English essays -- 19th century; Great Britain -- Social life and customs; London (England) -- Description and travel
The Giant, I must think, was an overrated giant. I have known gentlemen,
not in the profession, better made, and I should say taller, than the
Vermont gentleman. A strange feeling I used to have at meals; when, on
looking round our little society, I saw the Giant, the Bearded Lady of
Kentucky, the little Bearded Boy of three years old, the Captain, (this
I THINK; but at this distance of time I would not like to make the
statement on affidavit,) and the three other passengers, all with their
knives in their mouths making play at the dinner--a strange feeling I
say it was, and as though I was in a castle of ogres. But, after all,
why so squeamish? A few scores of years back, the finest gentlemen
and ladies of Europe did the like. Belinda ate with her knife; and
Saccharissa had only that weapon, or a two-pronged fork, or a spoon,
for her pease. Have you ever looked at Gilray's print of the Prince
of Wales, a languid voluptuary, retiring after his meal, and noted the
toothpick which he uses? . . . You are right, madam; I own that the
subject is revolting and terrible. I will not pursue it. Only--allow
that a gentleman, in a shaky steamboat, on a dangerous river, in a
far-off country, which caught fire three times during the voyage--(of
course I mean the steamboat, not the country,)--seeing a giant, a
voracious supercargo, a bearded lady, and a little boy, not three years
of age, with a chin already quite black and curly, all plying their
victuals down their throats with their knives--allow, madam, that in
such a company a man had a right to feel a little nervous. I don't know
whether you have ever remarked the Indian jugglers swallowing their
knives, or seen, as I have, a whole table of people performing the same
trick, but if you look at their eyes when they do it, I assure you there
is a roll in them which is dreadful.
Apart from this usage, which they practise in common with many thousand
most estimable citizens, the Vermont gentleman, and the Kentucky
whiskered lady--or did I say the reverse?--whichever you like my dear
sir--were quite quiet, modest, unassuming people. She sat working with
her needle, if I remember right. He, I suppose, slept in the great
cabin, which was seventy feet long at the least, nor, I am bound to say,
did I hear in the night any snores or roars, such as you would fancy
ought to accompany the sleep of ogres. Nay, this giant had quite a small
appetite, (unless, to be sure, he went forward and ate a sheep or two in
private with his horrid knife--oh, the dreadful thought!--but IN PUBLIC,
I say, he had quite a delicate appetite,) and was also a tea-totaler.
I don't remember to have heard the lady's voice, though I might, not
unnaturally, have been curious to hear it. Was her voice a deep, rich,
magnificent bass; or was it soft, fluty, and mild? I shall never know
now. Even if she comes to this country, I shall never go and see her. I
HAVE seen her, and for nothing.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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