The Genial Idiot: His Views and Reviews
Page 8
VII
ON THE DECADENCE OF APRIL-FOOL'S-DAY
"I am sorry to observe," said the Idiot, as he sat down at thebreakfast-table yesterday morning, "that the good old customs of myyouthful days are dying out by slow degrees, and the celebrations thatonce filled my childish soul with glee are no longer a part of thepleasures of the young. Actually, Mr. Whitechoker, I got through thewhole day yesterday without sitting on a single pin or smashing my toesagainst a brickbat hid beneath a hat. What on earth can be coming overthe boys of the land that they no longer avail themselves of theprivileges of the fool-tide?"
"Fool-tide's good," said Mr. Brief. "Where did you get that?"
"Oh, I pried it out of my gray-matter 'way back in the last century,"said the Idiot. "It grew out of a simple little prank I played one April1st upon an uncle of mine. I bored a hole in the middle of a pine logand filled it with powder. We had it that night on the hearth, and amoment later there wasn't any hearth. In talking the matter over laterwith my father and mother and the old gentleman, in order to turn thediscussion into more genial channels, I asked why, if the Yule-log wasappropriate for the Yule-tide, the Fool-log wasn't appropriate for theFool-tide."
"I hope you got the answer you deserved," said the Bibliomaniac.
"I did," sighed the Idiot. "I got all there was coming to me--slippers,trunk-strap, hair-brush, and plain hand; but it was worth it. All theglories of Vesuvius, Etna, Popocatepetl, and Pelee rolled into one couldnever thereafter induce in me anything approaching that joyous sensationthat I derived from the spectacle of that fool-log and that happy hearthsoaring up through the chimney together, hand in hand, and taking withthem such portions of the flues, andirons, and other articles offireplace vertu as cared to join them in their upward flight."
"You must have been a holy terror as a boy," said the Doctor. "I shouldnot have cared to live on your block."
"Oh, I wasn't so bad," observed the Idiot. "I never was vicious ormalicious in what I did. If I poured vitriol into the coffee-pot atbreakfast my father and mother knew that I didn't do it to give pain toanybody. If I hid under my maiden aunt's bed and barked like a bull-dogafter she had retired, dear old Tabitha knew that it was all done in aspirit of pleasantry. When I glued my grandfather's new teeth togetherwith stratina, that splendid old man was perfectly aware that I had nogrudge I was trying thus to repay; and certainly the French teacher atschool, when he sat down on an iron bear-trap I had set for him in hischair, never entertained the notion that there was the slightestanimosity in my act."
"By jingo!" cried the Bibliomaniac. "I'd have spanked you good and hardif I'd been your mother."
"Don't you fret--she did it; that is, she did up to the time I was tenyears old, and then she had such a shock she gave up corporealpunishment altogether," said the Idiot.
"Had a shock, eh?" smiled the Lawyer. "Nearly killed you, I suppose,giving you what you deserved?"
"No," said the Idiot. "Spanked me with a hair-brush without havingremoved a couple of Excelsior torpedoes from my pistol-pocket. On thesecond whack I appeared to explode. Poor woman! She didn't know I wasloaded, and from that time on she was as afraid of me as most otherwomen are of a gun."
"I'd have turned you over to your father," said the Bibliomaniac,indignantly.
"She did," said the Idiot, sadly. "I never used explosives again. Inlater years I took up the milder April-fool diversions, such as fillingthe mucilage-pot with ink and the ink-pot with mucilage; mixing thegranulated sugar with white sand; putting powdered brick into thered-pepper pot; inserting kerosene-oil into the sweet-oil bottle, andlittle things like that. I squandered a whole dollar oneApril-fool's-day sending telegrams to my uncles and aunts, telling themto come and dine with us that night; and they all came, too, although myfather and mother were dining out that evening, and--oh dear,April-fool's-day is not what it used to be. The boys and girls of thepresent generation are little old men and women with no pranks left inthem. Why, I don't believe that nine out of ten boys, who are about toenter college this spring, could rig up a successful tick-tack on awindow to save their lives; and the joy of carrying a piece of twineacross the sidewalk from a front-door knob to a lamp-post, hat-high, andthen sitting back in the seclusion of a convenient area and watching theplug-hats of the people go down before it--that is a joy that seems tobe wholly untasted of the present generation of infantile dignitariesthat we call the youth of the land. What is the matter with 'em, do yousuppose?"
"I guess we're getting civilized," said Mr. Brief. "That seems to me tobe the most likely explanation of this deplorable situation, as youappear to think it. For my part, I'm glad if what you say is true. Ofall rotten things in the world the practical jokes of April-fool's-daybear away the palm. There was a time, ten years ago, when I hardly daredeat anything on the first of April. I was afraid to find my coffee madeof ink, my muffin stuffed with cotton, cod-liver oil in mysalad-dressing, and mayonnaise in my cream-puffs. Such tricks are thetricks of barbarians, and I shall rejoice when April 1st as a day ofspecial privilege for idiots and savages has been removed from thecalendar."
"I am afraid," said Mr. Whitechoker, "that I, too, must join the ranksof those who rejoice if the old-time customs of the day are now honoredmore in the breach than in the observance. Ever since that unhappySunday morning some years ago when somebody substituted a breakfastbill-of-fare for the card containing the notes for my sermon, I havemistrusted the humor of the April-fool joke. Instead of my text, as Iglanced at what I supposed was my note-card, my eyes fell upon thestatement that fruit taken from the table would be charged for; insteadof my firstly, secondly, thirdly, and fourthly, my eyes were confrontedby Fish, Eggs, Hot Bread, and To Order. And, finally, in place of thekey-line of my peroration, what should obtrude itself upon my vision butthat coarse and vulgar legend: Corkage, one dollar. I never found outwho did it, and, as a Christian man, I hope I never shall, for I shouldmuch deprecate the spirit of animosity with which I should inevitablyregard the person who had so offended."
"I'll bet you preached a bully good sermon, allee samee," said theIdiot.
"Well," smiled Mr. Whitechoker, "the congregation did seem to think thatit held more fire than usual; but I can assure you, my young friend, itwas more the fire of external wrath than of an inward spiritual grace."
"Well," said the Bibliomaniac, "we ought to be thankful the old tricksare going out. As Mr. Brief suggests, we are beginning to becivilized--"
"I don't think it's civilization," said the Idiot. "I think the kids arejust discouraged, that's all. They're clever, these youngsters, but whenit comes to putting up games, they're not in it with their far more foxyfathers. What's the use of playing April-fool jokes on your daddy, whenyour daddy is playing April-fool jokes on the public all the year round?That's the way they reason. No son of George W. Midas, the financier, isgoing to get any satisfaction out of handing his father a loaded cigar,when he knows that the old man is handling that sort of thing every dayin his business as a promoter of the United States Hot Air Company. Whatfun is there in giving your sister a caramel filled with tabasco-saucewhen you can watch your father selling eleven dollars' worth ofAmalgamated Licorice stock to the dear public for forty-seven fifty?The gum-drop filled with cotton loses its charm when you contrast itwith Consolidated Radium containing one part of radium and ninety-nineparts of water. Who cares to hide a clay brick under a hat for somebodyto kick, when there are concerns in palatial offices all over townselling gold bricks to a public that doesn't seem to have any kick leftin it? I tell you it has discouraged the kid to see to what scientificheights the April-fool industry has been developed, and as a result hehas abandoned the field. He knows he can't compete."
"That's all right as an explanation of the youngster whose parent isengaged in that sort of business," said the Doctor. "But there areothers."
"True," said the Idiot. "The others stay out of it out of sheer pity.When they are tempted to sew up the legs of their daddy's trousers inorder to fitly celebrate the day, or to
fill his collar-box with collarsfive sizes too small for him, they say, 'No. Let us refrain. Thegovernor has had trouble enough with his International YukonAnticipated Brass shares this year. He's had all the fooling he canstand. We will give the old gentleman a rest!' Fact is, come to look atit, the decadence of April 1st as a day of foolery for the young is nomystery, after all. The youngsters are not more civilized than we usedto be, but they have had the intelligence to perceive the exact truth ofthe situation."
"Which is?" asked Mr. Brief.
"That the ancient art of practical joking has become a business.April-fool's-day has been incorporated by the leading financiers of theage, and is doing a profitable trade all over the world all the yearround. Private enterprise is simply unable to compete."
"I am rather surprised, nevertheless," said Mr. Brief, "that youyourself have abandoned the field. You are just the sort of person whowould keep on in that kind of thing, despite the discouragements."
"Oh, I haven't abandoned the field," said the Idiot. "I did play anApril-fool joke last Friday."
"What was that?" asked Mr. Whitechoker, interested.
"I told Mrs. Pedagog that I would pay my bill to-morrow," replied theIdiot, as he rose from the table and left the room.