The people I've smiled with; recollections of a merry little life

Front matter

SECOND COPY, 18^9.

Chap..l.s?il)pyright No..

X

Chapter I. Page

"Yours, Merrily," — How I Came to Smile. — Dame Nature out of Sorts, but she Relented. — What THE Old Lady Gave me. — How Others Came to Smile with me. — Smiling as a Business, and the Friends it Brought me, r

Chapter II

Henry Ward Beecher. — Mrs. Beecher. — A Long Hill Oft Climbed. — Two Old Sunday-School Boys in Council.-^A Friend for Life. — He Seemed to Know Everything. — A Love Scene Not to be Found in Novels, 6

Chapter III

General Grant. — One of His Predictions which Hasn't Been Fulfilled. — We Drove Together through Central Park. — I Surrendered Unconditionally. — The Truly Great are Truly Good. — He Could Not Exult over a Fallen Foe. — He Teaches a Mare to Trot. — Better THAN Funny, ........14

V vi Contents.

Chapter IV. Face

Ex-President Cleveland. — I Visit the White House. — The Last Shall be First. — The Magic OF A Letter. — A Wonderful Man at Dispatching Business. — Mrs. Cleveland, - - - - 21

Chapter V

Mr. Blaine. — A Jolly Good Fellow. — No Airs ABOUT Him. — A Capital Story-teller. — Quite as Sensitive as Other Men. — A Sympathetic Listener. — Mrs. Blaine. — A Peep Behind the Scenes. — It Might have been a Honeymoon Trip, 27

Chapter VI

Going Abroad. — A Forlorn Hope. — My Own Private Story. — The Prince of Wales. — Every Inch a Prince, and the Prince of Good Fellows beside. — His Courtesy, Thoughtfulness, Tact, AND Kindness. — Why the English Like Him. — English Manners in the Prince's Presence. — One Yankee who Swears by Him, • • - 35

Chapter VII

London Society. — Americans have a Mistaken Idea about it. — Good Taste and Unaffected Manners. — Duke of Teck. — Earl Dudley. — British Loyalty. — Visitors are Made to Feel at Home. — The Egyptian Princes. — Victoria, D, G., etc.— " God Save the Queen," - - - - 45

Contents. vii

Chapter VIII. Page

Entertaining in London. — English "Swells" Dress Plainly at Parties. — No Display of Jewelry. — Baron Rothschild. — Brains Rule in Good Society. — Mrs. Ronalds. — Mrs. Mackat. — Lady Arthur Paget. — No Crowd or Noise in the Best Houses. — No Display, - - 54

Chapter IX

"The Season." — Summer, but Not. Hot Weather. — A Chance for Americans. — Entertainments with a Rush. — Rain also. — William Beat- TY Kingston. — George Augustus Sala. — Labouchere. — Sir Morell Mackenzie : — Newman Hall. — Joseph Parker. — Lady Wilde. — Oscar Wilde. — Willie Wilde, 63

Chapter X

London Clubs. — Semi-homes, Semi-offices. — Great Blessings to Wives. — The Savage. — A Saturday Night. — Hospitable to Americans. — I " Take Off" Biggar. — The Lyric Club. — The New Club. — The Odd Volumes. — The Gallery. — Title AND Rank. 74

Chapter XI

Henry Irving. — A Most Remarkable Man. — Discussed as an Actor — Agreed Upon as a Man. — He was my Friend. — Always Says and Does the Right Thing. — My Impudence and his Good viii Contents.

PAGS

Nature. —Always at his Best. — Never Talks of Himself. — When does he Sleep ? — A Talking Face. — His Delicate Way of Doing Things. — Kind to Americans. — His Little Joke on Me. — Henry Irving, Junior, ...... 83

Chapter XII

Americans in England. — No End to Them. — They are Well Treated. — Not Fair to Our Minis. TER. — Mr. Phelps. — Fourth of July at the Legation. — An American Monte Cristo. — The School Treat. — English Shops and American Customers. — Howard Paul. — Unfortunate Yankees, ..-97

Chapter XIII

Buffalo Bill. — He Met Old Friends. — A Lion in Society. — Nate Saulsbury. — Jack Burke. — Indians in Drawing-rooms. — I Entertained Them. — A Patriotic Explanation. — The Boys Told Stories. — One about Ned Buntline. — Buck Taylor's Pie, - - - 108

Chapter XIV

My Success Abroad. — No Secret about it. — Never Made Fun of the English. — Nor Forced Myself upon Them. — Interested Myself in my Friends. — No "Effete" Nonsense. — Did not "Toady." — No Favors Demanded. — Drank Nothing Stronger than Water. — When I Admired Anything I Said so. — Put on No "Airs," 122

Contents. ix

Chapter XV. Page

Answers to Correspondents. — My Recitations Abroad. — The Renovation and Ornamentation OF the Chestnut. — Mark Twain on Chestnuts. — How I Handled Them. — Punch Explains for Me. — Devise Something New. — The English Like Puns. — An Historic Specimen. — Respect other Artists. — The Landlord and the Dog. — An Irish Toast. — Taking Bits of American Humor. — Too Much Advice, ...... 136

Chapter XVI

English Respect for the Dramatic Profession. — The Lord Mayor's Dramatic Reception, — Wilson Barrett. — Toole. — One of His Stories. — "Gus" Harris. — W. S. Gilbert. — Sir Arthur Sullivan. — Charles Wyndham. — Madame Patti. — English Theaters Don't Equal Ours, - - 147

Chapter XVII

Beautiful Paris. — French as I act it. — In Search of Napoleon's Tomb. — Ordering a Bath. — Restaurant French. — Legal, but Frenchy. — The Champs ELYsf;ES. — French Girls not as Pretty as Ours. — Clean Streets. — A War Story to the Point. — Some of the Sights. — A Vanderbilt Incident. 160

Chapter XVIII

Americans Ahead of the World. — Some New Yorkers. — Cornelius Vanderbilt. — He Sent Me

X Contents.

PAGE

Around. — So Did Peter Cooper. — A Thompson Street Affair. — Chauncey Depew. — That Way OF His. — Bob Ingersoll. — His Perfect Home. — Religion and Philosophy. — Tom Ochiltree. — He Imitated Washington, 173

Chapter XIX

American Actors. — They are Great Story-Tellers. — AuGusTiN Daly and His Brother. — James Lewis. — In re Coquelin. — Nat Goodwin. — De Wolf Hopper. — Barrett. — Booth. — Chanfrau's Best Story. — Ben Maginley. — No Admittance Behind the Scenes. — Mark Twain's Experience. — Maurice Barrymore, ..---. 188

Chapter XX

After-dinner Speakers. — Englishmen Admire Ours. — Tom Waller.— Chauncey Depew. — Wayne Mc- Veagh — Moses P. Handy. — The Bald Eagle of Westchester. — The Man Who Didn't Kick. — Competitive Lying. — Horace Porter. — Bill Nye. — James Whitcomb Riley. — Judge Brady. — Judge Davis. — David Dudley Field. .... 200

Chapter XXI

Newspaper Men are Reliable Smilers. — John Cockerill. — General Sherman Explains. — Some of Cockerill's Yarns. — Amos Cummings.— Some of his Stories. — Joe Howard Brings Down the House. — Willie Winter. — Henry Guy Carleton

Contents. xi

PAGE

ON Commercial Travelers. — Bob Morris. — Joe Clarke. — John Reed. — Will Starks. — George Williams. — The Press Club. — The Fellowcraft. 209

Chapter XXII

Some Points of Business. — No Trick about It. — A Matter of Long Practice. — My Earliest Appearance. — Joe Jefferson. — A Gallows for a Stage. — Buffalo Bill with Red Hair. — My Friends the Newsboys. — I Learned Something from Talmage. — A Hint to Preachers — Marcus Spring's Story. — The Boston Common Incident Adapted, 223

CHAPTER XXHL

Part of My Pay. — The Fun I Get from My Hearers. — They Asked for My Father. — A Thrifty Hebrew. — No Creed about Money. — Expected TO Parade. — Some Great-hearted Philadelphi- ANs. — A Blind Orchestra. — Cabmen's Jokes. — Cak-l Zerrahn's Predicament. — Taming a Bear. — Mind-reading. 233

Chapter XXIV

An Ocean Trip. — A Glorious Bracer. — Some People Whom You Don't Meet. — Creditors. — People You are Sure to See. — The Doctor. — Fred Douglass. — Honeymoon Couples. — Gossip. — The Resurrection of "Plug" Hats. — Custom-house Officials. — The Traveling Dude. — When Blaine Smiled ....... .. 246 xii Contents.

Chapter XXV. Page

Myself Once More. — One Use of Affliction. — Picking up Material. — Dining Customs. — Not the Right Story. — Two Stammerers. — I Laugh at My Jokes. — Sometimes the Audience Laugh at the Wrong Place. — Critical Audiences. — Hard Work'. — Good-bv, 259

THE PEOPLE rVE SMILED WITH.

Chapter I

"Yours, Merrily,"— How I Came to Smile. — Dami Nature out of Sorts, but she Relented. — What THE Old Lady Gave me. — How Others Came to Smile WITH ME. — Smiling as a Business, and the Friends it Brought me.

Why one man should smile more than some others, and how I chanced to be that man, may properly be stated here, by way of explanation of the following pages. Besides, I am the smallest man mentioned in this book, and " the shortest horse is soonest curried."

To begin at the beginning, as the crane said when he swallowed the eel head first, old Dame Nature appeared to be out of sorts when she got hold of me. She put a couple of feet under me, but she left a couple of feet off of my stature. She didn't make me tall enough to look down on anybody, or strong enough to thrash anybody, so I never was allowed the small-boy privilege of " putting on airs."

After a while Dame Nature took another look, and seemed to think she hadn't done the fair thing by me, so she gave me an expansive smile and a big laugh. I liked them both ; they amused me a great deal whenever there chanced to be nobody else looking after me. I cultivated that smile and that laugh until the one grew very broad and the other very loud. In fact, both became so prominent as to attract a great deal of attention.

Pretty soon they began to make themselves useful to me at school. All of my readers who have been to school know that boys aren't the gentlest creatures in the world ; turn a lion and a lot of schoolboys loose in the same wellfenced lot, and the lion would be roaring for the police in less than five minutes. As for a small boy who isn't strong enough to fight, — why, there will always be a crowd of bigger boys who will see how near they can come to worrying him to death without killing him.

There were some boys of that kind in the school I first attended, and they "went for me." I tried to defend myself with my smile and my laugh ; I hadn't anything else to hit them with, and I beat them. They gave up when they found I didn't worry worth a cent. Then they were so surprised that they stood around and asked what kind of fellow I was any way. In reply, I smiled and laughed some more, and told them a story or two. After that I was the biggest boy in school.

" Orpheus, with his lute, made trees, And the mountain tops that freeze, Bow themselves when he did sing."

I don't wish to belittle Orpheus's well-earned reputation, but in spite of his great achievements I don't believe he could have drawn a bigger crowd in our old school yard with his music than I always did as soon as I laughed a specimen or two. No sooner would I get to work than the juvenile toughs would stop fighting, and the juvenile saints stop doing nothing, all to gather around me, and hear my jokes or tell me some, — it didn't seem to matter much which, — so they could see me smile and hear me laugh.

When I became old enough to want to select a life occupation, I found myself in a serious quandary. All the callings to which boys at first naturally incline seemed closed against me. I couldn't be clown in a circus or enter for a walking-match, for my legs were too short. I couldn't preach, for my head wouldn't reach the top of the pulpit. There was no chance for me in Congress, for the

Speaker couldn't see me, to recognize me, unless I stood on a chair, which would be contrary to the " Rules of the House ;" and I couldn't become John L. Sullivan's rival, for my fighting-weight was too light.

It occurred to me one day that there were a good many solemn people in the world, and none too many men who made a business of provoking their fellow-men to laugh. If I could persuade enough people to listen to me, I might make it my business to smile for revenue. Incidentally I might do some good ; for if I, with the handicapping I was enduring, could smile and be merry, any big healthy fellow ought to go out into his own back yard and kick himself whenever he found himself becoming miserable.

The more I thought over this plan, the better I liked it. I already had some idea of how to do it, for I had " tried it on a dog," as the theatrical people say: that is, I'd told a great many jokes and sung dozens of funny songs to men who couldn't laugh much easier than George Washington could tell a lie. I'd learned how to "size up" a crowded house, for I had given a good many dramatic entertainments in our barn (price of admission, one pin), and the audience was generally discriminating — and mixed.

So I went into the '' humourous entertainment " business. I also succeeded — so other folks say. I did so well that people who heard and saw me always put on their most cheerful faces when afterward we met ; as for me, no one ever heard me growl or grumble. I've had the pleasure of meeting many of the people of whom the world talks a great deal ; they have been kind enough to listen to me, chat with me, smile with me, and otherwise treat me so well that I can't help talking about them. So here goes.

Chapter II

Henry Ward Beecher. — Mrs. Beecher. — A Long Hill Oft Climbed. — Two Old Sunday-School Boys in Council. — A Friend for Life. — He Seemed to Know Everything. — A Love Scene Not to be Found in Novels.

When I started in my professional career as caterer to human risibilities, I worked for nothing and was glad of the chance, for opportunity to appear and become known was what I needed. As soon as I dared, however, I began to charge for my services. My first fee was fifty cents, but it made a great difference in the treatment I received, and, strange though it may appear, the higher my fee, the greater is the courtesy and attention I receive. Why, when I used to volunteer to recite at a church entertainment, I would be the last person reached by the strawberries and cream ; but now, when I am paid almost all the money received at the door, I am likely to be the first person served. People care most for what costs them most ; I know how it is myself.

After getting a good deal of practice in reciting at social affairs, and having acquired a large and carefully assorted lot of humourous and pathetic songs and stories, I determined to look for larger and more profitable audiences. To get them, it seemed to me I needed the indorsement of some prominent people, so I started in search of it. Any man of the world, or of ordinary business sense, would have nosed around among his acquaintances until he found some one who knew somebody else who knew somebody in particular, and then have got letters from one to another, — just as half a million able-bodied American citizens who want office have been approaching President Harrison during the past few months. But I was as "green" as I was short ; I knew no way but the straightest ; and I can't say now, after looking back, that I'm a bit sorry for it.

The first indorsement I went for — and also the first I got — was that of Henry Ward Beecher. He was prominent ; his opinion of anyone was always quoted ; and I knew from his sermons that he had the sort of heart that would sympathise with a little bit of a fellow trying to handle a great big contract. So over to Brooklyn I went, and climbed Columbia Heights. Oh, that climb ! It's a beautiful hill when you've reached the top of it, but it isn't the sort of hill that I should design with special reference to the legs of fellows only three or four feet high. I consider myself an authority on Columbia Heights, for I had to climb it more than half a dozen times before I got a glance at Mr. Beecher, and another half a dozen before I came to know him as I wanted to. Bless the great-hearted old man ! To once more see his face break into a smile, and the kindly twinkle come into his eyes, I'd go up that steep slope a dozen times again, and do it on my knees every time.

Well, Mr. Beecher's door was slammed in my face half a dozen different times. The servants couldn't have taken me for a burglar or sneak-thief, I was too neatly dressed for a beggar, so I had to conclude that they took me for a book-agent. That wasn't encouraging, though some book-agents are good fellows. I couldn't understand it ; the only thing I fully comprehended was that the doorstep wasn't specially designed for a tired little fellow to rest on.

The seventh time I called, Mrs. Beecher chanced to open the door. When she had looked down long enough to find who it was that had rung the bell, she smiled a little and asked me what I wanted. " I want to see Mr. Beecher," said I ; then, paraphrasing General Grant's historic dispatch, I continued, "and I'm going to keep on coming until I find him." That remark, I afterward learned, went right to the heart of Mrs. Beecher's own persevering Yankee nature, and the good woman told me to come again, when I should see her husband if he were at home, I went ; Mrs. Beecher received me, and called back to her husband, " Papa, here's that little man who wants to see you."

Mr. Beecher came forward ; his parlour floor was a long suite of rooms with his study in the rear. He looked as solemn and sharp-eyed as a country deacon to whom a stranger is trying to sell a horse. I like to be looked at that way, though ; it means that a man is " sizing me up ; " I can stand it as long as he can.

" Mr. Beecher," said I, " I'm trying to make a living by making people laugh."

" Well," said he, " if you can make people merry, you deserve all you can make out of it."

" I can do it," said I. " I'll make jou laugh if you're not careful." I guess he wasn't careful, for his face suddenly broke up like a cloud with the sun jumping through it. I went on : " I want a better chance than I've had, and I'd lo The People I 've Smiled With :

like to let myself loose before your Sunday-school. I've been a Sunday-school boy, and I know what that sort of fellow likes."

" I've been one myself," said the old man. He looked dreamy a moment ; then he began to chuckle and shake over some mischievous boyish memory, — I don't know what it was ; but I smiled in sympathy with him, and just then his eye met mine. That settled it ; I'd got him. That isn't all either; hed got me, not only for the remainder of his life, but for all that might be left of mine.

" Well, little chap," said he, " I'm not manager of the Sunday-school ; you go and talk to the superintendent. I guess you're able to hoe your own row."

I went, and the following Christmas morning I was called by telegraph to appear before the Sunday-school. Mr. Beecher was there, and made a hit, as usual ; but boys and girls can swallow fun as fast as if it were ice-cream, so I made a hit too. After that Mr. Beecher gave me a letter ; there weren't many words in it, but every one of them was worth a heap of money to me. I printed the letter in my circular, and I soon found myself a good deal of a fellow in the estimation of the public. Engagements began to crowd upon me, and

Recolledions of a Merry Little Life. ti

when I tried to lessen the number, for time's sake, by raising my prices, I found that money was no object to the people who wanted to see me and smile with me.

But that wasn't all the dear old man did for me. Always after that, when we happened to be in the same place, he looked me out and took pains to say something cheery to me. I've got head and heart for a good deal outside of my business, and when I think of that great man, courted and flattered by thousands, hated and envied by a few, carrying in his great warm heart the cares and sorrows of hundreds and thousands of souls, giving strength to the weak and hope to the wicked, and all the time having a great battle of his own to fight, — when I think of all this and remember that he yet found heart and time to offer cheery companionship to a little fellow like me, I have a very clear idea about the salt of the earth.

I afterward saw a great deal of Mr. Beecher when he was in England. I travelled there with him at times, and found him a wonderful combination of greatness and goodness. There seemed nothing of interest to humanity or in the world about which he hadn't thought clearly, and with a conscience in first-class working order. To me — and everybody else who met him, I believe — he was books, newspapers, and a whole university course beside.

Several years ago I thought I would like to see President Cleveland, but I didn't want to straggle along in a line and look at him only about a second ; it takes a little fellow like me a long time to get a good square look at a President of the United States, I said as much to Mr. Beecher one day, and he replied :

" I guess that can be managed, young fellow." Then he sat down and wrote a letter, of which more anon.

One of my pleasantest recollections of Mr. Beecher has its scene in the home of Rev. Dr. Joseph Parker, of London, whose guest Mr. Beecher was for a time. At a pleasant little reception given by Dr. Parker the rooms were so crowded that Mr. Beecher, having given his seat to a lady, stood beside the chair in which his wife sat. Mrs. T, P. O'Connor, wife of a prominent member of the Home Rule party in Parliament, and herself a most brilliant and charming woman, — an American besides, — recited a pathetic Southern story. Tears began to gather in Mr. Beecher's eyes : he did not want to make a spectacle of himself, so he

RecoUectio7is of a Merry Little Life. 13

softly stooped until he sat upon the floor. The recitation continued ; so did the flow of tears ; at last the old man hid his face in his wife's lap ; the old lady bent over him and stroked his forehead ; and for once I thanked God that I was very short, for otherwise I might not have been the only witness of this true lovepassage between husband and wife. After that, any one who told me that love was only an accident of youth was wasting his breath. I wouldn't have missed that sight for all the Romeos and Juliets in the world. I've often swapped jokes with Henry Ward Beecher ; we've pressed each other hard in laughingmatches ; he has been a great help to me in business and many other ways ; but dearer than all my other memories of him is that which taught me that true love is eternal, that gray hairs cannot chill it, but, on the contrary, that—

" Where the snow hes thickest there's nothing can freeze."

Chapter III

General Grant. — One of His Predictions which Hasn't Been Fulfilled. — We Drove Together THROUGH Central Park. — I Surrendered Unconditionally. — The Truly Great are Truly Good. — He Could Not Exult over a Fallen Foe. — He Teaches A Mare to Trot. — Better than Funny.

The human face is a good indication of character, but I've often found that while it is very good for this purpose, it amounts only to what the miners call " surface indications." It tells of much that you will be sure to find if you search farther, but it doesn't inform you of a great many things which you are sure to stumble over sooner or later.

The foregoing isn't part of one of my recitations ; it is merely a reflection or two that come to my mind as I think of General Grant. I had heard and thought a great deal about him while he was General and President, and, like more than half the youngsters in the United States, I thought him as serious, solemn, and preoccupied as the Sphinx itself. I hoped that some day I might see him, — ■ 14

" A cat may look at a king," — and I also hoped that when that day should come he might look at me, if only for an instant ; though I expected that the glance would be from a pair of cold, steel-blue-gray eyes, with a firm-set mouth a little way beneath them.

Well, one day I went with my father to a camp-meeting at Martha's Vineyard, where General Grant chanced to be staying. My father, as he and I were strolling along together, stopped suddenly and began chatting with a rather short, stout, modest-looking gentleman. A moment or two later my father said :

"General Grant, allow me to present my son."

Gracious ! you could have knocked me down with a feather. Really, General Grant ? And I only little Marshall Wilder? I felt as if I were shrinking down into my boots ; but I guess I wasn't ; for the General managed to reach my head without stooping; he patted me kindly, and said,

"You'll be a little General some day, my boy."

I'm not anxious to have his prophecy fulfilled, for I've too much respect for our present major-generals, brigadiers, and a lot of other

1 6 The People I've Stniled With :

splendid West Pointers I know. Besides, I'm otherwise engaged ; I'd rather half kill a man with a joke than with a bullet ; nevertheless the military dreams I indulged in that night would have knocked Napoleon silly, — that's about the size of it, — and they'd paralyze Moltke, Sir Garnet Wolseley, and General Schofield if I could repeat them to-day.

I didn't expect ever to meet General Grant again, or to presume upon a casual introduction, such as men as prominent as Grant have to endure fifty or a hundred times a day. I could not imagine that he would remember me if ever we chanced to meet again. But one day, while I was standing at the corner of Seventh Avenue and Fifty-ninth Street, who should chance to step from a Belt Line horse-car but General Grant. Again I felt smaller than my very small self, but I remembered that I was an American citizen, so I braced up and said:

"Good-morning, General."

*' Why, good-morning, my little man," said he. '* How are you feeling this morning ? "

"Tip-top," I replied, "I was just going to take a run in the Park."

He threw a pleasant wink down to me and said :

" How would it do to have a horse do the running, and you sit behind him?" Then he turned to one of the Park cabmen and said : " I want you to take my friend and me around the Park."

Away we went. Good air and distinguished company made me feel merrier than usual, and I let off a joke or two ; the General " saw " me and went me one or two better. We kept up a good-natured fight of that kind all the way through the Park and back again ; I worked my biggest guns and used up all my ammunition, but in the end I found myself on the list with General Pemberton, General Lee, and a lot of other good fellows, — I'd had to surrender unconditionally. Nobody need talk to me about Grant being " the silent man." And what a big, honest smile he had ! I've one myself, I think, but I wish he could have left me his in his will. The idea of a man who had handled a dozen armies, carried a nation on his shoulders through four years of fighting in the field and eight years more in Washington, giving an hour or more of his time and attention to a little chap whom he chanced to meet on a street corner, while a score of millionnaires would almost have given their heads to be in my place beside him ! As we rode along, hundreds of people recognized him and raised their hats to him, but he returned their salutes as modestly as if he was nobody in particular.