The Enchanted Typewriter Page 3

  III. FROM ADVANCE SHEETS OF BARON MUNCHAUSEN'S FURTHER RECOLLECTIONS

  It is with some very considerable hesitation that I come to thisportion of my personal recollections, and yet I feel that I owe it tomy fellow-citizens in this delightful Stygian country, where we areall enjoying our well-earned rest, to lay before them the exact truthconcerning certain incidents which have now passed into history, andfor participation in which a number of familiar figures are improperlygaining all the credit, or discredit, as the case may be. It is not apleasant task to expose an impostor; much less is it agreeable to exposefour impostors; but to one who from the earliest times--and when I sayearliest times I speak advisedly, as you will see as you read on--toone, I say, who from the earliest times has been actuated by no othermotive than the promulgation of truth, the task of exposing fraudbecomes a duty which cannot be ignored. Therefore, with regret I setdown this chapter of my memoirs, regardless of its consequences tocertain figures which have been of no inconsiderable importance in ourcommunity for many years--figures which in my own favorite club, theAssociated Shades, have been most welcome, but which, as I and theyalone know, have been nothing more than impostures.

  In previous volumes I have confined my attention to my memoirs as BaronMunchausen--but, dear reader, there are others. I WAS NOT ALWAYS BARONMUNCHAUSEN; I HAVE BEEN OTHERS! I am not aware that it has fallen to thelot of any but myself in the whole span of universal existence to livemore than one life upon that curious, compact little ball of landand water called the Earth, but, in any event, to me has fallen thatprivilege or distinction, or whatever it may be, and upon the recordmade by me in four separate existences, placed centuries apart, fourresidents of this sphere are basing their claims to notice, securingelection to our clubs, and even venturing so far at times as to makethemselves personally obnoxious to me, who with a word could exposetheir wicked deceit in all its naked villainy to an astounded community.And in taking this course they have gone too far. There is a limitbeyond which no man shall dare go with me. Satisfied with the ultimateembodiment of my virtues in the Baron Munchausen, I have been disposedto allow the impostors to pursue their deception in peace so long asthey otherwise behave themselves, but when Adam chooses to allude tomy writings as frothy lies, when Jonah attacks my right as a literaryperson to tell tales of leviathans, when Noah states that my ignorancein yachting matters is colossal, and when William Shakespeare publiclybrands me as a person unworthy of belief who should be expelled from theAssociated Shades, then do I consider it time to speak out and exposefour of the greatest frauds that have ever been inflicted upon along-suffering public.

  To begin at the beginning then, let me state that my first recollectiondates back to a beautiful summer morning, when in a lovely garden Iopened my eyes and became conscious of two very material facts: first, acharming woman arranging her hair in the mirror-like waters of a silverlake directly before me; and, second, a poignant pain in my side, asthough I had been operated upon for appendicitis, but which in realityresulted from the loss of a rib which had in turn evoluted into thecharming and very human being I now saw before me. That woman was Eve;that mirror-like lake was set in the midst of the Garden of Eden; I wasAdam, and not this watery-eyed antediluvian calling himself by my name,who is a familiar figure in the Anthropological Society, an authority onevolution, and a blot upon civilization.

  I have little to say about this first existence of mine. It was fullof delights. Speech not having been invented, Eve was an attractivecompanion to a man burdened as I was with responsibilities, and untilour children were born we went our way in happiness and silence. It isnot in the nature of things, however, that children should not wish totalk, and it was through the irrepressible efforts of Cain and Abelto be heard as well as seen that first called the attention of Eve andmyself to the desirability of expressing our thoughts in words ratherthan by masonic signs.

  I shall not burden my readers with further recollections of this period.It was excessively primitive, of necessity, but before leaving it I mustask the reader to put one or two questions to himself in this matter.

  1st. How is it that this bearded patriarch, who now poses as the onlyoriginal Adam, has never been able, with any degree of positiveness, toanswer the question as to whether or not he was provided with a caudalappendage--a question which I am prepared to answer definitely, at anymoment, if called upon by the proper authorities, and, if need be, toproduce not only the tail itself, but the fierce and untamed pterodactylthat bit it off upon that unfortunate autumn afternoon when he and I hadour first and last conflict.

  2d. Why is it that when describing a period concerning which he issupposed to know all, he seems to have given voice to sentiments inphrases which would have delighted Sheridan and shed added glory uponthe eloquence of Webster, AT A TIME WHEN, AS I HAVE ALREADY SHOWN, THEREWAS NO SUCH THING AS SPEECH?

  Upon these two points alone I rest my case against Adam: the first isthe reticence of guilt--he doesn't know, and he knows he doesn't know;the second is a deliberate and offensive prevarication, which showsagain that he doesn't know, and assumes that we are all equallyignorant.

  So much for Adam. Now for the cheap and year-ridden person who hastaken unto himself my second personality, Noah; and that other strangecombination of woe and wickedness, Jonah, who has chosen to pre-emptmy third. I shall deal with both at one and the same time, for, takenseparately, they are not worthy of notice.

  Noah asserts that I know nothing of yachting. I will accept the chargewith the qualification that I know a great sight more about Arking thanhe does; and as for Jonah, I can give Jonah points on whaling, and Ihereby challenge them both to a Memoir Match for $2000 a side, in gold,to see which can give to the world the most interesting reminiscencesconcerning the cruises of the two craft in question, the Ark and theWhale, upon neither of which did either of these two anachronisms everset foot, and of both of which I, in my two respective existences, wascommander-in-chief. The fact is that, as in the case of the fictitiousAdam, these two impersonators are frauds. The man now masquerading asNoah was my hired man in the latter part of the antediluvian period; wasdischarged three years before the flood; was left on shore at the hourof departure, and when last seen by me was sitting on the top of anapple-tree, begging to do two men's work for nothing if we'd only lethim out of the wet. If he will at any time submit to a cross-examinationat my hands as to the principal events of that memorable voyage, I willshow to any fair-minded judge how impossible is his claim that he wasin command, or even afloat, after the first week. I have hitherto keptsilent in this matter, in spite of many and repeated outrageous flings,for the sake of his--or rather my--family, who have been deceived,as have all the rest of us, barring, of course, myself. References toportraits of leading citizens of that period will easily show how thiscan be. We were all alike as two peas in the olden days, and at atime when men reached to an advanced age which is not known now, itfrequently became almost impossible to distinguish one old man fromanother. I will say, finally, in regard to this person Noah that if hecan give to the public a statement telling the essential differencesbetween a pterodactyl and a double spondee that will not prove utterlyabsurd to an educated person, I will withdraw my accusation and resignfrom the club. BUT I KNOW WELL HE CANNOT DO IT, and he does too, andthat is about the extent of his knowledge.

  Now as to Jonah. I really dislike very much to tread upon this worthy'stoes, and I should not do it had he not chosen to clap an injunctionupon a volume of Tales of the Whales, which I wrote for children lastsummer, claiming that I was infringing upon his copyright, and feelingthat I as a self-respecting man would never claim the discredit ofhaving myself been the person he claims to have been. I will candidlyconfess that I am not proud of my achievements as Jonah. I was a veryoily person even before I embarked upon the seas as Lord High Admiralof H.M.S. Leviathan. I was not a pleasant person to know. If I spentthe night with a friend, his roof would fall in or his house would burndown. If I bet on a horse, he would lead up to the home-s
tretch and falldown dead an inch from the finish. If I went into a stock speculation,I was invariably caught on a rising or a falling market. In my youth Ispoiled every yachting-party I went on by attracting a gale. When I cameout the moon went behind a cloud, and people who began by endorsing mypaper ended up in the poor-house. Commerce wouldn't have me. Boards ofTrade everywhere repudiated me, and I gradually sank into that state ofdespair which finds no solace anywhere but on the sea or in politics,and as politics was then unknown I went to sea. The result is knownto the world. I was cast overboard, ingulfed by a whale, which, in hisdefence let me be generous enough to say, swallowed me inadvertentlyand with the usual result. I came back, and life went on. Finally Icame here, and when it got to the ears of the authorities that I was inHades, they sent me back for the fourth time to earth in the person ofWilliam Shakespeare.

  That is the whole of the Jonah story. It is a sad story, and I regretit; and I am sorry for the impostor when I reflect that the character hehas assumed possesses attractions for him. His real life must havebeen a fearful thing if he is happy in his impersonation, and for hispunishment let us leave him where he is. Having told the truth, Ihave done my duty. I cheerfully resign my claim to the personality heclaims--I relinquish from this time on all right, title, and interest inthe name; but if he ever dares to interfere with me again in the use ofmy personal recollections concerning the inside of whales I shall halehim before the authorities.

  And now, finally, I come to Shakespeare, whom I have kept for the last,not because he was the last chronologically, but because I like to workup to a climax.

  Previous to my existence as Baron Munchausen I lived for a term of yearson earth as William Shakespeare, and what I have to say now is more inthe line of confession than otherwise.

  In my boyhood I was wild and I poached. If I were not afraid of havingit set down as a joke, I should say that I poached everything from eggsto deer. I was not a great joy to my parents. There was no deviltry inStratford in which I did not take a leading part, and finally, for thegood of Warwickshire, I was sent to London, where a person of my talentswas more likely to find congenial and appreciative surroundings. Aglance at such of my autographs as are now extant will demonstrate thefact that I never learned to write; a glance at the first folios of theplays attributed to me will likewise show that I never learned to spell;and yet I walked into London with one of the most exquisite poems in theEnglish language in my pocket. I am still filled with merriment over it.How was it, the critics of the years since have asked--how was it thatthis untutored little savage from leafy Warwickshire, with no trainingand little education, came into London with "Venus and Adonis" inmanuscript in his pocket? It is quite evident that the critic fraternityhave no Sherlock Holmes in their midst. It would not take much of aneye, a true detective's eye, to see the milk in that cocoanut, for itis but a simple tale after all. The way of it was this: On my wayfrom Stratford to London I walked through Coventry, and I remained inCoventry overnight. I was ill-clad and hungry, and, having no money withwhich to pay for my supper, I went to the Royal Arms Hotel and offeredmy services as porter for the night, having noted that a rich cavalcadefrom London, en route to Kenilworth, had arrived unexpectedly at theRoyal Arms. Taken by surprise, and, therefore, unprepared to accommodateso many guests, the landlord was glad to avail himself of my services,and I was assigned to the position of boots. Among others whom I servedwas Walter Raleigh, who, noting my ragged condition and hearing what aroisterer and roustabout I had been, immediately took pity upon me, andgave me a plum-colored court-suit with which he was through, and whichI accepted, put upon my back, and next day wore off to London. It wasin the pocket of this that I found the poem of "Venus and Adonis." Thatpoem, to keep myself from starving, I published when I reached London,sending a complimentary copy of course to my benefactor. When Raleighsaw it he was naturally surprised but gratified, and on his return toLondon he sought me out, and suggested the publication of his sonnets.I was the first man he'd met, he said, who was willing to publish hisstuff on his own responsibility. I immediately put out some of thesonnets, and in time was making a comfortable living, publishing theanonymous works of most of the young bucks about town, who paid well formy imprint. That the public chose to think the works were mine was noneof my fault. I never claimed them, and the line on the title-page, "ByWilliam Shakespeare," had reference to the publisher only, and not, asmany have chosen to believe, to the author. Thus were published LordBacon's "Hamlet," Raleigh's poems, several plays of Messrs. Beaumontand Fletcher--who were themselves among the cleverest adapters of thetimes--and the rest of that glorious monument to human credulity andmemorial to an impossible, wholly apocryphal genius, known as the worksof William Shakespeare. The extent of my writing during this incarnationwas ten autographs for collectors, and one attempt at a comic operacalled "A Midsummer's Nightmare," which was never produced, because noone would write the music for it, and which was ultimately destroyedwith three of my quatrains and all of Bacon's evidence against myauthorship of "Hamlet," in the fire at the Globe Theatre in the year1613.

  These, then, dear reader, are the revelations which I have to make.In my next incarnation I was the man I am now known to be, BaronMunchausen. As I have said, I make the exposure with regret, but thearrogance of these impudent impersonators of my various personalitieshas grown too great to be longer borne. I lay the simple story of theirvillany before you for what it is worth. I have done my duty. If afterthis exposure the public of Hades choose to receive them in their homesand at their clubs, and as guests at their functions, they will do itwith a full knowledge of their duplicity.

  In conclusion, fearing lest there be some doubters among the readersof this paper, I have allowed my friend, the editor of this esteemedjournal, which is to publish this story exclusively on Sunday next, freeaccess to my archives, and he has selected as exhibits of evidence, towhich I earnestly call your attention, the originals of the cuts whichillustrate this chapter--viz:

  I. A full-length portrait of Eve as she appeared at our first meeting.

  II. Portraits of Cain and Abel at the ages of two, five, and seven.

  III. The original plans and specifications of the Ark.

  IV. Facsimile of her commission.

  V. Portrait-sketch of myself and the false Noah, made at the time, andshowing how difficult it would have been for any member of my family,save myself, to tell us apart.

  VI. A cathode-ray photograph of the whale, showing myself, the originalJonah, seated inside.

  VII. Facsimiles of the Shakespeare autographs, proving that he knewneither how to write nor to spell, and so of course proving effectuallythat I was not the author of his works.

  It must be confessed that I read this article of Munchausen's withamazement, and I awaited with much excited curiosity the coming again ofthe manipulator of my type-writing machine. Surely a revelation of thisnature should create a sensation in Hades, and I was anxious to learnhow it was received. Boswell did not materialize, however, and for fivenights I fairly raged with the fever of curiosity, but on the sixthnight the familiar tinkle of the bell announced an arrival, and I flewto the machine and breathlessly cried:

  "Hullo, old chap, how did it come out?"

  The reply was as great a surprise as I have yet had, for it was notBoswell, Jim Boswell, who answered my question.