Life of Hon. Phineas T. Barnum [49]
father. This made poor Stratton an object of no little curiosity, and he was pestered with all sorts of questions; on one occasion an old dowager said to him:
"Are you really the father of General Tom Thumb?"
"Wa'al," replied Stratton, "I have to support him!"
This evasive answer is common enough in New England, but the literal dowager had her doubts, and promptly rejoined:
"I rather think he supports you!"
Although Barnum was in Europe on business, he made the most of his opportunities for sight-seeing, and in his few leisure hours managed to visit nearly every place of interest both in England and on the continent.
While in Birmingham, with his friend Albert Smith, then author and afterwards a successful showman, he visited Stratford-on-Avon, where lived and wrote the greatest of English poets--Shakespeare.
While breakfasting at the Red House Inn, at Stratford, they called for a guide-book of the town, and to Barnum's great delight the volume proved to be Washington Irving's "Sketch-book." His pleasure was even more increased when he discovered, on reading the vivid and picturesque description of Stratford, that Irving had stopped at the very same hotel where they were awaiting breakfast.
After visiting the house as well as the church where is the tomb of the poet, they took a post-chaise for Warwick Castle, fourteen miles away.
The Earl of Warwick and his family being absent, the visitors were shown through the apartments. One guide took them over the Castle, another escorted them to the top of "Guy's Tower," another showed them the famous Warwick Vase. They were congratulating themselves on not being called upon for any more tips, when the old porter at the lodge informed them that for a consideration he could show them more interesting things connected with the Castle than any they had yet seen. They tossed him his fee, and he produced what purported to be Guy of Warwick's sword, shield, helmet, breastplate, walking-staff, etc. The armor must have weighed two hundred pounds and the sword alone one hundred. Barnum listened, and gazed in silence at the horse-armor, large enough for an elephant, and a pot called "Guy's porridge-pot," which could have held seventy gallons, but when the old man produced the ribs of a mastodon which he declared had belonged to a huge dun cow, which had done much injury to many persons before being slain by the dauntless Guy, he drew a long breath, and feelingly congratulated the old porter on his ability to concentrate more lies than anyone had ever before heard in so small a compass.
"I suppose," said Barnum, "that you have told these marvellous tales so often that you almost believe them yourself."
"Almost," answered the old man, with a broad grin.
"Come now, old fellow," continued Barnum, "what will you take for the entire lot of these old traps? I want them for my Museum in America."
"No money would buy these priceless relics of a bygone age," replied the porter, leering.
"Never mind," exclaimed the showman; "I'll have them duplicated for my Museum, so that Americans can see them without coming here, and in that way I'll burst up your old show."
The porter was paralyzed with astonishment at this threat, and Albert Smith was convulsed with laughter. He afterwards told Barnum that he first derived his idea of becoming a showman from this day at Warwick, and Barnum's talk about his doings and adventures in the business.
They visited that same day Kenilworth and Coventry, in which latter place Barnum discovered the exhibition known as the "Happy Family," about two hundred birds and animals of opposite natures, dwelling in one cage in perfect harmony. He was so delighted with it that he bought it on the spot, and hired the manager to accompany the exhibition to New York, where it became a famous feature of the Museum.
Albert Smith afterwards published a chapter in Bentley's Magazine, entitled "A Day with Barnum," in which he said they accomplished business with such rapidity that, when he attempted to write out the accounts of the day, he
"Are you really the father of General Tom Thumb?"
"Wa'al," replied Stratton, "I have to support him!"
This evasive answer is common enough in New England, but the literal dowager had her doubts, and promptly rejoined:
"I rather think he supports you!"
Although Barnum was in Europe on business, he made the most of his opportunities for sight-seeing, and in his few leisure hours managed to visit nearly every place of interest both in England and on the continent.
While in Birmingham, with his friend Albert Smith, then author and afterwards a successful showman, he visited Stratford-on-Avon, where lived and wrote the greatest of English poets--Shakespeare.
While breakfasting at the Red House Inn, at Stratford, they called for a guide-book of the town, and to Barnum's great delight the volume proved to be Washington Irving's "Sketch-book." His pleasure was even more increased when he discovered, on reading the vivid and picturesque description of Stratford, that Irving had stopped at the very same hotel where they were awaiting breakfast.
After visiting the house as well as the church where is the tomb of the poet, they took a post-chaise for Warwick Castle, fourteen miles away.
The Earl of Warwick and his family being absent, the visitors were shown through the apartments. One guide took them over the Castle, another escorted them to the top of "Guy's Tower," another showed them the famous Warwick Vase. They were congratulating themselves on not being called upon for any more tips, when the old porter at the lodge informed them that for a consideration he could show them more interesting things connected with the Castle than any they had yet seen. They tossed him his fee, and he produced what purported to be Guy of Warwick's sword, shield, helmet, breastplate, walking-staff, etc. The armor must have weighed two hundred pounds and the sword alone one hundred. Barnum listened, and gazed in silence at the horse-armor, large enough for an elephant, and a pot called "Guy's porridge-pot," which could have held seventy gallons, but when the old man produced the ribs of a mastodon which he declared had belonged to a huge dun cow, which had done much injury to many persons before being slain by the dauntless Guy, he drew a long breath, and feelingly congratulated the old porter on his ability to concentrate more lies than anyone had ever before heard in so small a compass.
"I suppose," said Barnum, "that you have told these marvellous tales so often that you almost believe them yourself."
"Almost," answered the old man, with a broad grin.
"Come now, old fellow," continued Barnum, "what will you take for the entire lot of these old traps? I want them for my Museum in America."
"No money would buy these priceless relics of a bygone age," replied the porter, leering.
"Never mind," exclaimed the showman; "I'll have them duplicated for my Museum, so that Americans can see them without coming here, and in that way I'll burst up your old show."
The porter was paralyzed with astonishment at this threat, and Albert Smith was convulsed with laughter. He afterwards told Barnum that he first derived his idea of becoming a showman from this day at Warwick, and Barnum's talk about his doings and adventures in the business.
They visited that same day Kenilworth and Coventry, in which latter place Barnum discovered the exhibition known as the "Happy Family," about two hundred birds and animals of opposite natures, dwelling in one cage in perfect harmony. He was so delighted with it that he bought it on the spot, and hired the manager to accompany the exhibition to New York, where it became a famous feature of the Museum.
Albert Smith afterwards published a chapter in Bentley's Magazine, entitled "A Day with Barnum," in which he said they accomplished business with such rapidity that, when he attempted to write out the accounts of the day, he