the uncommercial traveller-第59章

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the　cellar；　concluding　with　the　songsters　of　the　grove；　and　the

Concert　of　domestic　Farm…yard　animals。'　　All　this　done；　and　well

done；　Monsieur　the　Ventriloquist　withdraws；　and　Monsieur　the　Face…

Maker　bursts　in；　as　if　his　retiring…room　were　a　mile　long　instead

of　a　yard。　　A　corpulent　little　man　in　a　large　white　waistcoat；　with

a　comic　countenance；　and　with　a　wig　in　his　hand。　　Irreverent

disposition　to　laugh；　instantly　checked　by　the　tremendous　gravity

of　the　Face…Maker；　who　intimates　in　his　bow　that　if　we　expect　that

sort　of　thing　we　are　mistaken。　　A　very　little　shaving…glass　with　a

leg　behind　it　is　handed　in；　and　placed　on　the　table　before　the

Face…Maker。　　'Messieurs　et　Mesdames；　with　no　other　assistance　than

this　mirror　and　this　wig；　I　shall　have　the　honour　of　showing　you　a

thousand　characters。'　　As　a　preparation；　the　Face…Maker　with　both

hands　gouges　himself；　and　turns　his　mouth　inside　out。　　He　then

becomes　frightfully　grave　again；　and　says　to　the　Proprietor；　'I　am

ready！'　　Proprietor　stalks　forth　from　baleful　reverie；　and

announces　'The　Young　Conscript！'　　Face…Maker　claps　his　wig　on；　hind

side　before；　looks　in　the　glass；　and　appears　above　it　as　a

conscript　so　very　imbecile；　and　squinting　so　extremely　hard；　that　I

should　think　the　State　would　never　get　any　good　of　him。　　Thunders

of　applause。　　Face…Maker　dips　behind　the　looking…glass；　brings　his

own　hair　forward；　is　himself　again；　is　awfully　grave。　　'A

distinguished　inhabitant　of　the　Faubourg　St。　Germain。'　　Face…Maker

dips；　rises；　is　supposed　to　be　aged；　blear…eyed；　toothless；

slightly　palsied；　supernaturally　polite；　evidently　of　noble　birth。

'The　oldest　member　of　the　Corps　of　Invalides　on　the　fete…day　of　his

master。'　　Face…Maker　dips；　rises；　wears　the　wig　on　one　side；　has

become　the　feeblest　military　bore　in　existence；　and　（it　is　clear）

would　lie　frightfully　about　his　past　achievements；　if　he　were　not

confined　to　pantomime。　　'The　Miser！'　　Face…Maker　dips；　rises；

clutches　a　bag；　and　every　hair　of　the　wig　is　on　end　to　express　that

he　lives　in　continual　dread　of　thieves。　　'The　Genius　of　France！'

Face…Maker　dips；　rises；　wig　pushed　back　and　smoothed　flat；　little

cocked…hat　（artfully　concealed　till　now）　put　a…top　of　it；　Face…

Maker's　white　waistcoat　much　advanced；　Face…Maker's　left　hand　in

bosom　of　white　waistcoat；　Face…Maker's　right　hand　behind　his　back。

Thunders。　　This　is　the　first　of　three　positions　of　the　Genius　of

France。　　In　the　second　position；　the　Face…Maker　takes　snuff；　in　the

third；　rolls　up　his　fight　hand；　and　surveys　illimitable　armies

through　that　pocket…glass。　　The　Face…Maker　then；　by　putting　out　his

tongue；　and　wearing　the　wig　nohow　in　particular；　becomes　the

Village　Idiot。　　The　most　remarkable　feature　in　the　whole　of　his

ingenious　performance；　is；　that　whatever　he　does　to　disguise

himself；　has　the　effect　of　rendering　him　rather　more　like　himself

than　he　was　at　first。



There　were　peep…shows　in　this　Fair；　and　I　had　the　pleasure　of

recognising　several　fields　of　glory　with　which　I　became　well

acquainted　a　year　or　two　ago　as　Crimean　battles；　now　doing　duty　as

Mexican　victories。　　The　change　was　neatly　effected　by　some　extra

smoking　of　the　Russians；　and　by　permitting　the　camp　followers　free

range　in　the　foreground　to　despoil　the　enemy　of　their　uniforms。　　As

no　British　troops　had　ever　happened　to　be　within　sight　when　the

artist　took　his　original　sketches；　it　followed　fortunately　that

none　were　in　the　way　now。



The　Fair　wound　up　with　a　ball。　　Respecting　the　particular　night　of

the　week　on　which　the　ball　took　place；　I　decline　to　commit　myself；

merely　mentioning　that　it　was　held　in　a　stable…yard　so　very　close

to　the　railway；　that　it　was　a　mercy　the　locomotive　did　not　set　fire

to　it。　　（In　Scotland；　I　suppose；　it　would　have　done　so。）　　There；　in

a　tent　prettily　decorated　with　looking…glasses　and　a　myriad　of　toy

flags；　the　people　danced　all　night。　It　was　not　an　expensive

recreation；　the　price　of　a　double　ticket　for　a　cavalier　and　lady

being　one　and　threepence　in　English　money；　and　even　of　that　small

sum　fivepence　was　reclaimable　for　'consommation：'　which　word　I

venture　to　translate　into　refreshments　of　no　greater　strength；　at

the　strongest；　than　ordinary　wine　made　hot；　with　sugar　and　lemon　in

it。　　It　was　a　ball　of　great　good　humour　and　of　great　enjoyment；

though　very　many　of　the　dancers　must　have　been　as　poor　as　the

fifteen　subjects　of　the　P。　Salcy　Family。



In　short；　not　having　taken　my　own　pet　national　pint　pot　with　me　to

this　Fair；　I　was　very　well　satisfied　with　the　measure　of　simple

enjoyment　that　it　poured　into　the　dull　French…Flemish　country　life。

How　dull　that　is；　I　had　an　opportunity　of　considering　　…　when　the

Fair　was　over　…　when　the　tri…coloured　flags　were　withdrawn　from　the

windows　of　the　houses　on　the　Place　where　the　Fair　was　held　…　when

the　windows　were　close　shut；　apparently　until　next　Fair…time　…　when

the　Hotel　de　Ville　had　cut　off　its　gas　and　put　away　its　eagle　…

when　the　two　paviours；　whom　I　take　to　form　the　entire　paving

population　of　the　town；　were　ramming　down　the　stones　which　had　been

pulled　up　for　the　erection　of　decorative　poles　…　when　the　jailer

had　slammed　his　gate；　and　sulkily　locked　himself　in　with　his

charges。　　But　then；　as　I　paced　the　ring　which　marked　the　track　of

the　departed　hobby…horses　on　the　market…place；　pondering　in　my　mind

how　long　some　hobby…horses　do　leave　their　tracks　in　public　ways；

and　how　difficult　they　are　to　erase；　my　eyes　were　greeted　with　a

goodly　sight。　　I　beheld　four　male　personages　thoughtfully　pacing

the　Place　together；　in　the　sunlight；　evidently　not　belonging　to　the

town；　and　having　upon　them　a　certain　loose　cosmopolitan　air　of　not

belonging　to　any　town。　　One　was　clad　in　a　suit　of　white　canvas；

another　in　a　cap　and　blouse；　the　third　in　an　old　military　frock；

the　fourth　in　a　shapeless　dress　that　looked　as　if　it　had　been　made

out　of　old　umbrellas。　　All　wore　dust…coloured　shoes。　　My　heart　beat

high；　for；　in　those　four　male　personages；　although　complexionless

and　eyebrowless；　I　beheld　four　subjects　of　the　Family　P。　Salcy。

Blue…bearded　though　they　were；　and　bereft　of　the　youthful

smoothness　of　cheek　which　is　imparted　by　what　is　termed　in　Albion　a

'Whitechapel　shave'　（and　which　is；　in　fact；　whitening；　judiciously

applied　to　the　jaws　with　the　palm　of　the　hand）；　I　recognised　them。

As　I　stood　admiring；　there　emerged　from　the　yard　of　a　lowly

Cabaret；　the　excellent　Ma　Mere；　Ma　Mere；　with　the　words；　'The　soup

is　served；'　words　which　so　elated　the　subject　in　the　canvas　suit；

that　when　they　all　ran　in　to　partake；　he　went　last；　dancing　with

his　hands　stuck　angularly　into　the　pockets　of　his　canvas　trousers；

after　the　Pierrot　manner。　　Glancing　down　the　Yard；　the　last　I　saw

of　him　was；　that　he　looked　in　through　a　window　（at　the　soup；　no

doubt）　on　one　leg。



Full　of　this　pleasure；　I　shortly　afterwards　departed　from　the　town；

little　dreaming　of　an　addition　to　my　good　fortune。　　But　more　was　in

reserve。　　I　went　by　a　train　which　was　heavy　with　third…class

carriages；　full　of　young　fellows　（well　guarded）　who　had　drawn

unlucky　numbers　in　the　last　conscription；　and　were　on　their　way　to

a　famous　French　garrison　town　where　much　of　the　raw　military

material　is　worked　up　into　soldiery。　　At　the　station　they　had　been

sitting　about；　in　their　threadbare　homespun　blue　garments；　with

their　poor　little　bundles　under　their　arms；　covered　with　dust　and

clay；　and　the　various　soils　of　France；　sad　enough　at　heart；　most　of

them；　but　putting　a　good　face　upon　it；　and　slapping　their　breasts

and　singing　choruses　on　the　smallest　provocation；　the　gayest

spirits　shouldering　half　loaves　of　black　bread　speared　upon　their

walking…sticks。　　As　we　went　along；　they　were　audible　at　every

station；　chorusing　wildly　out　of　tune；　and　feigning　the　highest

hilarity。　　After　a　while；　however；　they　began　to　leave　off　singing；

and　to　laugh　naturally；　while　at　intervals　there　mingled　with　their

laughter　the　barking　of　a　dog。　　Now；　I　had　to　alight　short　of　their

destination；　and；　as　that　stoppage　of　the　train　was　attended　with　a

quantity　of　horn　blowing；　bell　ringing；　and　proclamation　of　what

Messieurs　les　Voyageurs　were　to　do；　and　were　not　to　do；　in　order　to

reach　their　respective　destinations；　I　had　ample　leisure　to　go

forward　on　the　platform　to　take　a　parting　look　at　my　recruits；

whose　heads　were　all　out　at　window；　and　who　were　laughing　like

delighted　children。　　Then　I　perceived　that　a　large　poodle　with　a

pink　nose；　who　had　been　their　travelling　companion　and　the　cause　of

their　mirth；　stood　on　his　hind…legs　presenting　arms　on　the　extreme

verge　of　the　platform；　ready　to　salute　them　as　the　train　went　off。

This　poodle　wore　a　military　shako　（it　is　unnecessary　to　add；　very

much　on　one　side　over　one　eye）；　a　little　military　coat；　and　the

regulation　white　gaiters。　　He　was　armed　with　a　little　musket　and　a

little　sword…bayonet；　and　he　stood　presenting　arms　in　perfect

attitude；　with　his　unobscured　eye　on　his　master　or　superior

officer；　who　stood　by　him。　　So　admirable　was　his　discipline；　that；

when　the　train　moved；　and　he　was　greeted　with　the　parting　cheers　of

the　recruits；　and　also　with　a　shower　of　centimes；　several　of　which

struck　his　shako；　and　had　a　tendency　to　discompose　him；　he　remained

staunch　on　his　post；　until　the　train　was　gone。　　He　then　resigned

his　arms　to　his　officer；　took　off　his　shako　by　rubbing　his　paw　over

it；　dropped　on　four　legs；　bringing　his　uniform　coat　into　the

absurdest　relations　with　the　overarching　skies；　and　ran　about　the

platform　in　his　white　gaiters；　waging　his　tail　to　an　exceeding

great　extent。　　It　struck　me　that　there　was　more　waggery　than　this

in　the　poodle；　and　that　he　knew　that　the　recruits　would　neither　get

through　their　exercises；　nor　get　rid　of　their　uniforms；　as　easily

as　he；　revolving　which　in　my　thoughts；　and　seeking　in　my　pockets

some　small　money　to　bestow　upon　him；　I　casually　directed　my　eyes　to

the　face　of　his　superior　officer；　and　in　him　beheld　the　Face…Maker！

Though　it　was　not　the　way　to　Algeria；　but　quite　the　reverse；　the

military　poodle's　Colonel　was　the　Face…Maker　in　a　dark　blouse；　with

a　small　bundle　dangling　over　his　shoulder　at　the　end　of　an

umbrella；　and　taking　a　pipe　from　his　breast　to　smoke　as　he　and　the

poodle　went　their　mysterious　way。







CHAPTER　XXVIII　…　MEDICINE　MEN　OF　CIVILISATION







My　voyages　（in　paper　boats）　among　savages　often　yield　me　matter　for

reflection　at　home。　　It　is　curious　to　trace　the　savage　in　the

civilised　man；　and　to　detect　the　hold　of　some　savage　customs　on

conditions　of　society　rather　boastful　of　being　high　above　them。



I　wonder；　is　the　Medicine　Man　of　the　North　American　Indians　never

to　be　got　rid　of；　out　of　the　North　American　country？　　He　comes　into

my　Wigwam　on　all　manner　of　occasions；　and　with　the　absurdest

'Medicine。'　　I　always　find　it　extremely　difficult；　and　I　often　find

it　simply　impossible；　to　keep　him　out　of　my　Wi