MANDEVILLE. When we got aboard at Mayence we were conscious of a
dreadful odor somewhere; as it was a foggy morning, we could see no
cause of it, but concluded it was from something on the wharf. The
fog lifted, and we got under way, but the odor traveled with us, and
increased. We went to every part of the vessel to avoid it, but in vain.
It occasionally reached us in great waves of disagreeableness. We had
heard of the odors of the towns on the Rhine, but we had no idea that
the entire stream was infected. It was intolerable.
The day was lovely, and the passengers stood about on deck holding their
noses and admiring the scenery. You might see a row of them leaning over
the side, gazing up at some old ruin or ivied crag, entranced with the
romance of the situation, and all holding their noses with thumb and
finger. The sweet Rhine! By and by somebody discovered that the odor
came from a pile of cheese on the forward deck, covered with a canvas;
it seemed that the Rhinelanders are so fond of it that they take it
with them when they travel. If there should ever be war between us
and Germany, the borders of the Rhine would need no other defense from
American soldiers than a barricade of this cheese. I went to the stern
of the steamboat to tell a stout American traveler what was the origin
of the odor he had been trying to dodge all the morning. He looked more
disgusted than before, when he heard that it was cheese; but his only
reply was: "It must be a merciful God who can forgive a smell like
that!"
II
The above is introduced here in order to illustrate the usual effect
of an anecdote on conversation. Commonly it kills it. That talk must be
very well in hand, and under great headway, that an anecdote thrown in
front of will not pitch off the track and wreck. And it makes little
difference what the anecdote is; a poor one depresses the spirits,
and casts a gloom over the company; a good one begets others, and the
talkers go to telling stories; which is very good entertainment in
moderation, but is not to be mistaken for that unwearying flow of
argument, quaint remark, humorous color, and sprightly interchange of
sentiments and opinions, called conversation.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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