The Pursuit of the House-Boat Page 4
IV
ON BOARD THE HOUSE-BOAT
Meanwhile the ladies were not having such a bad time, after all. Oncehaving gained possession of the House-boat, they were loath to think ofever having to give it up again, and it is an open question in my mind ifthey would not have made off with it themselves had Captain Kidd and hismen not done it for them.
"I'll never forgive these men for their selfishness in monopolizing allthis," said Elizabeth, with a vicious stroke of a billiard-cue, whichmissed the cue-ball and tore a right angle in the cloth. "It is notright."
"No," said Portia. "It is all wrong; and when we get back home I'm goingto give my beloved Bassanio a piece of my mind; and if he doesn't give into me, I'll reverse my decision in the famous case of Shylock _versus_Antonio."
"Then I sincerely hope he doesn't give in," retorted Cleopatra, "for Iswear by all my auburn locks that that was the very worst bit of injusticeever perpetrated. Mr. Shakespeare confided to me one night, at one of Mrs.Caesar's card-parties, that he regarded that as the biggest joke he everwrote, and Judge Blackstone observed to Antony that the decision wouldn'thave held in any court of equity outside of Venice. If you owe a man athousand ducats, and it costs you three thousand to get them, that's youraffair, not his. If it cost Antonio every drop of his bluest blood to paythe pound of flesh, it was Antonio's affair, not Shylock's. However, theworld applauds you as a great jurist, when you have nothing more than awoman's keen instinct for sentimental technicalities."
"It would have made a horrid play, though, if it had gone on," shudderedElizabeth.
"That may be, but, carried out realistically, it would have done away witha raft of bad actors," said Cleopatra. "I'm half sorry it didn't go on,and I'm sure it wouldn't have been any worse than compelling Brutus tofall on his sword until he resembles a chicken liver _en brochette_, as isdone in that Julius Caesar play."
"Well, I'm very glad I did it," snapped Portia.
"I should think you would be," said Cleopatra. "If you hadn't done it,you'd never have been known. What was that?"
The boat had given a slight lurch.
"Didn't you hear a shuffling noise up on deck, Portia?" asked the EgyptianQueen.
"I thought I did, and it seemed as if the vessel had moved a bit,"returned Portia, nervously; for, like most women in an advanced state ofdevelopment, she had become a martyr to her nerves.
"It was merely the wash from one of Charon's new ferry-boats, I fancy,"said Elizabeth, calmly. "It's disgusting, the way that old fellow allowsthese modern innovations to be brought in here! As if the old paddle-boatshe used to carry shades in weren't good enough for the immigrants of thisage! Really this Styx River is losing a great deal of its charm. SirWalter and I were upset, while out rowing one day last summer, by thewaves kicked up by one of Charon's excursion steamers going up the riverwith a party of picnickers from the city--the Greater Gehenna ChowderClub, I believe it was--on board of her. One might just as well live inthe midst of the turmoil of a great city as try to get uninterrupted quiethere in the suburbs in these days. Charon isn't content to get richslowly; he must make money by the barrelful, if he has to sacrifice allthe comfort of everybody living on this river. Anybody'd think he was anAmerican, the way he goes on; and everybody else here is the same way. TheErebeans are getting to be a race of shopkeepers."
"I think myself," sighed Cleopatra, "that Hades is being spoiled by theintroduction of American ideas--it is getting by far too democratic for mytastes; and if it isn't stopped, it's my belief that the best people willstop coming here. Take Madame Recamier's salon as it is now and compare itwith what it used to be! In the early days, after her arrival here,everybody went because it was the swell thing, and you'd be sure ofmeeting the intellectually elect. On the one hand you'd find Sophocles; onthe other, Cicero; across the room would be Horace chatting gayly withsome such person as myself. Great warriors, from Alexander to Bonaparte,were there, and glad of the opportunity to be there, too; statesmen likeMacchiavelli; artists like Cellini or Tintoretto. You couldn't movewithout stepping on the toes of genius. But now all is different. Themoney-getting instinct has been aroused within them all, with the resultthat when I invited Mozart to meet a few friends at dinner at my placelast autumn, he sent me a card stating his terms for dinners. Let me see,I think I have it with me; I've kept it by me for fear of losing it, it issuch a complete revelation of the actual condition of affairs in thislocality. Ah! this is it," she added, taking a small bit of paste-boardfrom her card-case. "Read that."
The card was passed about, and all the ladies were much astonished--andnaturally so, for it ran this wise:
-------------------------------------------------- | NOTICE TO HOSTESSES. | | | | Owing to the very great, constantly growing, | | and at times vexatious demands upon his time | | socially, | | | | HERR WOLFGANG AMADEUS MOZART | | | | takes this method of announcing to his | | friends that on and after January 1, 1897, | | his terms for functions will be as follows: | | | | Marks. | | Dinners with conversation on the | | Theory of Music ................. 500 | | Dinners with conversation on the | | Theory of Music, illustrated .... 750 | | Dinners without any conversation .. 300 | | Receptions, public, with music .... 1000 | | " private, " ...... 750 | | Encores (single) .................. 100 | | Three encores for ................. 150 | | Autographs ........................ 10 | | | | Positively no Invitations for Five-o'Clock | | Teas or Morning Musicales considered. | --------------------------------------------------
"Well, I declare!" tittered Elizabeth, as she read. "Isn't thatextraordinary? He's got the three-name craze, too!"
"It's perfectly ridiculous," said Cleopatra. "But it's fairer than ArtemusWard's plan. Mozart gives notice of his intentions to charge you; but withWard it's different. He comes, and afterwards sends a bill for his fun.Why, only last week I got a 'quarterly statement' from him showing acharge against me of thirty-eight dollars for humorous remarks made to myguests at a little chafing-dish party I gave in honor of Balzac, and,worst of all, he had marked it 'Please remit.' Even Antony, when he wrotea sonnet to my eyebrow, wouldn't let me have it until he had heard whetheror not Boswell wanted it for publication in the _Gossip_. With Rubensgiving chalk-talks for pay, Phidias doing 'Five-minute Masterpieces inPutty' for suburban lyceums, and all the illustrious in other linesturning their genius to account through the entertainment bureaus, it'simpossible to have a salon now."
"You are indeed right," said Madame Recamier, sadly. "Those were palmydays when genius was satisfied with chicken salad and lemonade. I shallnever forget those nights when the wit and wisdom of all timewere--ah--were on tap at my house, if I may so speak, at a cost to me oflights and supper. Now the only people who will come for nothing are thosewe used to think of paying to stay away. Boswell is always ready, but youcan't run a salon on Boswell."
"Well," said Portia, "I sincerely hope that you won't give up thefunctions altogether, because I have always found them most delightful. Itis still possible to have lights and supper."
"I have a plan for next winter," said Madame Recamier, "but I suppose Ishall be accused of going into the commercial side of it if I adopt it.The plan is, briefly, to incorporate my salon. That's an idea worthy of anAmerican, I admit; but if I don't do it I'll have to give it up entirely,which, as you intimate, would be too bad. An incorporated salon, however,would be a grand thing, if only because it would perpetuate the salon.'The Recamier Salon (Limited)' would be a most excellent title, and,suitably capitalized, would enabl
e us to pay our lions sufficiently.Private enterprise is powerless under modern conditions. It's as much as Ican afford to pay for a dinner, without running up an expense account forguests; and unless we get up a salon trust, as it were, the whole affairmust go to the wall."
MADAME RECAMIER HAS A PLAN]
"How would you make it pay?" asked Portia. "I can't see where yourdividends would come from."
"That is simple enough," said Madame Recamier. "We could put up a largereception-hall with a portion of our capital, and advertise a series ofnights--say one a week throughout the season. These would be Warriors'Night, Story-tellers' Night, Poets' Night, Chafing-dish Night under thecharge of Brillat-Savarin, and so on. It would be understood that on theseparticular evenings the most interesting people in certain lines would bepresent, and would mix with outsiders, who should be admitted only onpayment of a certain sum of money. The commonplace inhabitants of thiscountry could thus meet the truly great; and if I know them well, as Ithink I do, they'll pay readily for the privilege. The obscure love to rubup against the famous here as well as they do on earth."
"You'd run a sort of Social Zoo?" suggested Elizabeth.
"Precisely; and provide entertainment for private residences too. Anadvertisement in Boswell's paper, which everybody buys--"
"And which nobody reads," said Portia.
"They read the advertisements," retorted Madame Recamier. "As I wassaying, an advertisement could be placed in Boswell's paper as follows:'Are you giving a Function? Do you want Talent? Get your Genius at theRecamier Salon (Limited).' It would be simply magnificent as a businessenterprise. The common herd would be tickled to death if they could getgreat people at their homes, even if they had to pay roundly for them."
"It would look well in the society notes, wouldn't it, if Mr. John Boggsgave a reception, and at the close of the account it said, 'The supper wasfurnished by Calizetti, and the genius by the Recamier Salon (Limited)'?"suggested Elizabeth, scornfully.
"I must admit," replied the French lady, "that you call up an unpleasantpossibility, but I don't really see what else we can do if we want topreserve the salon idea. Somebody has told these talented people that theyhave a commercial value, and they are availing themselves of the demand."
"It is a sad age!" sighed Elizabeth.
"Well, all I've got to say is just this," put in Xanthippe: "You peoplewho get up functions have brought this condition of affairs on yourselves.You were not satisfied to go ahead and indulge your passion for lions in amoderate fashion. Take the case of Demosthenes last winter, for instance.His wife told me that he dined at home three times during the winter. Therest of the time he was out, here, there, and everywhere, makingafter-dinner speeches. The saving on his dinner bills didn't pay hispebble account, much less remunerate him for his time, and the fearfulexpense of nervous energy to which he was subjected. It was as much as shecould do, she said, to keep him from shaving one side of his head, so thathe couldn't go out, the way he used to do in Athens when he was afraid hewould be invited out and couldn't scare up a decent excuse for refusing."
"Did he do that?" cried Elizabeth, with a roar of laughter.
"So the cyclopaedias say. It's a good plan, too," said Xanthippe. "ThoughSocrates never had to do it. When I got the notion Socrates was going outtoo much, I used to hide his dress clothes. Then there was the case ofRubens. He gave a Carbon Talk at the Sforza's Thursday Night Club, merelyto oblige Madame Sforza, and three weeks later discovered that she hadsold his pictures to pay for her gown! You people simply run it into theground. You kill the goose that when taken at the flood leads on tofortune. It advertises you, does the lion no good, and he is expected tobe satisfied with confectionery, material and theoretical. If they aregetting tired of candy and compliments, it's because you have forced toomuch of it upon them."
"They like it, just the same," retorted Recamier. "A genius likes nothingbetter than the sound of his own voice, when he feels that it is fallingon aristocratic ears. The social laurel rests pleasantly on many a noblebrow."
"True," said Xanthippe. "But when a man gets a pile of Christmas wreaths amile high on his head, he begins to wonder what they will bring on themarket. An occasional wreath is very nice, but by the ton they are apt toweigh on his mind. Up to a certain point notoriety is like a woman, and aman is apt to love it; but when it becomes exacting, demanding instead ofpermitting itself to be courted, it loses its charm."
"That is Socratic in its wisdom," smiled Portia.
"But Xanthippic in its origin," returned Xanthippe. "No man ever gave memy ideas."
As Xanthippe spoke, Lucretia Borgia burst into the room.
"Hurry and save yourselves!" she cried. "The boat has broken loose fromher moorings, and is floating down the stream. If we don't hurry up and dosomething, we'll drift out to sea!"
"What!" cried Cleopatra, dropping her cue in terror, and rushing for thestairs. "I was certain I felt a slight motion. You said it was the washfrom one of Charon's barges, Elizabeth."
"I thought it was," said Elizabeth, following closely after.
"Well, it wasn't," moaned Lucretia Borgia. "Calpurnia just looked out ofthe window and discovered that we were in mid-stream."
The ladies crowded anxiously about the stair and attempted to ascend,Cleopatra in the van; but as the Egyptian Queen reached the doorway to theupper deck, the door opened, and the hard features of Captain Kidd werethrust roughly through, and his strident voice rang out through thegathering gloom. "Pipe my eye for a sardine if we haven't captured afemale seminary!" he cried.
"THE HARD FEATURES OF KIDD WERE THRUST THROUGH"]
And one by one the ladies, in terror, shrank back into the billiard-room,while Kidd, overcome by surprise, slammed the door to, and retreated intothe darkness of the forward deck to consult with his followers as to "whatnext."