The American Boy's Handy Book

by Daniel Carter Beard

  Spearing Fish

  is far more exciting and sportsmanlike than snaring them. The fish may be attracted by dead bait dropped through the hole in the ice, after the manner before described, or if it be pickerel you are after, a trolling spoon can be danced up and down, and round and round, until it attracts the attention of the fish. Some fishermen use a wooden minnow weighted at the bottom with lead and provided with fins and tail made of tin. Such a decoy, to be effective, should be decorated with a brilliant red stripe on each side, a white belly, and a bright green back. By means of a line fastened to the wooden fish it can be made to swim around under water in a most frisky and life-like manner, completely deceiving the unwary pickerel. The decoy must be kept out of reach when the fish dart at it, and at the same time the spear must be poised, ready to cast at the first opportunity. Often the unsuspicious pickerel will stop and remain for some moments motionless directly under the hole in the ice, apparently considering the best mode of capturing the lively and gaudy minnow that dances so temptingly near his hungry jaws. This is a golden opportunity for the young fisherman, and waiting only such time as it may require to take aim, the lance should be launched. A good fish spear is described on page 152 and illustrated by Fig. 121. As soon as a fish is speared it should be thrown upon the ice outside the shanty and allowed to freeze. In this manner the meat is kept much sweeter and fresher than it is possible to preserve fish in warm weather, even for so short a time as it requires to carry the game home from the fishing grounds.

  How to Build a Fishing House.

  Fig. 200 shows the framework for a small fishing house; the posts and cross pieces are made of such sticks as can be found along the bank of any stream or lake. Fig. 201 shows how the floor is made of planks, with a hole in the forward part to fish through. The whole frame may be covered with pieces of an old hay-cover, canvas, or what is better still, pieces of old oil-cloth, such as is used for dining-room or hall floors. If the framework be covered with any light cloth, the cloth should be tacked on and thickly coated with paint so as to admit no light. A frame like the one illustrated by Figs. 200and 201 may be made, fitted up, and kept stored away until wanted for use. After hauling it out on the fishing grounds and cutting a hole through the ice, the frame can be covered with thick blankets, and without injuring the material the covering can be fastened by pins and strings over the framework and removed when the day’s sport is finished. If, instead of rough forked sticks, regular square posts be used, the whole can be covered with quarter-inch pine lumber, thus making a light but serviceable shanty. If the light come in under the house, pack snow around it. If the snow cover the ice to such a thickness as to darken the water beneath, sweep a place clean around your shanty, and the light admitted through the clear ice will illuminate the water beneath your hut or tent. Fig. 202 shows another form of fisherman’s hut, made upon the same principle as the cabin of the Crusoe raft (Figs. 70 and 71, page 83). Select hickory or any other elastic saplings, taking care to have them all about the same size. After boring holes with an auger in the side bars of the floor frame, bend saplings over and force their ends into the holes as shown in the diagram. The floor can be laid in the same manner as illustrated by Fig. 201, and the whole frame covered with some opaque fabric, or cloth made opaque by a coating of paint. A very beautiful and light fishing house might be made with a bamboo frame that could be taken apart and packed away for the summer like a jointed fishing-rod.

  Footnotes

  * According to the Belfast (Me.) Journal.

  CHAPTER XXXIII.

  IN-DOOR AMUSEMENTS.

  THERE will frequently occur gaps, in the long winter evenings, that are hard to fill up satisfactorily, hours when, tired of reading or study, a boy does not know what to do. Again, occasionally through the winter one’s companions and friends are likely to drop in and spend an evening. The most accomplished host is at times at a loss to know how to entertain his company, after the old, worn, threadbare games have been repeated until they have become monotonous and tiresome.

  To the filling of these gaps, and for the relief of the worried host, I propose to devote a limited space and chapter in explaining and suggesting some novelties in the way of in-door amusements.

  Bric-à-brac, or the Tourist’s Curiosities,

  is a comparatively new game, which, in the hands of a smart boy or a fluent speaker, can be rendered entertaining, startling, or boisterously funny. The company, seated at a long table in a very dimly lighted room, must be particularly requested to keep their hands under the table, pay strict attention to the tourist, and maintain a solemn silence. The tourist, from the head of the table, commences his narrative something as follows:

  “In the year 1867 I was travelling in Egypt, having been commissioned by a certain scientific association to procure for them as perfect a specimen of a mummy as I could find. I made it my particular business to associate as much as possible with the native Arabs, whose ostensible business of guides and donkey masters is but a disguise, and, at the same time, a help to their real trade of grave robbers. Through my interpreter, I let it be known that I was willing to pay a good price for the mummy of some king or noble person—such mummies, being more carefully and skilfully embalmed, are in a much more perfect state of preservation. For some months I was fooled and fretted by these Arab swindlers and cheats, who would take me long distances to show some very common broken specimen. Finally, finding I would not be imposed upon, I received a call one night from a most villainous-looking native, who said for so much money he would introduce me to a certain Amed al Hamu, who could procure me what I wanted. To shorten a long story, I met Amed al Hamu, and after a week’s dickering and bargaining made an appointment to meet him alone at his home—one could scarcely say house, for he lived in a sort of tomb cut out of the solid rock some twenty feet up a precipitous rock on the edge of the desert. At the appointed time he met me at the foot of the rock, and after cautiously looking to see if we were watched, led me to his cave. Passing through this, with light in hand we entered a narrow passage cut in the rock; through this we stooped and crawled for about a hundred yards; here the passage ended abruptly, as though unfinished. On one side, near the end, was a large crack or fissure, through which I squeezed myself after my guide, and stood upon the brink of a bottomless pit. From its hiding-place Amed al Hamu produced a rude specimen of rope-ladder, by the means of which we descended some ten feet into the pit; getting off on a ledge of rock I was ushered into a small cavern and found a really valuable mummy in an unusually fine mummy case, after showing which Amed offered to deliver it to me at some fifty percent. above the price originally agreed upon. We finally settled the bargain and started to return. As but one at a time could use the rope-ladder, I sent the Arab on first, thinking while he was ascending I might look around, for I felt certain that all those excavations were never made for a single mummy. In the hasty glance I took of the chamber nothing new could be seen, but remembering that the ladder was a very long one, when it came my turn I went down instead of up. Passing a ledge similar to the one just left, I continued down and discovered a narrow landing on the opposite side of the pit. By swinging the rope I reached it and got off. Stepping through a small doorway I stood in a large, spacious chamber; pieces of broken mummy cases and fragments of linen bandages strewed the floor; boxes filled with porcelain statuettes, precious vases of alabaster, jars of bronze and terracotta were piled against the walls. Standing upright and laid at length upon the floor were huge sarcophagi of painted wood. Mummy cases fashioned after the human form crowded the room. Evidently I was amidst the kings and rulers of Pharaonic Egypt. Examining one of the richest sarcophagi I discovered that it had been lately opened, and upon trial lifted the cover off easily; the mummy case inside was broken and half open. There was no doubt, from the fineness of the linen, that the occupant had been royal. It would be hard to say what my emotions were when I opened this mummy case; surprise and astonishment certainly predominated, for there, with bandages
and wrappings half torn and cut off, was the most wonderfully preserved specimen ever seen or heard of. It was, or had been a thousand years ago, a princess of great beauty, and so perfectly was the form preserved that but for the color I should have said she slept!

  “It was evident at a glance that the grave-robbing ghouls had here found a prize which they meant to keep a secret until they discovered the most advantageous way of disposing of it. Upon closer examination I was shocked to discover that one hand of the beautiful mummy had been severed at the wrist, probably for the purpose of more easily obtaining the bracelet that had once encircled the arm. Pulling aside some of the bundled bandages, I discovered the little delicate, shapely hand. A terrific yell from the Arab above startled me so that I dropped the light, which was instantly extinguished, leaving me in total darkness. Thrusting the mummy hand into an inside pocket I groped my way out to the ledge, shouting help! murder! fire! at the top of my voice; in fact, so loud did I yell that the swarthy son of the desert ceased his shouting, and as he reached the ledge upon which I stood held his light aloft, and discovering me, with no light, standing upon the brink of the dark abyss, his villainous features relaxed into a smile, and, motioning me to proceed, he followed me up the ladder. After I had returned to my stopping-place and taken counsel with some friends, in spite of their advice I dispatched a messenger to Amed al Hamu, proposing to purchase some of the treasures that I knew were hidden in the but half-explored cave. The only answer I received was a message from the sheik, or chief of the village, stating that I had in some way ‘incurred the ill will and animosity of the populace,’ and had better therefore absent myself immediately, as he, the sheik, ‘ was powerless to protect.’ It is hardly necessary for me to state that I acted upon this hint and left; I am free to acknowledge that I think more of my own body than any mummy that was ever embalmed. The beautifully shaped hand I still have as evidence of my adventure, and if you will kindly pass it to one another under the table each may feel its peculiar texture.”

  The tourist then takes from a basket at his side a kid glove, previously prepared by stuffing it with damp sand and allowing it to rest on ice for an hour or so. The guests should be repeatedly cautioned about dropping the specimen, otherwise the peculiar cold, damp feeling of what seems to be the hand of a mummy will cause the nervous ones to throw it from them in a hurry. After this has made the circuit of the table, the tourist places it upon a waiter in front of him and proceeds to explain the capture of a very curious sea-urchin, which turns out to be a pincushion with the points of pins sticking out all over it. Next comes a piece of the Japanese weeping crystal from a cave in the centre of Simoda—simply a piece of ice; and so the game continues with as many queer specimens as the ingenuity of the tourist can invent. A glib talker can so excite the imagination of his hearers as to often make them believe for the time that the object they are handling under the table is genuine. When, after the game is over, the contents of the tourist’s basket are exposed for the audience to examine by sight as well as touch, there is always a great laugh as each one recognizes some familiar object, which, with the help of a dark room and a vivid imagination, sent the chills down his back.

  Mind-Reading.

  This is more in the nature of a trick than a game, but as anything that creates surprise or approaches the wonderful always proves attractive and entertaining, I introduce this plan of reading the contents of a folded paper by laying it across the forehead. The mind-reader seats himself at a table at one end of the room; the audience must not approach nearer than five feet, and should be seated in a semicircle in front of him. Slips of paper, all the same size and shape, are then distributed among the audience, with the request that each one write thereon a short sentence, plainly and in English. While they are busy writing, the mind-reader, or medium, is preparing for the trial by first making sundry passes across his forehead, rubbing each arm slowly from shoulder to wrist, and then sitting calm and silent, staring at the wall. Each person folds his piece of paper carefully, and they are all collected by some one, who, standing alongside the medium, presses the first paper folded on the medium’s forehead, who with closed eyes immediately reads the contents out loud, and then verifies it by taking, opening, and re-reading it with his eyes open, and requests the writer to acknowledge it, after which the second paper is treated in a similar manner, thus continuing until every paper has been read and acknowledged. All this appears very wonderful and inexplicable to the uninitiated, but perfectly simple when explained. The party who collects the papers is the medium’s confederate, and should be selected from among the guests some time before the game is proposed, and in another room be thoroughly drilled so as to make no mistakes. The confederate’s part is very easy. It is simply to let the medium know what is to be written on his piece of paper, and be careful to leave that particular message for the last one to be read. On these two points depend the success of the experiment, for it makes no difference what the first message is. The medium reads out whatever the confederate was to write, and while pretending to verify it by re-reading with his eyes open, he really is fixing in his memory the lines in the first paper, which he reads out as the contents of the second message. The second is read as the third, and so on through them all. The confederate’s message, which was read out as coming first, being the last, brings them out even.

  A Literary Sketch Club

  is a new idea, which has been tried and has proved very successful, the original club having prospered through three winters, and still boasts of some thirty enthusiastic members. The idea of the club is that each member illustrate the same subject (previously selected) in any way he thinks fit—the artists, if there be any present, by a drawing or painting on the subject; a member who sings may select, adapt, or originate a song that will express his idea of the subject. Instrumental music may be made to tell the story; short sketches, in prose or poetry, original essays, or selections carefully made from good authors; in fact, there is scarcely any one who cannot illustrate the subject in some way that will add to the entertainment of the evening. I annex the Constitution of the original club, which I know from practical experience works well:

  CONSTITUTION.

  I. NAME.

  The name of this society shall be the —— LITERAR Y SKETCH CLUB.

  II. OFFICERS.

  The officers of this club shall consist of a president, a secretary, an editor, and an associate editor.

  The duties of president and secretary shall be such as usually pertain to such offices.

  The editor shall have entire control of a paper to be issued by the club.

  The duties of the associate editor shall be to assist the editor in the work of publishing the paper, and to take control of the paper in case of the illness or absence of the editor.

  The election of officers shall take place at the first meeting held each season, their term of office to expire upon the next election day.

  III. MEETINGS.

  The regular meetings of the —— Literary Sketch Club shall be held once in every two weeks.

  IV. SUBJECTS FOR ILLUSTRATION.

  The subject to be illustrated must be selected by the member who is to next entertain the club, and announced by him at the meeting preceding the one to be held at his house.

  V. SKETCHES.

  A sketch illustrating the subject selected will be expected from each member present.

  The said sketches may be essays, poems, songs, music, pictures, or any other method of illustration that may suggest itself. Original sketches are not absolutely required.

  Contributions for the club paper must be sent to the editor; they may be anonymous.

  VI. ELECTION OF NEW MEMBERS.

  Candidates for membership may be proposed at any meeting and the election proceeded with, two black balls excluding the candidate from membership.

  VII. ABSENCE.

  Absence from three consecutive regular meetings, without an acceptable excuse, will be considered equivalent to
a resignation, and the absentee’s name may be acted on accordingly.

  VIII. ORDER OF BUSINESS.

  1 Roll call.

  2 Reading of the minutes of the previous meeting.

  3 Presentation of sketches.

  4 Reading of the club paper.

  5 Reports of committees.

  6 Miscellaneous business.

  7 Proposals and election of members.

  8 Adjournment.

  IX. AMENDMENTS TO CONSTITUTION.

  This Constitution can be amended only at a regular meeting by a two-thirds vote, due notice of intended amendment having been given at the previous regular meeting.

  PRINTING PRESSES.

  Little printing presses may be had at such reasonable prices that some member might have one; in that case the club paper, printed in due form, would prove a souvenir which would be prized and carefully kept by each member, especially should it contain an article by himself. In the original club the paper was carefully and neatly written in a blank-book, and in some instances illustrated by an artistic member.

  CHAPTER XXXIV.

  THE BOY’S OWN PHUNNYGRAPH, TO BE EXHIBITED

  By Prof. Edd and Son.

  IN WINTER-TIME, when a great part of a boy’s fun must be found in-doors, it is a good thing to know how to get up amateur exhibitions of various kinds. In this way boys can have a good time while preparing the shows, and may also afford a great deal of pleasure to their companions and friends who make up the audiences.

  One of the most entertaining parlor exhibitions which can be given at a moderate expense by a party of bright boys, accustomed to the use of carpenters’ tools, is “The Boy’s Own Phunnygraph,” invented by the author, who once exhibited one at an amateur performance before an audience of five hundred people.