The Wit and Humor of America Volume V Part 3

I take it the above notices are rather ingenious. The fact is, I'm no judge of acting, and don't know how Miss Pelican will turn out. If well, why there's my notice of June the 1st; if ill, then June 31st comes in play, and, as there is but one copy of the Sentinel printed, it's an easy matter to destroy the incorrect one; _both can't be wrong_; so I've made a sure thing of it in any event. Here follows my musical critique, which I flatter myself is of rather superior order:

THE PLAINS. ODE SYMPHONIE PAR JABEZ TARBOX.--This glorious composition was produced at the San Diego Odeon on the 31st of June, ult., for the first time in this or any other country, by a very full orchestra (the performance taking place immediately after supper), and a chorus composed of the entire "Sauer Kraut-Verein," the "Wee Gates a.s.sociation," and choice selections from the "Gyascutus" and "Pike-harmonic" societies. The solos were rendered by Herr Tuden Links, the recitations by Herr Von Hyden Schnapps, both performers being a.s.sisted by Messrs. John Smith and Joseph Brown, who held their coats, fanned them, and furnished water during the more overpowering pa.s.sages.

"The Plains" we consider the greatest musical achievement that has been presented to an enraptured public. Like Waterloo among battles; Napoleon among warriors; Niagara among falls, and Peck among senators, this magnificent composition stands among Oratorios, Operas, Musical Melodramas and performances of Ethiopian Serenaders, peerless and unrivaled. _Il frappe toute chose parfaitement froid._

"It does not depend for its success" upon its plot, its theme, its school or its master, for it has very little if any of them, but upon its soul-subduing, all-absorbing, high-faluting effect upon the audience, every member of which it causes to experience the most singular and exquisite sensations. Its strains at times remind us of those of the old master of the steamer McKim, who never went to sea without being unpleasantly affected;--a straining after effect he used to term it. Blair in his lecture on beauty, and Mills in his treatise on logic, (p. 31,) have alluded to the feeling which might be produced in the human mind by something of this transcendentally sublime description, but it has remained for M. Tarbox, in the production of "The Plains," to call this feeling forth.

The symphonie opens upon the wide and boundless plains in longitude 115 degrees W., lat.i.tude 35 degrees 21 minutes 03 seconds N., and about sixty miles from the west bank of Pitt River. These data are beautifully and clearly expressed by a long (topographically) drawn note from an E flat clarionet. The sandy nature of the soil, spa.r.s.ely dotted with bunches of cactus and artemisia, the extended view, flat and unbroken to the horizon, save by the rising smoke in the extreme verge, denoting the vicinity of a Pi Utah village, are represented by the ba.s.s drum. A few notes on the piccolo call attention to a solitary antelope picking up mescal beans in the foreground. The sun, having an alt.i.tude of 36 degrees 27 minutes, blazes down upon the scene in indescribable majesty.

"Gradually the sounds roll forth in a song" of rejoicing to the G.o.d of Day:

"Of thy intensity And great immensity Now then we sing; Beholding in grat.i.tude Thee in this lat.i.tude, Curious thing."

Which swells out into "Hey Jim along, Jim along Josey," then _decrescendo_, _mas o menos_, _poco pocita_, dies away and dries up.

Suddenly we hear approaching a train from Pike County, consisting of seven families, with forty-six wagons, each drawn by thirteen oxen; each family consists of a man in b.u.t.ternut-colored clothing driving the oxen; a wife in b.u.t.ternut-colored clothing riding in the wagon, holding a b.u.t.ternut baby, and seventeen b.u.t.ternut children running promiscuously about the establishment; all are barefooted, dusty, and smell unpleasantly. (All these circ.u.mstances are expressed by pretty rapid fiddling for some minutes, winding up with a puff from the orpheclide played by an intoxicated Teuton with an atrocious breath--it is impossible to misunderstand the description.) Now rises o'er the plains, in mellifluous accents, the grand Pike County Chorus:

"Oh we'll soon be thar In the land of gold, Through the forest old, O'er the mounting cold, With spirits bold-- Oh, we come, we come, And we'll soon be thar.

Gee up Bolly! whoo, up, whoo haw!"

The train now encamp. The unpacking of the kettles and mess-pans, the unyoking of the oxen, the gathering about the various camp-fires, the frizzling of the pork, are so clearly expressed by the music that the most untutored savage could readily comprehend it. Indeed, so vivid and lifelike was the representation, that a lady sitting near us involuntarily exclaimed aloud, at a certain pa.s.sage, "_Thar, that pork's burning!_" and it was truly interesting to watch the gratified expression of her face when, by a few notes of the guitar, the pan was removed from the fire, and the blazing pork extinguished.

This is followed by the beautiful _aria_:

"O! marm, I want a pancake!"

Followed by that touching _recitative_:

"Shet up, or I will spank you!"

To which succeeds a grand _crescendo_ movement, representing the flight of the child with the pancake, the pursuit of the mother, and the final arrest and summary punishment of the former, represented by the rapid and successive strokes of the castanet.

The turning in for the night follows; and the deep and stertorous breathing of the encampment is well given by the ba.s.soon, while the sufferings and trials of an unhappy father with an unpleasant infant are touchingly set forth by the _cornet a piston_.

Part Second.--The night attack of the Pi Utahs; the fearful cries of the demoniac Indians; the shrieks of the females and children; the rapid and effective fire of the rifles; the stampede of the oxen; their recovery and the final repulse, the Pi Utahs being routed after a loss of thirty-six killed and wounded, while the Pikes lose but one scalp (from an old fellow who wore a wig, and lost it in the scuffle), are faithfully given, and excite the most intense interest in the minds of the hearers; the emotions of fear, admiration and delight: succeeding each other, in their minds, with almost painful rapidity. Then follows the grand chorus:

"Oh! we gin them fits, The Ingen Utahs.

With our six-shooters-- We gin 'em pertickuler fits."

After which we have the charming recitative of Herr Tuden Links, to the infant, which is really one of the most charming gems in the performance:

"Now, dern your skin, _can't_ you be easy?"

Morning succeeds. The sun rises magnificently (octavo flute)--breakfast is eaten,--in a rapid movement on three sharps; the oxen are caught and yoked up--with a small drum and triangle; the watches, purses and other valuables of the conquered Pi Utahs are stored away in a camp-kettle, to a small movement on the piccolo, and the train moves on, with the grand chorus:

"We'll soon be thar, Gee up Bolly! Whoo hup! whoo haw!"

The whole concludes with the grand hymn and chorus:

"When we die we'll go to Benton, Whup! Whoo, haw!

The greatest man that e'er land saw, Gee!

Who this little airth was sent on Whup! Whoo, haw!

To tell a 'hawk from a handsaw!'

Gee!"

The immense expense attending the production of this magnificent work, the length of time required to prepare the chorus, and the incredible number of instruments destroyed at each rehearsal, have hitherto prevented M. Tarbox from placing it before the American public, and it has remained for San Diego to show herself superior to her sister cities of the Union, in musical taste and appreciation, and in high-souled liberality, by patronizing this immortal prodigy, and enabling its author to bring it forth in accordance with his wishes and its capabilities. We trust every citizen of San Diego and Vallecetos will listen to it ere it is withdrawn; and if there yet lingers in San Francisco one spark of musical fervor, or a remnant of taste for pure harmony, we can only say that the Southerner sails from that place once a fortnight, and that the pa.s.sage money is but forty-five dollars.

THE RUNAWAY BOY

BY JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY

Wunst I sa.s.sed my Pa, an' he Won't stand that, an' punished me,-- Nen when he was gone that day, I slipped out an' runned away.

I tooked all my copper-cents, An' clumbed over our back fence In the jimpson-weeds 'at growed Ever'where all down the road.

Nen I got out there, an' nen I runned some--an' runned again When I met a man 'at led A big cow 'at shooked her head.

I went down a long, long lane Where was little pigs a-play'n'; An' a grea'-big pig went "Booh!"

An' jumped up, an' skeered me too.

Nen I scampered past, an' they Was somebody hollered "Hey!"

An' I ist looked ever'where, An' they was n.o.body there.

I _want_ to, but I'm 'fraid to try To go back.... An' by-an'-by Somepin' hurts my throat inside-- An' I want my Ma--an' cried.

Nen a grea'-big girl come through Where's a gate, an' telled me who Am I? an' ef I tell where My home's at she'll show me there.

But I couldn't ist but tell What's my _name_; an' she says well, An' she tooked me up an' says _She_ know where I live, she guess.

Nen she telled me hug wite close Round her neck!--an' off she goes Skippin' up the street! An' nen Purty soon I'm home again.

An' my Ma, when she kissed me, Kissed the _big girl_ too, an' _she_ Kissed me--ef I p'omise _sh.o.r.e_ I won't run away no more!

THE DRAYMAN

BY DANIEL O'CONNELL

The captain that walks the quarter-deck Is the monarch of the sea; But every day, when I'm on my dray, I'm as big a monarch as he.

For the car must slack when I'm on the track, And the gripman's face gets blue, As he holds her back till his muscles crack, And he shouts, "Hey, hey! Say, you!

Get out of the way with that dray!" "I won't!"

"Get out of the way, I say!"