The Enchanted Typewriter
Page 8
VIII. A HAND-BOOK TO HADES
"Boswell," said I, the other night, as the machine began to clicknervously. "I have just received a letter from an unknown friend inHawaii who wants to know how the prize-fight between Samson and Goliathcame out that time when Kidd and his pirate crew stole the House-Boat onthe Styx."
"Just wait a minute, please," the machine responded. "I am very busyjust now mapping out the itinerary of the first series of the BoswellPersonally Conducted Tours you suggested some time ago. I laid thatwhole proposition before the Entertainment Committee of the AssociatedShades, and they have resolved unanimously to charter the Ex-GreatEastern from the Styx Navigation Company, and return to the scenes oftheir former glory, devoting a year to it."
"Going to take their wives?" I asked.
"I don't know," Boswell replied. "That is a matter outside of thejurisdiction of the committee and must be decided by a full vote of theclub. I hope they will, however. As manager of the enterprise I needassistance, and there are some of the men who can't be managed byanybody except their wives, or mothers-in-law, anyhow. I'll be throughin a few minutes. Meanwhile let me hand you the latest product of theBoswell press."
With this the genial spirit produced from an invisible pocket ared-covered book bearing the delicious title of "Baedeker's Hades: AHand-book for Travellers," which has entirely superseded, according tothe advertisement on the fly-leaves, such books as Virgil and Dante'sInferno as the best guide to the lower regions, as well it might, forit appeared on perusal to have been prepared with as much care as oneof the more material guide-books of the same publisher, which so greatlyassist travellers on this side of the Stygian River.
Some time, if Boswell will permit, I shall endeavor to have this littlevolume published in this country since it contains many valuable hintsto the man of a roving disposition, or for the stay-at-home, for thatmatter, for all roads lead to Hades. For instance, we do not find inprevious guide-books, like Dante's Inferno, any references whatsoever tothe languages it is well to know before taking the Stygian tour; to thekind of money needed, or its quantity per capita; no allusion tothe necessity of passports is found in Dante or Virgil; custom-houserequirements are ignored by these authors; no statements as to thekind of clothing needed, the quality of the hotels--nor indeed any realinformation of vital importance to the traveller is to be found in theolder books. In Baedeker's Hades, on the other hand, all these subjectsare exhaustively treated, together with a very comprehensive seriesof chapters on "Stygian Wines," "Climate," and "Hellish Art"--theexpression is not mine--and other topics of essential interest.
And of what suggestive quality was this little book. Who would ever haveguessed from a perusal of Dante that as Hades is the place of departedspirits so also is it the ultimate resting-place of all other departedthings. What delightful anticipations are there in the idea of a visitto the Alexandrian library, now suitably housed on the south side ofApollyon Square, Cimmeria, in a building that would drive the trusteesof the Boston Public Library into envious despair, even though livingBacchantes are found daily improving their minds in the recesses ofits commodious alcoves! What joyous feelings it gives one to think ofvisiting the navy-yards of Tyre and finding there the ships concerningthe whereabouts of which poets have vainly asked questions for ages!Who would ever dream that the question of the balladist, himself an abledreamer concerning classic things, "Where are the Cities of Old Time,"could ever find its answer in a simple guide-book telling us whereCarthage is, where Troy and all the lost cities of antiquity!
Then the details of amusements in this wonderful country--who couldgather aught of these from the Italian poet? The theatres of Gehenna,with "Hamlet" produced under the joint direction of Shakespeare and thePrince of Denmark himself, the great Zoo of Sheolia, with Jumbo, and thefamous woolly horse of earlier days, not to mention the long seriesof menageries which have passed over the dark river in the ages nowforgotten; the hanging gardens of Babylon, where the picnicking elementof Hades flock week after week, chuting the chutes, and clamberingjoyously in and out of the Trojan Horse, now set up in all its majestytherein, with bowling-alleys on its roof, elevators in its legs, andthe original Ferris-wheel in its head; the freak museums in the denselypopulated sections of the large cities, where Hop o' my Thumb and Jackthe Giant Killer are exhibited day after day alongside of the greatogres they have killed; the opera-house, with Siegfried himself singing,supported by the real Brunhild and the original, bona fide dragonFafnir, running of his own motive power, and breathing actual fire andsmoke without the aid of a steam-engine and a plumber to connect himtherewith before he can go out upon the stage to engage Siegfried indeadly combat.
For the information contained in this last item alone, even if the bookhad no other virtue, it would be worthy of careful perusal from theopening paragraph on language, to the last, dealing with the descentinto the Vitriol Reservoir at Gehenna. The account of the feeding ofFafnir, to which admission can be had on payment of ten oboli, beginningwith a puree of kerosene, followed by a half-dozen cartridges on thehalf-shell, an entree of nitro-glycerine, a solid roast of cannel-coal,and a salad of gun-cotton, with a mayonnaise dressing of alcohol and apinch of powder, topped off with a demi-tasse of benzine and a box ofmatches to keep the fires of his spirit going, is one of the mostmoving things I have ever read, and yet it may be said without fear ofcontradiction that until this guide-book was prepared very few of theStygian tourists have imagined that there was such a sight to be seen.I have gone carefully over Dante, Virgil, and the works of Andrew Lang,and have found no reference whatsoever in the pages of any of thesetalented persons to this marvellous spectacle which takes place threetimes a day, and which I doubt not results in a performance of Siegfriedfor the delectation of the music lovers of Hades, which is beyond thepower of the human mind to conceive.
The hand-book has an added virtue, which distinguishes it from any otherthat I have ever seen, in that it is anecdotal in style at times wherean anecdote is available and appropriate. In connection with this sameFafnir, as showing how necessary it is for the tourist to be careful ofhis personal safety in Hades, it is related that upon one occasion thekeeper of the dragon having taken a grudge against Siegfried for someunintentional slight, fed Fafnir upon Roman-candles and a sky-rocket,with the result that in the fight between the hero and the demon of thewood the Siegfried was seriously injured by the red, white, andblue balls of fire which the dragon breathed out upon him, while thesky-rocket flew out into the audience and struck a young man in the topgallery, knocking him senseless, the stick falling into a grand-tierbox and impaling one of the best known social lights of Cimmeria."Therefore," adds the astute editor of the hand-book, "on Siegfriednights it were well if the tourist were to go provided with an asbestosumbrella for use in case of an emergency of a similar nature."
In that portion of the book devoted to the trip up the river Styx thelegends surpass any of the Rhine stories in dramatic interest, because,according to Commodore Charon's excursion system, the tourist can stepashore and see the chief actors in them, who for a consideration willgive a full-dress rehearsal of the legendary acts for which they havebeen famous. The sirens of the Stygian Lorelei, for instance, sit on aneminence not far above the city of Cimmeria, and make a profession ofluring people ashore and giving away at so much per head locks of theirhair for remembrance' sake, all of which makes of the Stygian trip athing of far greater interest than that of the Rhine.
It had been my intention to make a few extracts from this portion of thevolume showing later developments in the legends of the Drachenfels,and others of more than ordinary interest, but I find that with thedeparture of Boswell for the night the treasured hand-book disappearedwith him; but, as I have already stated, if I can secure his consentto do so I will some day have the book copied off on more materialsubstance than that employed in the original manuscript, so that theuseful little tome may be printed and scattered broadcast over a waitingand appreciative world. I may as well state here, too, that I ha
ve takenthe precaution to have the title "Baedeker's Hades" and its contentscopyrighted, so that any pirate who recognizes the value of the schemewill attempt to pirate the work at his peril.
Hardly had I finished the chapter on the legends of the Styx whenBoswell broke in upon me with: "Well, how do you like it?"
"It's great," I said. "May I keep it?"
"You may if you can," he laughed. "But I fancy it can't withstand therigors of this climate any more than an unfireproof copy of one of yourbooks could stand the caniculars of ours."
His words were soon to be verified, for as soon as he left me the bookvanished, but whether it went off into thin air or was repocketed by thedeparting Boswell I am not entirely certain.
"What was it you asked me about Samson and Goliath?" Boswell observed,as he gathered up his manuscript from the floor beside the EnchantedTypewriter. "Whether they'd ever been in Honolulu?"
"No," I replied. "I got a letter from Hawaii the other day asking forthe result of the prize-fight the day Kidd ran off with the house-boat."
"Oh," replied Boswell. "That? Why, ah, Samson won hands down, but onlybecause they played according to latter-day rules. If it had been aregular knock-out fight, like the contests in the old days of the ringwhen it was in its prime, Goliath could have managed him with one hand;but the Samson backers played a sharp game on the Philistine by havingthe most recently amended Queensbury rules adopted, and Goliath wasn'tin it five minutes after Samson opened his mouth."
"I don't think I understand," said I.
"Plain enough," explained Boswell. "Goliath didn't know what the modernrules were, but he thought a fight was a fight under any rules, so, likea decent chap, he agreed, and when he found that it was nothing but atalking-match he'd got into he fainted. He never was good at expressinghimself fluently. Samson talked him down in two rounds, just as he didthe other Philistines in the early days on earth."
I laughed. "You're slightly off there," I said. "That was astand-up-and-be-knocked-down fight, wasn't it? He used the jawbone of anass?"
"Very true," observed Boswell, "but it is evident that it is you who areslightly off. You haven't kept up with the higher criticism. It has beenproven scientifically that not only did the whale not swallow Jonah, butthat Samson's great feat against the Philistines was comparable only tothe achievements of your modern senators. He talked them to death."
"Then why jawbone of an ass?" I cried.
"Samson was an ass," replied Boswell. "They prove that by the templeepisode, for you see if he hadn't been one he'd have got out of thebuilding before yanking the foundations from under it. I tell you, oldchap, this higher criticism is a great thing, and as logical as deathitself."
And with this Boswell left me.
I sincerely hope that the result of the fight will prove as satisfactoryto my friend in Hawaii as it was to me; for while I have no particularadmiration for Samson, I have always rejoiced to hear of thediscomfitures of Goliath, who, so far as I have been able to ascertain,was not only not a gentleman, but, in addition, had no more regard forthe rights of others than a member of the New York police force or theeditor of a Sunday newspaper with a thirst for sensation.