The Celebrated Jumping Frog of Calaveras County and Other Sketches
by Mark Twain
19. The Launch of the Steamer Capital
I GET MR. MUFF NICKERSON TO GO WITH ME AND ASSIST IN REPORTING THE GREAT STEAMBOAT LAUNCH. HE RELATES THE INTERESTING HISTORY OF THE TRAVELING PANORAMIST.
I was just starting off to see the launch of the great steamboat
Capital, on Saturday week, when I came across Mulph, Mulff, Muff,
Mumph, Murph, Mumf, Murf, Mumford, Mulford, Murphy Nickerson
(he is well known to the public by all these names, and I can not
say which is the right one) bound on the same errand.
This was the man I wanted.
We set out in a steamer whose decks were crowded with persons of
all ages, who were happy in their nervous anxiety to behold the
novelty of a steamboat launch.
As we approached the spot where the launch was to take place, a
gentleman from Reese River, by the name of Thompson, came up,
with several friends, and said he had been prospecting on the
main deck, and had found an object of interest a bar. This was
all very well, and showed him to be a man of parts; but like many
another man who produces a favorable impression by an
introductory remark replete with wisdom, he followed it up with a
vain and unnecessary question Would we take a drink? This to
me! This to M. M. M., etc., Nickerson!
We proceeded, two by two, arm-in-arm, down to the bar in the
nether regions, chatting pleasantly and elbowing the restless
multitude. We took pure, cold, health-giving water, with some
other things in it, and clinked our glasses together, and were
about to drink, when Smith, of Excelsior, drew forth his
handkerchief and wiped away a tear; and then, noticing that the
action had excited some attention, he explained it by recounting
a most affecting incident in the history of a venerated aunt of
his now deceased and said that, although long years had
passed since the touching event he had narrated, he could never
take a drink without thinking of the kind-hearted old lady.
Mr. Nickerson blew his nose, and said with deep emotion that it
gave him a better opinion of human nature to see a man who had
had a good aunt, eternally and forever thinking about her.
This episode reminded Jones, of Mud Springs, of a circumstance
which happened many years ago in the home of his childhood, and
we held our glasses untouched and rested our elbows on the
counter, while we listened with rapt attention to his story.
There was something in it about a good-natured, stupid man, and
this reminded Thompson, of Reese River, of a person of the same
kind whom he had once fallen in with while traveling through the
back settlements of one of the Atlantic States, and we postponed
drinking until he should give us the facts in the case. The hero
of the tale had unintentionally created some consternation at a
camp-meeting by one of his innocent asinine freaks; and this
reminded Mr. M. Nickerson of a reminiscence of his temporary
sojourn in the interior of Connecticut some months ago; and again
our up-lifted glasses were staid on their way to our lips, and we
listened attentively to
THE ENTERTAINING HISTORY OF THE SCRIPTURAL PANORAMIST.
(I give the history in Mr. Nickerson's own language.)
There was a fellow traveling around, in that country, (said Mr.
Nickerson,) with a moral religious show a sort of a scriptural
panorama and he hired a wooden-headed old slab to play the piano for him. After the first night's performance, the showman says:
"My friend, you seem to know pretty much all the tunes there are,
and you worry along first-rate. But then didn't you notice that
sometimes last night the piece you happened to be playing was a
little rough on the proprieties, so to speak didn't seem to
jibe with the general gait of the picture that was passing at the
time, as it were was a little foreign to the subject, you know
as if you didn't either trump or follow suit, you understand?"
"Well, no," the fellow said; he hadn't noticed, but it might be;
he had played along just as it came handy.
So they put it up that the simple old dummy was to keep his eye
on the panorama after that, and as soon as a stunning picture was
reeled out, he was to fit it to a dot with a piece of music that
would help the audience get the idea of the subject, and warm
them up like a camp-meeting revival. That sort of thing would
corral their sympathies, the showman said.
There was a big audience that night mostly middle-aged and old
people who belonged to the church and took a strong interest in
Bible matters, and the balance were pretty much young bucks and
heifers they always come out strong on panoramas, you know,
because it gives them a chance to taste one another's mugs in the
Well, the showman began to swell himself up for his lecture, and
the old mud-clobber tackled the piano and run his fingers up and
down once or twice to see that she was all right, and the fellows
behind the curtain commenced to grind out the panorama. The
showman balanced his weight on his right foot, and propped his
hands on his hips, and flung his eye over his shoulder at the
scenery, and says:
"Ladies and gentlemen, the painting now before you illustrates
the beautiful and touching parable of the Prodigal Son. Observe
the happy expression just breaking over the features of the poor
suffering youth so worn and weary with his long march; note
also the ecstasy beaming from the uplifted countenance of the
aged father, and the joy that sparkles in the eyes of the excited
group of youths and maidens, and seems ready to burst in a
welcoming chorus from their lips. The lesson, my friends, is as
solemn and instructive as the story is tender and beautiful."
The mud-clobber was all ready, and the second the speech was
finished he struck up:
"Oh! we'll all get blind drunk
When Johnny comes marching home!"
Some of the people giggled, and some groaned a little. The
showman couldn't say a word. He looked at the piano-sharp; but he
was all lovely and serene he didn't know there was any thing out of gear.
The panorama moved on, and the showman drummed up his grit and
started in fresh:
"Ladies and gentlemen, the fine picture now unfolding itself to
your gaze exhibits one of the most notable events in Bible
history our Saviour and his disciples upon the Sea of Galilee.
How grand, how awe-inspiring are the reflections which the
subject invokes? What sublimity of faith is revealed to us in
this lesson from the sacred writings? The Saviour rebukes the
angry waves, and walks securely upon the bosom of the deep!"
All around the house they were whispering, "Oh! how lovely! how
beautiful!" and the orchestra let himself out again:
"Oh! a life on the ocean wave,
And a home on the rolling deep!"
There was a good deal of honest snickering turned on this time,
and considerable groaning, and one or two old deacons got up and
went out. The showman gritted his teeth and cursed the piano man
to himself; but the fellow sat there like a knot on a log, and
seemed to think he was doing first-rate.
After things got quiet, the showman thought he would make one
more stagger at it, any how, though his confidence was beginning
to get mighty shaky. The supes started the panorama to grinding
along again, and he says:
"Ladies and gentlemen, this exquisite painting illustrates the
raising of Lazarus from the dead by our Saviour. The subject has
been handled with rare ability by the artist, and such touching
sweetness and tenderness of expression has he thrown into it,
that I have known peculiarly sensitive persons to be even
affected to tears by looking at it. Observe the half-confused,
half-inquiring look, upon the countenance of the awakening
Lazarus. Observe, also, the attitude and expression of the
Saviour, who takes him gently by the sleeve of his shroud with
one hand, while he points with the other toward the distant
Before any body could get off an opinion in the case, the
innocent old ass at the piano struck up:
"Come, rise up, William Ri-i-ley
And go along with me!"
It was rough on the audience, you bet you. All the solemn old
flats got up in a huff to go, and every body else laughed till
the windows rattled.
The showman went down and grabbed the orchestra, and shook him
up, and says:
"That lets you out, you know, you chowder-headed old clam? Go to
the doorkeeper and get your money, and cut your stick? vamose the
ranche? Ladies and gentlemen, circumstances over which I have no
control compel me prematurely to dismiss "
"By George! it was splendid! Come! all hands! let's take a
It was Phelim O'Flannigan, of San Luis Obispo, who interrupted. I
had not seen him before.
"What was splendid?" I inquired.
Our party clinked glasses once more, and drank in respectful
· · · · · · · · · · · ·
P. S. You will excuse me from making a model report of the
great launch. I was with Mulf Nickerson, who was going to
"explain the whole thing to me as clear as glass;" but, you see,
they launched the boat with such indecent haste, that we never
got a chance to see it. It was a great pity, because Mulph
Nickerson understands launches as well as any man.
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