The Pursuit of the House-Boat by John Kendrick Bangs (ebook reader macos TXT) đ
- Author: John Kendrick Bangs
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âThat suggestion is impossible,â said Blackstone, rising. âWhether the relief expedition amounts to anything or not, itâs good to be set going. The ladies would never forgive us if we sat here inactive, even if they were capable of rescuing themselves. It is an accepted principle of law that this climate hath no fury like a woman left to herself, and weâve got enough professional furies hereabouts without our aiding in augmenting the ranks. We must have a boat.â
âItâll cost you a thousand dollars a week,â said Charon.
âIâll subscribe fifty,â cried Hamlet.
âIâll consult my secretary,â said Solomon, âand find out how many of my wives have been abducted, and Iâll pay ten dollars apiece for their recovery.â
âThatâs liberal,â said Hawkshaw. âThere are sixty-three of âem on board, together with eighty of his fiancĂ©es. Whatâs the quotation on fiancĂ©es, King Solomon?â
âNothing,â said Solomon. âTheyâre not mine yet, and itâs their fatherâs business to get âem back. Not mine.â
Other subscriptions came pouring in, and it was not long before everybody save Shylock had put his name down for something. This some one of the more quick-witted of the spirits soon observed, and, with reckless disregard of the feelings of the Merchant of Venice, began to call, âShylock! Shylock! How much?â
The Merchant tried to leave the pier, but his path was blocked.
âSubscribe, subscribe!â was the cry. âHow much?â
âOrder, gentlemen, order!â said Sir Walter, rising and holding a bottle aloft. âA black person by the name of Friday, a valet of our friend Mr. Crusoe, has just handed me this bottle, which he picked up ten minutes ago on the bank of the river a few miles distant. It contains a bit of paper, and may perhaps give us a clew based upon something more substantial than even the wonderful theories of our new brother Holmes.â
A deathly silence followed the chairmanâs words, as Sir Walter drew a corkscrew from his pocket and opened the bottle. He extracted the paper, and, as he had surmised, it proved to be a message from the missing vessel. His face brightening with a smile of relief, Sir Walter read, aloud:
âHave just emerged into the Atlantic Club in hands of Kidd and forty ruffians. One hundred and eighty-three ladies on board. Headed for the Azores. Send aid at once. All well except Xanthippe, who is seasick in the billiard-room. (Signed) Portia.â
âAha!â cried Hawkshaw. âThat shows how valuable the Holmes theory is.â
âPrecisely,â said Holmes. âNo woman knows anything about seafaring, but Portia is right. The ship is headed for the Azores, which is the first tack needed in a windward sail for London under the present conditions.â
The reply was greeted with cheers, and when they subsided the cry for Shylockâs subscription began again, but he declined.
âI had intended to put up a thousand ducats,â he said, defiantly, âbut with that woman Portia on board I wonât give a red obolus!â and with that he wrapped his cloak about him and stalked off into the gathering shadows of the wood.
And so the funds were raised without the aid of Shylock, and the shapely twin-screw steamer the Gehenna was chartered of Charon, and put under the command of Mr. Sherlock Holmes, who, after he had thanked the company for their confidence, walked abstractedly away, observing in strictest confidence to himself that he had done well to prepare that bottle beforehand and bribe Crusoeâs man to find it.
âFor now,â he said, with a chuckle, âI can get back to earth again free of cost on my own hook, whether my eminent inventor wants me there or not. I never approved of his killing me off as he did at the very height of my popularity.â
p. 58IVON BOARD THE HOUSE-BOAT
Meanwhile the ladies were not having such a bad time, after all. Once having gained possession of the House-boat, they were loath to think of ever having to give it up again, and it is an open question in my mind if they would not have made off with it themselves had Captain Kidd and his men not done it for them.
âIâll never forgive these men for their selfishness in monopolizing all this,â said Elizabeth, with a vicious stroke of a billiard-cue, which missed the cue-ball and tore a right angle in the cloth. âIt is not right.â
âNo,â said Portia. âIt is all wrong; and when we get back home Iâm going to give my beloved Bassanio a piece of my mind; and if he doesnât give in to me, Iâll reverse my decision in the famous case of Shylock versus Antonio.â
âThen I sincerely hope he doesnât give in,â retorted Cleopatra, âfor I swear by all my auburn locks that that was the very worst bit of injustice ever perpetrated. Mr. Shakespeare confided to me one night, at one of Mrs. CĂŠsarâs card-parties, that he regarded that as the biggest joke he ever wrote, and Judge Blackstone observed to Antony that the decision wouldnât have held in any court of equity outside of Venice. If you owe a man a thousand ducats, and it costs you three thousand to get them, thatâs your affair, not his. If it cost Antonio every drop of his bluest blood to pay the pound of flesh, it was Antonioâs affair, not Shylockâs. However, the world applauds you as a great jurist, when you have nothing more than a womanâs keen instinct for sentimental technicalities.â
âIt would have made a horrid play, though, if it had gone on,â shuddered Elizabeth.
âThat may be, but, carried out realistically, it would have done away with a raft of bad actors,â said Cleopatra. âIâm half sorry it didnât go on, and Iâm sure it wouldnât have been any worse than compelling Brutus to fall on his sword until he resembles a chicken liver en brochette, as is done in that Julius CĂŠsar play.â
âWell, Iâm very glad I did it,â snapped Portia.
âI should think you would be,â said Cleopatra. âIf you hadnât done it, youâd never have been known. What was that?â
The boat had given a slight lurch.
âDidnât you hear a shuffling noise up on deck, Portia?â asked the Egyptian Queen.
âI thought I did, and it seemed as if the vessel had moved a bit,â returned Portia, nervously; for, like most women in an advanced state of development, she had become a martyr to her nerves.
âIt was merely the wash from one of Charonâs new ferry-boats, I fancy,â said Elizabeth, calmly. âItâs disgusting, the way that old fellow allows these modern innovations to be brought in here! As if the old paddle-boats he used to carry shades in werenât good enough for the immigrants of this age! Really this Styx River is losing a great deal of its charm. Sir Walter and I were upset, while out rowing one day last summer, by the waves kicked up by one of Charonâs excursion steamers going up the river with a party of picnickers from the cityâthe Greater Gehenna Chowder Club, I believe it wasâon board of her. One might just as well live in the midst of the turmoil of a great city as try to get uninterrupted quiet here in the suburbs in these days. Charon isnât content to get rich slowly; he must make money by the barrelful, if he has to sacrifice all the comfort of everybody living on this river. Anybodyâd think he was an American, the way he goes on; and everybody else here is the same way. The Erebeans are getting to be a race of shopkeepers.â
âI think myself,â sighed Cleopatra, âthat Hades is being spoiled by the introduction of American ideasâit is getting by far too democratic for my tastes; and if it isnât stopped, itâs my belief that the best people will stop coming here. Take Madame RĂ©camierâs salon as it is now and compare it with what it used to be! In the early days, after her arrival here, everybody went because it was the swell thing, and youâd be sure of meeting the intellectually elect. On the one hand youâd find Sophocles; on the other, Cicero; across the room would be Horace chatting gayly with some such person as myself. Great warriors, from Alexander to Bonaparte, were there, and glad of the opportunity to be there, too; statesmen like Macchiavelli; artists like Cellini or Tintoretto. You couldnât move without stepping on the toes of genius. But now all is different. The money-getting instinct has been aroused within them all, with the result that when I invited Mozart to meet a few friends at dinner at my place last autumn, he sent me a card stating his terms for dinners. Let me see, I think I have it with me; Iâve kept it by me for fear of losing it, it is such a complete revelation of the actual condition of affairs in this locality. Ah! this is it,â she added, taking a small bit of pasteboard from her card-case. âRead that.â
The card was passed about, and all the ladies were much astonishedâand naturally 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-oâClock Teas or Morning Musicales considered.
âWell, I declare!â tittered Elizabeth, as she read. âIsnât that extraordinary? Heâs got the three-name craze, too!â
âItâs perfectly ridiculous,â said Cleopatra. âBut itâs fairer than Artemus Wardâs plan. Mozart gives notice of his intentions to charge you; but with Ward itâs different. He comes, and afterwards sends a bill for his fun. Why, only last week I got a âquarterly statementâ from him showing a charge against me of thirty-eight dollars for humorous remarks made to my guests at a little chafing-dish party I gave in honor of Balzac, and, worst of all, he had marked it âPlease remit.â Even Antony, when he wrote a sonnet to my eyebrow, wouldnât let me have it until he had heard whether or not Boswell wanted it for publication in the Gossip. With Rubens giving chalk-talks for pay, Phidias doing âFive-minute Masterpieces in Puttyâ for suburban lyceums, and all the illustrious in other lines turning their genius to account through the entertainment bureaus, itâs impossible to have a salon now.â
âYou are indeed right,â said Madame RĂ©camier, sadly. âThose were palmy days when genius was satisfied with chicken salad and lemonade. I shall never forget those nights when the wit and wisdom of all time wereâahâwere on tap at my house, if I may so speak, at a cost to me of lights and supper. Now the only people who will come for nothing are those we used to think of paying to stay away. Boswell is always ready, but you canât run a salon on Boswell.â
âWell,â said Portia, âI sincerely hope that you wonât give up the functions altogether, because I have always found them most delightful. It is still possible to have lights and supper.â
âI have a plan for next winter,â said Madame RĂ©camier, âbut I suppose I shall be accused of going into the commercial side of it if I adopt it. The plan is, briefly, to incorporate my salon. Thatâs an idea worthy of an American, I admit; but if I donât do it Iâll 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. âThe RĂ©camier Salon (Limited)â would be a most excellent title, and, suitably capitalized would enable us to pay our lions sufficiently. Private enterprise is powerless under modern conditions. Itâs as much as I can afford to pay for a dinner, without running up an expensive account for guests; and unless we get up a salon-trust, as it were, the whole affair must go to the wall.â
âHow would you make it pay?â asked Portia. âI canât see where your dividends would come from.â
âThat is simple enough,â said Madame RĂ©camier. âWe could put up a large reception-hall with a portion of our capital, and advertise a series of nightsâsay one a week throughout the season. These would be Warriorsâ Night, Story-tellersâ Night, Poetsâ Night, Chafing-dish Night under the charge of Brillat-Savarin, and so on. It would be understood
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