprehend its possibilities as a great and wonderful science. " "But what can you do with the aid of hypnotism?" asked the Poet. "A great many things. For example, I can hyp- notize a company of people, so that they will all speak exactly what is in their minds, and by their conversation disclose the very innermost workings of their hearts. You have doubtless amused yourselves, this Summer, by telling tales founded on your own peculiar experiences, and very pretty stories some of them were, too, I dare- say. Now, if I were to hypnotize each story-teller, he would prove infinitely more entertaining than ever be- fore, because he would speak the truth without affecta- tion or reserve." " How very delightful ! " exclaimed the Boston Girl, leaning forward eagerly. "Does it hurt much to have it done to you?" demanded the School-Boy. "No," rejoined the Scientist; "it does not hurt at all. On the contrary, I have been led to believe that the sensation of being hypnotized is, if anything, rather an agreeable one, and certainly I have never known any one of the hundreds whom I have subjected to the pro- cess to make any complaint whatever of it. The subject is seized with a desire to talk about himself ; and, with HYPNOTIC TALES. slight encouragement, will pursue that topic in a frank and interesting manner." " Let 's every one of us be hypnotized, and tell a story," cried the School-Boy. "It '11 be lots of fun." u Heaven forbid!" said the Rich Presbyterian, devoutly, as he glanced toward the door with a view of escaping, if the lad's proposition were acted upon. The Boston Girl tilted her nose upward; the Western Girl colored and giggled ; the Detective looked scared, and the Spiritualist shuddered. No one but the School-Boy and the Scientist seemed anxious for the experiment. "Wait a minute!" cried the long-bearded one; " I hear our Landlord coming in to replenish the fire. Ask him to join us to-night, and tell a story in his turn, and I will sit back in the shadows and hypnotize him without his knowing it." The man of science seated himself in a dark cor- ner, away from the fire-light, but where he could plainly see the faces of all the guests. The Landlord entered with a cheerful " haouw be ye this evenin'?" cast an armful of wood on the fire, and was on the point of leaving, when the company, with one accord, bade him to take a seat in the midst of his guests, and tell a story in turn with the rest. Now the Landlord was a typical New England tavern-keeper, who had been born and brought up in a country hotel, and had been the land- lord of various rural hostelries for forty years. He wore chin-whiskers trimmed in the old Connecticut fashion, and had a soft nasal voice and a conciliatory manner. The Hypnotist, seated in his shadowy corner, stroked INTRODUCTION. 5 his long, white beard, and fixed his eyes firmly on the face of the Landlord, as he sat nervously fingering his whiskers, and trying to frame some reasonable excuse for recalling the past. "I hed one curi'u's experience onct," he said, pre- sently ; and a faint smile lit up his face as he began : " I've been a-keepin' tavern this forty year." THE LANDLORD'S TALE. " I've been a-keepin' tavern this forty year, Summer an' * Winter, hot an' cold, wet an' dry, an' I 've hed good business an' I 've hed bad, but the wust ever I see wuz five year ago when I run the Eagle Hotel daown Bethel way, an' the law did n't allow no liquor ter be sold. Wa-al, fur a time I got along the best I could, sellin' only tew them ez I knowed, an' always puttin' on a mask an' all that ; but they war n't no money intew it, an' a big heap er risk. Then a feller opened a drug store acrost the street, an' right after that we hed a religious revival, an' some o' my best customers hed a change uv heart an' quit comin' tew my place — " "Ah!" cried the Rich Presbyterian, "I am glad to hear you bear testimony to the power of a religious revival. This hypnotism is indeed a marvelous thing," he continued, addressing the man of science, "if it makes this liquor seller admit the truth that only the power of religion can affect the profits of his nefarious calling." " Thet 's jesso," the Landlord said, nodding his head pleasantly; "ye see, daown aour way when folks 8 HYPNOTIC TALES. hez a change uv heart, they can't do no more settin' raound in the back rooms uv a hotel. They do all their drinkin' in the drug stores. Hain't ye never noticed haouw all the pious folks in a country village drops intew the drug store for sody an' one thing an' anuther ? Wa-al, I tell ye a tavern hain't got no chance at all alongside a drug store ; an' that druggist wuz a cute un, I kin tell ye. It wuz him ez started the revival an' kept it a-goin', long after every one thought the back-bone on 't wuz busted, by hevin' praise meetin's up tew his haouse ev'ry other night, an' askin' all them ez wuz converted tew stop in an' see him at his drug store, instid o' settin' araound the back room uv a rum-seller, ez wuz a partner uv the Devil. Of course, he done a big trade this way, an' 1 come putty near bein' run aout'n the business. " I wuz a-settin' up one night a-talkin' tew my wife, 'n' sayin' ez haouw it wuz putty hard fer tew hev all religion on the side uv the drug store, an' Satan with the rum-seller, an' not willin' tew protect his own at that, when she breaks in an' sez : " 1 Why should n't we hev a revival, an' revive folks back from .over the way tew aour own bar? ' " ' Mirandy,' sez I, < thet 's a good idee, an' I '11 think on 't a spell, an' let ye know.' " The next mornin' they wuz a feller by the name o' Lige Perkins come inter my place, an' called fer a drop o' Medford hot. I gin it tew him, for I knowed who THE LANDLORD'S TALE 9 he wuz, an' then we sat daown fer tew hev a little chat. Lige wuz one o' them critters that goes raound a-lecturin', an' a-play-actin', an' doin' a mite o' doctorin' here, or gettin' up a revival there, or mebbe raisin' a church debt, or peddlin' an elixir o' life he 'd invented an' made himself, that kep' folks alive when they 'd oughter be dead — an', in short, turnin' his hand ter putty nigh everythin'. He wuz smart ez chain \ lightnin', tew, an' could hustle along 'uth the next one. " ' What be you a-doin' this season, Lige?' says I. u ' Wa-al, I dunno,' sez he; 'I think mebbe I'll lectur' a spell on the 1 Converted Catholic ; or, the Hor- rors of the Hoboken Inquisition.' I kin make a sorter deal with camp-meetin's an' Sunday-school picnics, an' sich cattle ; an' what with hevin' fellers in the crowd a-sellin' the elixir o' life, I kalkerlate tew make aout putty well.' " 'Lige,' sez I, 'ye hain't never tried yer hand at temp'rance lectur's, hev ye ? Why not gin a few right here in this taown ? ' "'They ain't a dollar in temp'rance lectur's,' he says ; ' an onless ye kin make it an object, I don't see nuthin' in it fer me.' " 'Wa-al,' sez I, a-pourin' aout a leetle more Med- ford, ' mebbe I kin help ye aout, if you '11 fix up the lectur' tew suit my business.' He agreed, an' we sot a night for the show. The posters wuz stuck up sayin' ez haouw by my generosity the lectur' would take place in TO HYPXOTIC TALES. the ball-room uv the tavern. They wuz a big crowd, I kin tell ye, an' I did a lively business sellin' 'em hot rum an' apple-jack, an' one thing an' anuther, fur some on 'em hed druv in from the country an' wuz cold, an' they wuz all dry, ez usual. Then Lige got up, an' I tell ye, he gin 'em a lectur'. They wa'an't a word intew it abaout taverns and bar- rooms, but he laid it on thick abaout the evils uv drug stores, an' the custom uv hangin' abaout sody fountains. He spoke uv me ez a public-spirited man ez . kept a genooine temp'rance hotel, an' desarved the support uv all the religious folks, an' said that bein' ez 't was a temp'rance haouse, they could spend a social evenin' a-playin' set-back in my back room, without bein' suspected o' tipplin'. An' he said the temp'rance drinks I sold wuz healthier an' better for 'em than the abominable concoctions they gin aout in a drug store. I tell ye he gin a grand lectur' that night, an' the result wuz I got all my old customers back the next day, an' nobody dassent be seen a-goin' intew the drug store after that. " The druggist had tew sell aout, an' then I got all the trade. But I guess it 's the fust time a tavern- keeper ever got put on his feet by a temp'rance lecturer." The Landlord ceased speaking, and a murmur of THE LANDLORD'S TALE. ri approbation went round the circle. There was a ringing quality of truth and frankness in the tale that the com- pany found both novel and delightful. All were now clamorous for another Hypnotic Tale, and each was confident that when his own turn came, he would be able to resist the spell which the mysterious graybeard knew so well how to cast. " Let 's have a story from you, Signor," cried the Spiritualist, and all eyes were turned toward the long- haired Fiddler, who was peering gloomily into the fire, thinking about himself, as was his wont. The man of science turned in his chair, and fixed his brilliant eyes full on the musician. The latter yielded to their influence. A dreamy look came into his eyes, and he began his tale. THE FIDDLER'S TALE. 'You ask me for my story,' said Signor Trankadillo." THE FIDDLER'S TALE. OU ASK ME for my story — " said Signor Tranka- * dillo, Rome's Favorite Violinist. "Yes, indeed, Signor," cried the guests, eagerly; "let us hear some of your professional experiences." "Very well," answered the Fiddler, whose real name was Jabez Billings, and who had assumed an Ital- ian cognomen and long hair as adjuncts suitable to his art; "I will tell you of something that happened years ago, soon after I made my first reputation as a violinist. It is a strange, sad history, and one which I shall never forget, so deep was the impression that it made on me at the time." Leaning forward, so that the light from the blazing logs shone full on his strongly marked face, with its shock of long, iron-gray hair, Rome's Favorite Violinist began his tale : "Many years ago, although so vividly are the cir- cumstances engraven on my mind that it seems but yesterday, I was seated in my library, engrossed in my favorite volume, the one book which is priceless above all others, — without which I never stir from home." i6 HYPNOTIC TALES. "And yet," cried the Rich Presbyterian/' they say that professional people are not religious, and care noth- ing for the word of God." " While I was perusing my scrap-book of notices," continued the Fiddler, " I heard a knock at the door, lation, leaving a widow •"with the care of five young children on her shoulders. The story touched me, for the father had aided me during the earlier years of my career; but little did I dream of the climax to which my friend was artfully leading up. It had been decided, he said, to get up an entertainment for the benefit of these helpless orphans ; and then, before I could utter a word of warning, he asked me to appear at that benefit, and play on my beautiful violin without compensation. "It is only the true musician who can appreciate the shock I received when I was asked to do something for nothing. and an old friend of my childhood entered the room. As he seemed to be in a prosperous condition, I greeted him cordially, and for several min- utes we chatted pleasantly about our boyhood days, and those whom »> we had known long ago. Among other things, he told me of the sad fate which had befallen a family I had once known very well, and who were, in fact, distantly related \ to me. The father had died, after losing his all in some disastrous specu- THE FIDDLER'S TALE. " I fell back in my chair, too pained and mortified to speak. " As soon as I found my voice, I said: ' My friend, you know not what you ask? Are you aware of the fact that I am a member of the Musical Union, and that an awful vengeance would be meted out to me if I were to attempt even to put rosin on my bow at a benefit ? ' " 'But consider the poor orphans! ' he exclaimed. " ' I am a true artist!' I replied, haughtily; ' and never consider any one but myself. My terms are one hundred dollars; but as the case seems to be one of real distress, and I have no engagement at present, I will consent to appear on this occasion for seventy-five dol- lars, provided my name appears at the top of the poster in letters a foot high, followed by a line stating that I have kindly and generously volun- teered my services for the benefit, and will render two matchless violin solos.' " My friend shook his head sadly, and departed, leaving me indignant and unhappy. The next day he called on me again, told a harrowing tale of the destitution of the orphans, and renewed his importunities. "At last, moved to compassion by the pitiful story, I offered to appear for fifty- five dollars; but this did not satisfy him, and again he departed, leav- ing me in an almost frantic condition ; for, as a general thing, the mere mention of the word 4 benefit ' is enough to unstring my nerves for a whole day. i8 HYPNOTIC TALES. " He returned to me a third time, and — but why dwell upon this painful subject? Suffice it to say that at the end of two hours I, Signor Trankadillo, Rome's Favorite Violinist, agreed to play at that benefit for the paltry and wretched sum of twenty-five dollars. The amount was so small that I forgot to ask for it in ad- vance, which is a ceremony that I never neglect." The Fiddler paused in his narration, and buried his head in his hands, overcome by the remembrance of the bitter trials through which he had passed. His auditors, deeply moved, neither spoke nor stirred, and for a moment a solemn silence hung like a pall over the group. At last the musician raised his head, threw back his long locks of iron-gray hair, and, with a half sob in his voice, continued his narrative. "During the fortnight that elapsed before the night fixed for the benefit, my proud, sensitive artist soul went through sufferings which even now, after the lapse of years, I can not calmly describe. It seemed to me that the whole world knew my awful secret. I shunned the society of other musicians, fearing lest they should point the finger of scorn at me, and cry: " ' We know you, Signor Trankadillo; you pretend to be Rome's Favorite Violinist, and a member in good standing of the Musical Union, and yet down in the depths of your black heart you nourish the determina- tion to disgrace your art, and corrupt the finest feelings of your nature by appearing at the benefit of some wretched orphans for the paltry sum of twenty-five dollars ! ' THE FIDDLER'S TALE. 19 " One day, while in this bitter, suspicious mood, I was passing through the public market place, and stopped to look at the posters announcing the benefit. While I was measuring the letters with my foot-rule to see that my " Tli'iW'll'lipl ^ name was printed accord- I ' iiH< IffS^ ing to contract, my old friend, Dr. Tannhauser, tapped me on the shoulder. Dr. Tann- hauser is a pianist and I am a violinist, and so it happened that, al- though we are both musicians, we usually speak well of each other. I may remark, therefore, that not only is Dr. Tannhauser termed with perfect justice the Trankadillo of pianists, but he is also a skillful, persistent and conscientious worker for the piano manufacturer who hires him to puff his instruments. Moreover, he has given a course of lectures on 'The Dignity of the Musical Profession/ which are spoken of in the very highest terms by all those who have been fortunate enough to hear them. "Well, Dr. Tannhauser tapped me playfully on the shoulder, pointed to the poster, and said: " ' What ! a violinist volunteering for a benefit? Well, Signor, you and I know what volunteering means in our calling. I hope you make those orphans pay well for your services.' JO HYPNOTIC TALES. " I thought he knew my black secret, and was mocking me, and I returned home overcome with shame and humiliation. < At last the night of the benefit came — an awful night, with rain and wind and thunder and flashes of lightning. Although much depressed in spirits, I played my sym- phony in C. O. D., as I alone can play it. The audience, which was not large, cheered madly, and the other musicians who, like myself, had generously volunteered their services, tore their hair with envy. My num- ber was the last on the programme, and when I had finished, the audience dispersed, and I went to the box- office to get my paltry recompense. " How can I sit calmly here and describe the scene at the box-office window, when I learned that the re- ceipts had been so scanty that there was barely enough to pay the rent? The other volunteers had, of course, demanded payment in advance, and stood in the lobby grinning derisively at me. I begged, I implored, I screamed for my money. Then I sprang at the mana- ger's throat, and fell, insensate, on the cold pavement. " For weeks I lay on a hospital cot, raving about my twenty-five dollars. After a while reason returned to me, and I prayed that I might regain my strength, so that I might pursue into their graves the fiends who had induced me to play, and had then defrauded me of my money." Signor Trankadillo paused in his story, and wiped THE FIDDLER'S TALE. the sweat from his forehead. He was trembling with emotion, as the recollections of his sufferings came back to him with crushing force. His hearers, too, were deeply moved. "And did you ever obtain your just dues? " asked the Representative Business Man. " Did I? " he cried, triumphantly. "Did you ever know a true artist who did not? I hounded those miserable orphans until they paid me every dollar that was mine." " But how did they raise the money, if they were so poor?" "They made pin-cushions and pen-wipers, and sold them at a little fair which they held in a basement, for the benefit of Signor Trankadillo, Rome's Favorite Violinist. In this way they did me tardy justice." It was the Spiritualist who broke the silence. "That's a first-rate story," he exclaimed ; "but if you want to hear something really remarkable, just listen to me, and I will tell you a tale that illustrates the won- ders of spiritualism — " " Silence for the Spiritualist's Tale ! " cried the Hypnotist, as he stroked his long beard, and bent his gaze on the story-teller. THE SPIRITUALIST'S TALE. » Ye hain't a-goirt tew disturb my wife, when she : s laid there ten year, be ye f " THE SPIRITUALIST'S TALE. OU DO NOT believe in spiritualism; I can tell that * by your looks," said the apostle of the other world. " You would be surprised, perhaps, if I were to tell you that it is possible for believers in our faith to raise the dead to life. Nevertheless, when you have heard this story, which I know to be true, you will have no doubt that it is within the power of a true believer to accomplish this apparently impossible feat. "At this moment, as I go back in memory to the circumstances which I am about to narrate, I am more than ever convinced that the whole story should be written out and given to the world. I shall certainly carry out this idea at once, and very much in the fol- lowing form." Then, in a clear, even voice, as if he were reading aloud, the Spiritualist began his tale, quite unconscious of the potent glance of the Scientist: " Mr. Gettit Easy was one of the most popular and agreeable of the two-score of city people who made the village of Wampum, Conn., their home during the Sum- mer of 1889. Of pleasant manners, with a mind well 2t HYPXOTIC TALES. stored with that sort of learning which constant inter- course with the world alone can give, it is not strange that Mr. Easy succeeded in impressing not only his fellow-boarders, but also the residents of the little village, with his qualities as a man of refinement and high stand- ing. In addition to his other traits of character, Mr. Easy was an avowed Spiritualist, a fact which commended him in the highest degree to the good people of the neighborhood; for, like all the rest of enlightened New England, Wampum boasts a large proportion of spirit- ualists among its inhabitants. "Mr. Easy lingered at the village inn late into the Fall ; and, after the departure of his fellow-boarders, cultivated the society of his country neighbors with even greater assiduity than during the Summer months. There is a great deal of wealth represented by the families who dwell in the large substantial wooden houses that line the one broad elm-shaded street that constitutes Wampum Village; and • ~ --=-, it was with these families that Mr. \ \ ' \\ Easy sought to establish him- self on terms of pleasant inti- macy. Nearly all these people are spiritualists ; some openly j professing their belief, others pretending to despise it, yet in their secret hearts believing everything that an intelligent human being should be lieve in regard to 'warnings' and ''visions,' and the return to earth of the shades of the departed. THE SPIRITUALIST'S TALE. 27 " It was to several of these new friends that Mr. Easy one day broached a project which, for some time previous, he had been revolving in his mind. "'Why not hold one or two spiritualistic revival meetings, now that the days are getting shorter, and the evenings hang heavy on our hands ? ' "That was Mr. Easy's suggestion to the wealthy believers of Wampum Village, with whom he now stood on a very friendly footing, and it met with their heartiest approval. Accordingly, a series of Wednesday evening spiritualistic meetings was started under the special guid- ance of Mr. Easy, whose mastery of the mysteries of the craft was universally acknowledged and recognized in the village circles where he maintained his sway. "The first three or four of the Wednesday evening meetings passed off quietly, and with nothing to mark them as different from other gatherings of their kind; but, at the fifth meeting, Mr. Easy, in accordance with certain mysterious hints which he had thrown out at the previous assemblies, made an announcement which thrilled his hearers to their hearts' cores, and startled the old village from its lethargy of a hundred years. These are some of the words used by Mr. Easy on this memor- able occasion : " ' My friends, there are some mockers and scoffers who declare that spiritualism is a fraud, and that we, who conduct these seances and are familiar with the many manifestations whose meaning is perfectly plain to all of us, do these things for purposes of personal gain, and that we do not really believe that which we preach. s8 HYPXOTIC TALES. " 1 Now, my hearers, I propose to give the lie to these aspersions, at once and forever, one week from to-day, when I will prove to you, and to the whole community besides^ that miracles can still be accom- plished by means of help from the other world. I will prove to you that the miracles of the New Testa- ment can still be performed; for on that day I will go into the cemetery and bring back the dead to life. Yes, my friends, if you will come with me to the cemetery one week from to-day, you will see standing before you in the flesh, clothed, and in their right minds, the loved ones who have passed before you to the better land. You will see your wives, husbands, mothers, fathers and children ; and they will come back to live here with you many useful, happy years. So prepare, my friends, to meet them, and remember that by their coming the voice of the scoffer and mocker will be hushed forever.' " Mr. Easy's words produced a sensation in spirit- ualistic and other circles in Wampum Village that it is difficult to describe. So great was the esteem in which he was held that no one doubted for a moment hi§ THE SPIRITUALIST'S TALE. 2 g ability to do all that he said he would. There were many who were actually frightened by his words, and declared that they thought when he tried to usurp the prerogative of the Deity that he was going entirely too far, and ought to be stopped by the town authorities. But then, nothing could be done without the aid of the law, and there is nothing in any known statute-book which makes it a felony for a man to raise his friends and relatives from the dead. " The days wore on, and Mr. Easy busied himself with certain mysterious preparations for the event of Wednesday, wearing at the same time an air of cheerful confidence, which more than confirmed the popular belief that he would accomplish his task. "He had done it before, on a smaller scale, he de- clared, and he could do it again. Certain necessary preliminaries involved considerable expense ; but he could afford it ; and it was his pleasure to spend his money in proving to the world the great truths of spiritualism. " On Sunday morning, while he was busy sending a message to the spirit land, by means of a piece of chalk fastened between two slates and then dipped in a pail of water, he received a call from a certain Cap'n Israel Larrabee, one of the wealthiest residents of Wam- pum and a fervent believer in spiritualism, though he had never had the courage to proclaim his faith. Cap- tain Larrabee was one of those men who, by reason of their cowardice, are the very bane of all spiritualistic progress. Unfortunately for our great cause, the Captain was only one out of a very large number of timorous, HYPNOTIC TALES. half-avowed believers, and if it had not been for these men — but I am anticipating. "Mr. Easy welcomed his visitor cordially, and made room for him beside the wood fire by moving the huge table, touching it only with the tips of his fingers, to the other side of the room, and bringing up a big arm- chair in the same easy manner. " 1 There 's some on us ez 'u'd like tew know what folks you be a-goin' tew bring back tew life this comin' Wednesday,' said the Cap'n, after a preliminary cough- ing spell. " 1 1 am going to bring back the loved ones of the believers. That will be their reward for their faith in me,' replied Mr. Easy. " ' Ye hain't a-goin' tew disturb my wife, when she 's laid there ten year, be ye ? ' demanded the Cap- tain, piteously. "'Of course, I am,' rejoined the other, warmly. 'I will restore her to your arms, and she will comfort you for many a year to come.' "The Captain writhed uneasily in his chair, and then went on : ' Wa-al, there 's 'Lisha Elderkin's wife j been dead this two year. Ye see, a spell ago 'Lisha merried Sairey Doolittle, a cousin of hers, an' a gal his wife never could endure the sight on. She hed a pesky temper, I kin tell ye. Be you a-goin' tew fetch her back ag'in ? ' "'Certainly, I am. Mr. Elderkin 's a good be- liever, is n't he ? ' "The Captain said no more, and in a few moments THE SPIRITUALIST'S TALE. ji withdrew, leaving Mr. Easy to continue his preparations for the great event of the week. " Late that night, while he was busy producing spirit portraits by Rembrandt and Copley, he heard what he supposed at first was a communication from a dead author who was calling him up by ghostly rappings. But the knocking was on his own door, and it came from the earthly knuckles of Cap'n Larrabee, who was accompanied by old Ephraim Doolittle and young Bill Dyer, whose father, Judge Dyer, had been dead about two years. " It was Mr. Doolittle who opened the conversation, by asking as soon as they were seated : ' Mr. Easy, be you a-goin' tew bring them folks back tew life this week? ' "'Certainly, I am,' replied the spiritualistic expert. " 1 Is my father comin' back, too?' demanded Bill Dyer anxiously; for he had been making the old man's money fly pretty fast, and had no wish to be stopped short in his fun. " ' Your father shall certainly be restored to you,' was the reply. " ' I s'pose, er-r,' observed Mr. Doolittle, cautiously, (/./ and when Lent came, and we settled down to the quiet enjoyment of our sackcloth and ashes, I contrived to have him at the house on one pretext or another nearly every day. "One afternoon, — it was near the close of the penitential season, — I was surprised to hear some one walk swiftly through the front hall, go out, and close the door with an angry bang. A moment later my young lady came streaming into my room, scarlet with indig- nation — and very handsome and spirited she looked, THE CHAPERON' S TALE. 99 too, I can assure you — and before I could lift my voice, she burst out at me with : "'Did you dare to make Mr. Marigold believe that I would consent to become his wife ? ' " < Tut, tut,' I said ; i I 'm sure he 's a very desirable young man ; ' but she would not listen for a moment, only burst into tears, and declared that her father and I and the young man were all in a league together to compel her to marry a man she never could love — I wonder if she knew how near to the truth she came, then — and at last she ended by rushing up to her room in a passion, and vowing that she would n't remain another day under my roof. " Here was a pretty state of things. I telegraphed her father, and he came on at once, reaching the house early the next morning, but not early enough, for she had slipped out half an hour before he came, and I had to receive him alone. "I told him that young Marigold — -the best catch in New York — had offered himself to his daughter, and that I would like my check for five thousand dollars, according to our agreement. "'And what does Prudence say?' asked the old man ; and just at this moment a messenger-boy brought in a letter addressed to him. He opened it, read it, and then actually groaned : ' I ought to have known that girl too well to have tried that scheme. I thought if she went to New York she might forget all about him, but too HYPNOTIC TALES. she has n't. The girl 's got her mother's spirit in her. Read this.' " He handed me the letter, and I read: " < John and I were married just now. Prudence.' " Then the mercenary old thing actually brightened up a little, and said : < Any way, that lets me out on the five thousand.' " " I 'm glad of it ! " cried the School-Boy, enthusias- tically, for he had listened to the story with deep interest. "Well, Sonny, suppose we have a tale from you," said the Representative Business Man, who did not wish the party to break up. "Yes, indeed," said the Hypnotist, as he tried to catch the lad's eye. THE SCHOOL- BOY'S TALE. THE SCHOOL-BOY'S TALE. ERT," said the School-Boy, unabashed by the ^— ' attention of which he had suddenly become the focus; "1 can tell you a story about something that happened up in our hall just before the holidays, and made lots of fun for all the boys. You see, all of us little fellows room in the same house with the Doctor and his family, so he can get to us quick in case we make a row, or get hurt or sick or anything. Well, Deacon Drury has a room all to himself in the upper hall where the boys' rooms are — " "Who's Deacon Drury? One of the teachers, I suppose," remarked the Detective. "No; he 's one of us boys; only we call him Deacon because he 's such a solemn-looking fellow, and always inventing all sorts of things for us to have fun with. The Doctor won't let him room with any of the other fellows because he 's nearly killed one or two little chaps by his patent gunpowder going off under their beds, or their drinking some of his chemicals thinking it was lemonade. So, now, he has a room all to him- self under the garret eaves, where he can keep all his HYPNOTIC TALES. chemicals and mixtures, and where he works away at his flying machine every afternoon when there 's nothing in particular going on." " His flying machine !" exclaimed the Representa- tive Business Man, incredulously. " Certainly ! Why not? You don't begin to know what a genius Deacon Drury is. Alexander and Socrates, and those ancients we learn about were nothing to him in my opinion. He 's all the time inventing things. He made a pistol, all by himself, that exploded and came near blowing Tommy Finn's hand off ; and there is n't a boy in the upper hall that has n't had his hair or eye- brows singed one time or another by the Deacon's magic powder. He made a portable ghost with phosphorous eyes, that he could fold up and carry in his coat pocket, and most scared the life out of a new boy with it ; and as for his flying machine, when he gets that ready, it '11 be a surprise to the Doctor and a good many other folks, too, I guess." THE SCHOOL- BOY'S TALE. " What 's the principle of his flying machine ?•" ' 'Nobody knows what it's like. When the Deacon invents anything he shuts himself up in his room and works away at it, and nobody ever sees it until he 's ready to spring it on the school. We 're all crazy about that flying machine, and Drury claims that, when it 's finished, he'll be able to fly from the window of the Upper Hall clear across the play- ground to the roof of the school-house. It '11 be a big day for the Deacon when he does that." " But do you mean to tell us that the teacher of your school permits a boy to go on preparing for an experiment which will certainly result in his death ? " demanded the Spiritualist. "Permits nothing! What has the ^ teacher got to say about it, any way ? It may be all right for him to boss us in school-hours, but the rest of the time it 's none of his business what we do. Any how, you don't suppose the Deacon 's fool enough to let the Doctor know what he 's about, do you ? No, sirree ! Ever since he had his bombshell taken away from him, just when it was finished, and he was loading it with his own powder, he 's been mighty careful not to let any of the teachers find out what he 's doing. He 's built a sort of a closet 'way out under the eaves of the roof, and hides all his tools and chemicals and other traps in it, so 's nobody will find 'em. Why, it was the Deacon who invented the combination suit for the Upper Hall." HYPNOTIC TALES. "The what?" asked the Boston Girl. "The combination suit. You see, if you 're late for breakfast you don't get any ; and there 's always some fellow who stays in bed till the last bell rings, and then has n't time to dress and get down to table before the Doctor asks the blessing. So the Deacon collected enough clothes in the hall to make a medium-sized suit, with a false shirt bosom under the vest that looked all right ; and he had the whole thing sewed together and hung on a nail in the hall, where any fellow that stayed in bed till the bell rang could jump into it and get downstairs in time for breakfast. But by-and-by the Doctor thought it kind of funny that the last boy down from the Upper Hall always wore an old corduroy vest, and had his pants rolled up if he was small, and wore 'em at half-mast if he was a big fellow ; so he took a tumble, and the combination suit was barred out. Then we told the Deacon he 'd got to in- vent something that 'u'd beat the combina- tion suit ; and he hid in his den for a week, and we did n't see anything of him at all. At last, one night while we were all sitting around the stove, rubbing ourselves with Pond's Extract, for we 'd been playing shinny all the afternoon, the Deacon came out of his room, and says he : "'Well, fellows, I guess I 've got it this time, sure.' " 'What is it? ' says all of us at once. " < The biggest thing I ever invented — next to the flying machine.' TJJE SCHOOL-BOY'S TALE. "'Look out or it'll explode!' sings out Tommy Finn; and, of course, we all burst out laughing; but the Deacon did n't mind it a bit. He don't care whether we laugh at him or not; just pegs along in his own queer way, same as if nobody said anything to him at all. " 'This thing of mine,' said the Deacon, 'I 'm going to patent and sell all over the country. Every boarding-school in the land ought to have one. I call it a Doctor-Catcher.' And then he goes in his room and fetches out a great long wire, with some queer fixings at one end of it, and an old dinner-bell at the other. 'Now,' says the Deacon, 'you know that loose step down near the bottom of the staircase, just before you reach the dining-room door. Well, when the Doctor comes upstairs he always comes up slow and deliberate, one step at a time.' " ' Not when he hears an explosion in your room/ puts in Tommy Finn; and then we all began to laugh again. " 'Well,' goes on the Deacon, 'this contrivance is attached to the loose stair, so that when the Doctor steps on it, the wire rings the dinner-bell upstairs, and we know he 's coming. Now we '11 take a screw-driver and some screws and go down to fasten it, just to see how it will work.' " It took an awful lot of trouble to get the wire io8 HYPNOTIC TALES. fixed so it would n't be noticed ; but at last we got it all right; and when the Doctor came upstairs that evening we heard the bell ring long before he was halfway up. That gave us plenty of time to hustle into bed, and be asleep and snoring when he got to the rooms. So, of course, we all said the Deacon's Doctor-Catcher was a big thing ; and we made a rule in the Hall that any fellow who trod on the loose step in the staircase was to get three boots around, so we would n't have any false alarm. "Well, everything went along first-rate for some time ; and I guess the Doctor must have thought it mighty queer that, no matter how quietly he came up- stairs, everybody was still as a mouse when he reached the place. We all of us saved a lot of bad marks, be- cause, no matter what we might be doing, we never got caught. But one morning the Deacon stayed in bed till the last bell rang, hopped up in a great hurry, and jumped into the combination suit, because he did n't have time to put his own clothes on ; then started down- stairs on the dead-run. How he did it, I don't know, but somehow he managed to catch his foot in the wire, and the first thing we knew, while we were all sitting at breakfast, we heard a fearful noise outside, and then the door burst open and the Deacon came tumbling in and fell full length on the floor, and you could hear the old dinner-bell a-rattling down the stairs behind him. "We all burst out laughing, while the Deacon picked himself up and began getting his feet out of the wire. THE SCHOOL- BOY'S TALE. log " 'Drury,' says the Doctor, kinder quick and mad like, 'come here to me at once;' and the Deacon started, gave another pull to the wire, and down came the dinner-bell rattling and jangling right on to the dining-room floor. I don't know which looked most surprised, the Deacon or the Doctor. " ' What 's that bell?' says the Doctor. " 'That 's the bell that rings when anybody 's com- ing upstairs, sir.' "'Then you'll have ten marks for ringing it on the way down,' says the Doctor; and that was the last of the Doctor-Catcher." "Good night," came from every one; and in a few minutes the fire, burning low on the hearth, shone on an array of empty chairs. " It 's a curious fact," said the Hypnotist, as the company separated for the night, " but I could n't hyp- notize that boy at all. He told the truth naturally and of his own volition. Very different from the rest of you." OTHER TALES. THE BUNCO-STEERER'S CHRISTMAS. IN A neat but humble room on the east side of the city, Mary Sawdust sat with her sewing on her lap, and her children playing on the floor beside her. There were traces of tears on her young face, and a quiver in her lip as she diligently plied her needle, for it lacked but two days of Christmas, and she had no money with which to buy presents for her little ones. " Mama," said little Ethel, sud- denly, placing her hand on her mother's knee, " do you think kind Papa has caught a sucker on the Bridge to-day?" |f|\ " I do not know, llv^S darling," replied WJb^ Mary Sawdust ; u we must hope *ftfi&- for th e best; but if he has, he will work him for all he is worth." OTHER TALES. She turned to her work again with a deep sigh, and little Ethel ran off to join her brother Willie in a merry game of " Catch the Jay." It was late when Henry Sawdust returned to his home, wearied with his hard day's work on the Brooklyn Bridge. As he hung his dinner pail on its accustomed hook, and threw himself into a chair, his faithful wife noticed that his cheeks wore a hectic flush, while there was a strange glitter in his eyes. Ctf It is nothing," he said; "it will pass ofT." But the next morning he awoke in a raging fever, and poor Mary Sawdust realized that her Christmas was likely to be a sadder one than she had looked forward to. "You must be very quiet to-day, little ones," said she to her children, " for Papa is very sick, and I can not leave his bedside." Little Willie was still and thoughtful for some time after his mother left the room. Then he said softly to his sister: " I wish I were a big man, so that I might help Papa while he is sick. I have often asked him to let me go with him to carry the gold brick and the directory of bank cashiers, but he says I am too little. I know what I will do. I will go out on the Bridge, and try to win a roll. Oh, how pleased Mama will be if I succeed; and what nice Christmas presents we would get ! " Putting on his little ulster and hat, he set forth on his mission. As he was walking down the Bowery, he encountered a man who wore a broad hat and a coat of quaint pattern, and carried in his left hand an old-fash- ioned carpet-bag. THE BUNCO-STEERER'S CHRISTMAS. irj " Please, sir," said the child, clasping the stranger's right hand in his slender fingers, "how are all the folks in Chenango ? " *' Hey ! what ! " gasped the astonished provincial, turning his gaze from the tops of the houses to the child- ish face before him. "Oh, sir," continued little Willie, "poor Papa is sick, and I am trying to earn money enough to buy him a new ulster, and some dye for his moustache. Won't you please let me steer you into the joint ? I am such a little boy that I can not work you myself ; but Thirsty Bill, Papa's friend, is there, and he can win a sucker's roll every time in great shape." "Well, I swan!" exclaimed the stranger; "I've 9 OTHER TALES. had 'em try this on me every time I Ve come to town for the last ten years ; but this is the youngest one I ever seen in the business." "Oh, sir," pleaded the child; "Christmas is com- ing, and we have no presents ! Papa is ill, and so poor that he had no benzine to put on his silker yesterday when he went out on the Bridge. Won't you please come and be buncoed, and then dear Mama will be so happy." The stranger seemed deeply moved by Willie's simple tale. " Take me home with you, child," he said, "and I will try to help you." In a few minutes he was standing in Henry Saw- dust's cheerful parlor, talking to the faithful wife, and learning from her lips the story of their poverty and suffering. "Would you like to see my husband?" she said, leading the way to the little bedroom. The sick man stirred uneasily on his cot as they entered, and feebly murmured: "Ah! do my eyes de- ceive me? Can this be my old friend Mr. Johnson, of Elmira ? " The stranger turned aside and wiped his eyes. " Madam," he said, " I have been the President of a Hartford Insurance Company for twenty years ; but this sight has completely unmanned me. And to think of your two innocent babes not having any Christmas presents ! Well, it shall never be said of Hiram Duzen- bury that he did n't do at least one generous act in his life." THE BUNCO-STEERER'S CHRISTMAS. 117 He turned to the sick man and said gently: "Yes, I am Mr. Johnson of Elmira, and I met you at your uncle's bank. Hush ! Do not try to speak, for you are not strong enough yet. I want a gold brick — I deal in 'em when I 'm home ; and I want to see the prize you 've drawn in the lottery, and the picture you painted in Paris. And when you 're better we '11 see the town to- gether. Meantime take this and credit me with the usual cash discount." He laid five crisp hundred-dollar bills on the cover- let, then grasped his carpet-bag and departed before Mary Sawdust could collect her scattered senses. And on Christmas Day the children gathered about the beautiful tree, and gave thanks to the kind stranger who had buncoed himself that they might be happy. ALADDIN. ^NCE UPON A TIME there was a little boy named Aladdin who preferred to play "hookey" rather than to go to school and improve his mind. One day while he was playing in a vacant lot, a stranger approached him and said : 'Are you not the son of Musty Furr, the tailor ? " The boy replied that he was, and added that he went to "Thir- teenses " school, but had taken a holiday that day on account of a birth in the family. ' exclaimed the stranger, " I am your long lost uncle ; for I, too, went to ' Thirteenses ', and stayed away whenever there was a birth, death or marriage in the family." The next day the stranger came to the little boy, < Then, : 120 OTHER TALES. and told him that he was a magician with a little open time on his hands, owing to the fact that the company with which he had been traveling was "resting" that week on Union Square. And the magician took the boy to a wild gulch on Orange Mountain, and bade him enter a dark cavern and bring him an old lamp which he would find there. The boy found the lamp, and made his escape with it through a cleft in the rock, leaving the fakir sitting by the cave, and wondering why he did not appear. Aladdin started for New York on foot ; but before he had gone very far he concluded to stop and polish up the lamp, in order that it might bring a better price in the junk-shop. So he sat down by the roadside, moist- ened his handkerchief, and began to scour the old cop- per lamp. But the moment he began to rub, the ground seemed to open before him, and there appeared a crea- ture which he recognized at once as a Genie. "What do you want?" demanded the Genie. " I want to get back to New York," gasped the astonished boy. "Not an unusual wish in this neighborhood," re- plied the strange creature, as he seized Aladdin by the coat collar and deposited him the next minute in front of his mother's door. He was afraid to go in, because he had been away so long ; and, as he hesitated, he took his handkerchief from his pocket and began to polish up the lamp, which he still carried under his arm. Instantly the Genie appeared in a puff of queer-smelling smoke, and demanded : ALADDIN. T2f " What do you want ? " " Something to square me with me mother," re- plied Aladdin ; and in a moment the Genie placed in his arms a huge bundle of kindling-wood, such as boys gather about new buildings. Aladdin entered the house and gave his mother an account of his adventures. He showed her the wonderful OTHER TALES. lamp, and explained its properties. After that, they, lived happily for a number of years, depending on the lamp for whatever they wanted to eat, drink or wear. And when the youth was in his twentieth year he attended the picnic of the Dennis Mahoney Association, and there beheld the beautiful Miss Maude Mahoney, the daughter of the eminent politician. And Aladdin fell in love with her at once, and went home and told his mother that he must marry her. But the old lady laughed him to scorn, saying that it would be useless for him to woo the child of the proud chief of the Public Manger, the man with the big "pull" at Albany. Nevertheless, the young man went down to the Public Manger office the next day, and waited in the ante-room, in company with a number of gentlemen who desired employment " on the big pipes," and some oth- ers who wished to sell tickets for balls and target excur- sions, for election day was not far off. And when he was admitted to the presence of the "boss," he said to him". " Sir, I would like to many your daughter." "What ! " exclaimed Mr. Mahoney scornfully. "My daughter marry a young man without a pull in his dis- trict ! In what sort of style would you support her? " " Meet me to-morrow at the Jersey City Ferry in time for the 10:03 train, and I will show you," was the answer. And the politician reached the ferry-house at 9:48 — so great was his anxiety — and had time to get the West Street mud scraped off his boots before Aladdin arrived. The 10:03 train took them to a hill which ALADDIN. 123 overlooked the romantic plains lying between Newark and Jersey City. And within five minutes' walk of the station they found a splendid palace lit by electricity, heated by steam, and containing all the other modern improvements. The Genie met them at the door, and conducted them through the whole house, from top to bottom, finally leading them to the dining-room, where they "had something" out of a square wicker-covered bottle. When the politician saw this beautiful palace he exclaimed: "Why, this mansion is for all the world like one described in a volume of fairy tales called 1 Picturesque Homes on the Erie ! ' " So he gave his consent to his daughter's marriage, and the ceremony took place the following day amid great pomp and splendor. And Aladdin's palace became the envy and admiration of all the people for many suburbs around. All the best families called on the young couple, and when Aladdin and his bride gave a grand house-warming the wonder of his guests knew no bounds : for they saw that the chimneys all drew properly, that the front door could be slammed on a book-agent without menace to the glass jars in the cellar, that the fire never languished in the furnace, and — most marvelous of all — that the electric door- bell always worked. These miracles were, of course, brought about by the Genie, who spent his entire time in the palace attend- ing to the various details of housekeeping. By the use of his magic arts he performed feats that were the talk 124 OTHER TALES. of the whole region around. He compelled farmers to sell him fresh vegetables and eggs of recent origin for very little more than they could realize by trucking them to New' York, a dozen miles away. He could in- duce a native to spade up the garden, mend the fence or whitewash the hen-house ; and that, too, at the very height of the fishing season. In short, there absolutely nothing that the Genie could accomplish. leanwhile the magician who had first taken Aladdin to the cave of the wonderful lamp had been playing in hard luck. The company with which he was engaged had disbanded. And the disintegration had, unfortunately, taken place while they were harass- ing the northern part of the State of Michigan. It took the magician jj|jU~v. nearly two years to walk back to sjh New York ; and during that time he subsisted entirely on omelettes which he cooked in his own high hat, rabbits which he caught in the sleeves of his dress suit, and gold fish which he took from the glass globe in his coat-tail pocket. On reaching the metropolis he learned of Aladdin's prosperity, and knew that he owed it to the wonderful lamp. So he procured half-a- dozen new lamps, with patent devices for lighting and ALADDIN. extinguishing, and boldly made his way to the suburban palace during the absence of the Genie, who had gone over to the Guttenberg track to pick "mud winners" for his master. The magician rang the electric bell, and boldly offered to exchange a new lamp for an old one. The mistress of the house was upstairs lying down, but she could not resist this opportunity for a trade (her grand- father on her mother's side amassed a large fortune from the product of a nutmeg grove in the vicinity of Hart- ford, Connecticut) ; so she took an old lamp that had long laid on a shelf in the storeroom, went to the door and asked the magician what he would give "to boot" if she consented to exchange a veritable antique for two 'or three of his wretched Philistine abominations. In less than half an hour he had exchanged his entire stock of lamps for the old one, and sealed the bargain by throwing in a gratuitous performance of the goldfish trick, which he executed on the doormat in the presence of the entire household. The faithful Genie did not return that evening. He brought the money won at Guttenberg to his new master, the magician ; and then, at the latter's command, erected a new palace on a high hill, and filled it with every modern convenience. When Aladdin returned home that night and found what his wife had done he was enraged, and cried out, saying: "Now all our good fortune is gone, and we are like other suburban residents, dependent for our daily bread on the local baker." 126 OTHER TALES. And from that day the fortunes of the Aladdin family began to fail. They could not get a man to spade up the garden, because the man had a job somewhere else. The rain descended and filled the cellar so that Aladdin had to go about in a flat-bottom boat when he fixed the furnace. When the "best people in the town" called at the house they could not get in, because the electric bell was out of order, and so they went away in high dudgeon. They spent all the money they had left in having the roof repaired and the leak in the bath-tub stopped up. Finally they became so poor that they kept thirteen dogs ; and then Aladdin put on sackcloth, and threw ashes, of which the cellar was full, upon his head, and beat his breast, and cried "Allah, be merciful to me ! " And now the magician was in the swim, for all the best people called on him, and invited him to join the suburban club, and subscribe to the village band and the base-ball nine. And soon he became so popular that a committee of Independent Citizens nominated him for road commissioner. So he "yielded to the wishes of his friends " and became a candidate. Then, in order to make himself "solid" with the working classes, he an- nounced a grand entertainment for the benefit of the local Bricklayers' Union. And Aladdin, hearing of this, resolved to defeat the plans of the wicked fakir; so he attended the performance disguised as a countryman in humble circumstances and of limited intelligence. He seated himself on the front bench, and by dint of gazing in open-mouthed wonder at the "professor" was soon ALADDIN. selected as a " gentleman from the audience" to step upon the stage and make a guy of himself. When the magician was preparing for the great card trick, Aladdin espied in a small basket ^ ^ the wonderful lamp, which was evidently to be used in the " Inex- plicable Phenomena " at the close of the entertainment. "Now, ladies and gentle- men," said the fakir, advancing to the front of the stage, " I have here the ace of hearts, which I will But at this instant Aladdin sprang across the stage at a single bound, seized the OTHER TALES. lamp, and rubbed it across his coat-sleeve, bringing the Genie into his presence at once. " Seize this man and away with him ! " he exclaimed : and the faithful Genie obeyed, while the people remained spell-bound with surprise. ''Ladies and gentlemen," said Aladdin, taking off his false wig and beard, "do not be alarmed. These are the " Inexplicable Phenomena " mentioned in the pro- gramme. I shall be glad to see you all — that is, all the best people — at my palace whenever you may care to call. The door bell will ring." And after that, Aladdin and his wife dwelt so happily together in their suburban palace that they always spent at least six months in the city. And wherever they went they were attended by the faithful Genie, who procured comforts and luxuries for them such as no other mortals could obtain. JOHN COPPERTUG'S FALL. A Tale of Prohibition and Ice -Water. " JDlease, sir, has my father been here yet?" A It was a timid, shrinking child who uttered these words. Her golden head was barely level with the polished top of the bar; and, as she stood there, the loungers in the gorgeous saloon cast glances of wonder at her. She seemed strangely out of place in that glit- tering palace of strong drink. The bar-tender, glancing at the sunny face and beseeching blue eyes, said, in tones of unwonted tenderness : " N-a-a-aw." "Then, sir," said the child, a deli- ' cate flush mantling her cheeks as she spoke, "my mother says will you please fill her growler for her, and Father will pay you when he comes uptown?" John Coppertug was a man of kindly, genial disposition, except when deprived of his needed quantity of strong drink. When in his cups, no kinder father or more indulgent husband could be found. Then it was that he brought home toys OTHER TALES. for his children, took his wife to the theatre, and made glad the hearts of all about him. It was only when he yielded to his evil cravings and tampered with the pernicious ice-water that the dark side of his character appeared. Then he would go home sullen and cross, ready to find fault with his wife, scold his children, and cast a gloom over the family circle. No wonder, then, that in the bitterness of her heart, his wife would utter a wailing cry against the Croton Aqueduct Board, and bitterly deplore the existence of street drinking-fountains. And on the evening of which we write, John Cop- pertug was making his way uptown with bowed head and scowling visage. He did not stop at the corner-saloon for his customary evening " nip," but bent his steps directly toward the little home in which his wife and children awaited him. The curtains were drawn in the cozy parlor, and the lamp on the centre-table shone softly on the face of the mother plying her needle and listening anxiously for her husband's footfalls. The cheery light fell, also, on the happy faces of the children at play on the floor. It gleamed on the polished sides of the tin growler which stood, half emptied, on the table. Mary Coppertug was at work on a pillow-case, and as she sewed she wondered whether her husband would come home sober or not. Would he roll merrily in with unsteady step and a breath as fragrant as a zephyr from the far off Spice Islands ? Would the theatre tickets gleam on her from his vest-pocket ? Would his face have a Spring-bonnet smile ? JOHN COPPERTUG'S FALL. " Papa 's coming ! " cried the golden-haired child from her place by the window. " Coming ! " echoed the wife, dropping her work and leaping to her feet. "Look, child, and tell me if he is full." " No," said the little girl, sadly. "No," repeated Mary Coppertug, the bright vision fading from her mind ; "then may Heaven protect us! There will be no treat for us to-night. He has been at the water-faucet again. Run and hide, children, for your father is not himself to-night." When John Coppertug entered the room, he found his faithful wife seated, needle in hand, by the little centre-table. His eye fell upon the tin pail which, in her anxiety, she had forgotten to conceal. His brow darkened. IO OTHER TALES. " What is that?" he demanded. "It is the growler," she replied, firmly and sadly. "I have been working it for myself and our little ones. Oh, John, the time was when you used to share our simple pleasures ! Why not now, as in the happy days gone by ? " Her husband seized the pail and emptied its con- tents out of the window. " There!" he exclaimed; "I 'm done with growl- ers for ever. Come here, and I '11 tell you what I 'm going to do." She came nearer, with a strange look of horror on her face. He bent his head and whispered something in her ear. Then he went out into the still, cold night, and left her standing by the table with lips compressed and wild, staring eyes from which no tears would flow. ***** An hour later Mary Coppertug entered her father's house leading her three children by the hand. " I have come home to you at last, Mother," she JOHN COPPERTUG'S FALL. said wearily, as she sank into a chair; "I can bear it no longer. John and I have been growing apart from one another for a long time, but I never thought it would come to this. To-night he told me that he had resolved to — to — " "What?" demanded her mother. "To vote the Prohibition ticket!" JOHN COPPERTUG'S REFORMATION. A Tale of Seltzer and Lemon-Soda. " entlemen," said the politician, as he entered the ^— ^ gilded palace of strong drink; "step up and take something with me." His invitation was accepted by thirteen individuals who were leaning against the bar, or sitting with chairs tilted up against the wall. There was one man, however, who did not respond, but re- mained in a corner of the saloon with eyes down- cast, and sullen, dissatisfied look. "Every gentleman in the house step up and take a drink ! " repeated the politician, with a friendly smile of encouragement. " Won't you join us, sir?" he added, glancing at the morose man who had not responded to his invitation. "Come," said the bar-tender; "don't take a shingle off a man's house." The morose man sighed wearily as he arose and strode toward the bar. There was a chill in his voice that was felt by all who heard him say, in sullen tones ° " Gimme a seltzer-lemonade ! " OTHER TALES. In the sad-faced cold-water man who stood leaning on the polished bar few would have recognized the once happy and jovial John Coppertug. Temperance drinks were fast working his ruin. Ever since his decision to vote the Prohibition Ticket he had been a changed man. His wife had not seen him since the day she left him and returned to her father's house. His home was de- solate, and he spent his evenings in the glittering corner saloon, where he imbibed temperance drinks until weakened nature compelled him to desist. And so, on this cool October night, when the electric-light was shining on the pavement with- out and the gas-light flickering cheerily within, when the politicians were " setting 'em up" with a rapidity that fairly dazzled and bewil- ^ dered the oldest " heelers" in the room, when cocktail felt the kindly and genial warmth of political hospitality, and took his place at the bar for each round — then it was, John Coppertug's better na- ture began to assert itself. "Please, sir, will you fill my mother's growler?" Why did John Coppertug start when he heard these words ? They were uttered by a golden-haired child — his own child. Well did he know the tin pail she placed on the bar. It was the growler, the bright growler of happier days. And the child — little Eva, with sunny curls — was quick to recognize her father. She ap- proached him shyly, and hid her face in the tails of his last Spring overcoat. even the man-who-sweeps-out-the-saloon-for-a- JOHN COPPER TUG'S REFORMATION. ' exclaimed the politi- lemon-soda," said John Coppertug, " Come, set 'em up again! cian. " Gimme moodily. "O Father ! Why do you stick to soft drinks? said little Eva, in pleading accents. " See, these other gentlemen are all taking hard liquors, just as you used to when we all lived hap- pily together in the little home. We are staying with kind Gran'pa now ; and he gets full every night, and is, oh ! so good to us." "What's yours, sir?" asked the bar-tender. For a moment John Coppertug hesi- tated, then his better nature yielded, and he said : " Lemon-soda." A tear stood in little Eva's right eye. " Take a little of Mr. Gilhooley's old rye," she whispered, coaxingly. "That was what you always used to smell of when you came home and kissed us all, and took us to the theatre. Dear Gran'pa says that is the best drink in the world to make a man feel good." The bar-tender heard her, and placed the whiskey- bottle before the supporter of the Prohibition Ticket. There was a momentary struggle in the temperance man's breast. "I want lemon-soda," he said, in tones of feeble remonstrance. "Please, Mr. Bar-tender," said the child, in firm, OTHER TALES. clear tones; "please don't sell my father any more temperance drinks. Mother is so afraid he will come home sober again. Winter is coming on, and she has no seal-skin sacque. Oh, please, give him a little of that good rye ! " The rough loungers in the saloon were visibly affected. "Take some of the rye, John, if only to please your child," said the politician, persuasively. John Coppertug was not a wholly bad man, and now all that was noble in him bravely asserted itself. "I will," he said, manfully; "and, what's more, I '11 take a squirt of bitters in it. Run home, Eva, and tell your mother I '11 come to her again — full as I used to be. Tell her I 'm done with temperance drinks forever." After that, John Coppertug never went home sober again. VARIETY THEATRE REFORM. A Long Needed Penal Code. HThe New Penal Code intended to mitigate the * horrors of the variety stage will go into effect at an early date. It provides suitable penalties for different offenses which have hitherto been committed without rebuke. It is gratifying to know that a long-suffering Public has at last risen in its might, and invoked the passage of a law which constitutes every audience a vigilance committee, with the power to mete out instant punishment to the reckless and hardened criminals of the variety stage. Hereafter it will be unlawful to play a sketch containing the lines: " Yessir, I do want to hire a man. What can you do?" or, "Here he comes now. I '11 hide behind this barrel, and when he comes in I'll down him;" or, "I put an advertise- ment in the paper this morning for a young man, but I don't see it anywheres. Ah, here it is;" or, "Yes, I am a musician, and I can play on pretty near anything. OTHER TALES. I '11 take down the stove and play you a few airs on it, just to show you what I can do." The blind man who is let loose on the stage with an accordion will be cast into outer darkness. All attempts to enhance the melancholy of variety and minstrel performances by inten- tionally pathetic ballads or recitations will be severely punished. This section of the Code is intended to apply particularly to songs containing allusions to home, ma- ternal love, the old kitchen clock, and relics which once belonged to the sing- er's grandfather. " Old oaken " heirlooms of every description are forbidden. All drinking-songs, songs in which kissing, laughing, or the popping of corks is por- trayed with the aid of the audience, and songs whose effect is heightened by the cracking of whips, or rattling of castinets are prohibited by law. Attempts to extract music from coal-scuttles, cuspi- dors, tea-pots, or any other domestic utensils, will be punished by imprisonment in the county jail. Dutch and Irish comedy of the "just landed" variety, songs laudatory of the Emerald Isle, and those beginning, "I 'm a happy little something; " shoes with numbers on their soles, and ventriloquists with little wooden dolls, will not be tolerated under any circum- stances. Jokes and " gags " must be propelled into the audience by their own momentum. No external aid VARIETY THEATRE REFORM. from the leader of the orchestra, or members of the company will be tolerated ; nor will it be legal to lubri- cate the path of a weary and care-worn joke by the remark: "That goes better at matinees." Swinging angels will be swung from the nearest lamp-post. There will be a prohibitory tariff on elongated blad- ders, tea-cup hats, bottomless carpet-bags, trick-vests, explosive cigars, squeaking " property " babies, and female impersonators. And a high license for side-walk conversations, banjo monologues, lightning change acts and imitations of popular actors. Performers will not be permitted to bill themselves as " Comical Maguire," or "Funny Maginnis," or "The Rip-Snorting Mokes from Omaha." They must save what humor they possess for the stage. After-pieces showing the sorrows of a manager en- gaging a company may be given only under the super- vision of the local authorities. Specialists will not be permitted to add to the honors of the after-piece by doing "acts" in which they have already appeared that evening. Instant transportation to Siberia is the penalty fixed for violation of this law. Serio-comics who take more than one encore do it at their own risk. The dungeon yawns for the man who engages in that form of iniquity known as the " pedestal-clog," or revives ancient plantation darkey business, or attempts to depict extreme age by means of a cotton wig and nickel-plated "specs," and slides down a trick-staircase, or takes the leader of the orchestra into his confidence. Criminals banded together for the purpose of harass- ing peaceable communities with "statue-clogs," or songs beginning "Come to the Silvery Stream," or, "There 's Moon, there 's moon, there 's moon, There 's Moonlight on the Lake," will be punished by fine or imprisonment, or both. Topical songs may be given under police sur- veillance only. The contortionist in black tights will get all the writhing he wants in the sweet by-and-by. Magicians who change a soiled pocket-handkerchief into an egg, women who impersonate swells with the aid of a long coat and blond wig, vocalists who sing " As I was going down the Street a Pretty Girl I Chanced to Meet," and ruffians who portray tenement-house quarrels will be summarily dealt with. The girl who spreads out a fan behind her back, or performs the ancient and horrible skipping-rope dance, will also be severely punished. Special enactments will protect the public from all VARIETY THEATRE REFORM. H3 forms of torture by the cornet and accordion. Virtuosos attempting to wrest melody from the latter will be given over to the tormentors. Those who play Scotch airs on the first-named instrument will be left to the mercies of the audience. It will not be lawful to perform on two or more musical instruments simultaneously, or to indulge in unnatural tricks, such as waving the banjo in mid-air, playing flute solos while standing on one's head, or extracting from one instrument imitations of another. The authorities will close the house as soon as any one attempts to play on a chime of bells. Every banjo soloist will be required to take out a license and wear his number on a brass collar about his neck. The wearing of cuffs on the ankles, stockings on the hands, or elastic vests, and the stuffing of garments with pil- lows in order to enhance the hilarity of the "tumbling" business, will sub- ject the offender to imprisonment with hard labor. A man may play "Within a Mile of Sweet Edinboro' Town " on the cor- net; but he must not play it within five miles of any other town. Transportation to Botany Bay is the punishment which awaits the girl who betrays the trust reposed in her by the populace by singing a song of all nations and waving flags. All songs of this description will be strictly prohibited, and there will be 144 OTHER TALES. a life sentence ready for the girl who sings one contain- ing the lines : ' 1 There was dear Robert Emmet, Who died for his green native shores." When capital punishment is decreed, the extreme penalty of the law will be inflicted by the audience. The culprit will be securely bound and carried to the nearest market-place, and there hung in the presence of the assembled multitude. In order to add to the ignominy of his death, a company of Swiss bell-ringers will play during his last agony. This punishment will be meted out only to the man who attempts to sing a comic song with a "part spoken" of this description: "Ain't I the cheese? Ain't I the cheese, Round by the Serpentine, under the trees? , Ain't I the cheese? Ain't I the cheese, \ t As I walk in the park with my darling Louise?" \Of (Spoken rapidly, and without a pause.) \ %t Yes she 's a dear good girl bless her I u took her to an oyster-saloon the other night *L and just look at me now — ( Turns pockets inside out, pulls out watch- - ^P~ v They socked it to him, I kin — tell ye. They rodded his haouse with enough stuff to fence in a grave-yard. They rodded his stable 'n' his barn \^\Jjl ' jt^^j^^Of$ 'n' he 'd wake up in tin ■ / ^~ mornin' to find six on •:- m 'n' his pigstye, 'n' it 's a