The Autobiography of Mrs. Tom Thumb - Melanie Benjamin [20]
I, Mercy Lavinia Warren Bump, was bigger than the sun.
INTERMISSION
“RIDING ON A RAIL” (1853)
Sung with Unbounded Applause by Ossian’s Bards.
(Words—anonymous.) Music by Charlie Crozat Converse.
CHORUS (sung after each verse)
Singing thro’ the mountain,
Buzzing o’er the vale,
Bless me, this is pleasant,
A riding on a rail.
Singing thro’ the mountain,
Buzzing o’er the vale,
Bless me, this is pleasant,
A riding on a rail.
VERSE
Men of different stations,
In the eye of fame,
Here are very quickly
Coming to the same;
High and lowly people,
Birds of every feather,
On a common level,
A travelling together.
From the Abbeville, South Carolina, Banner, November 23, 1854
Ranaway from the owner James SMITH, in Anderson District, a negro boy Bob, about 30 years of age, about 5 feet 10 inches high, black complexion, medium size, weight about 160 pounds. The said negro left on Sunday evening the 14th inst. The owner is now on his way to Texas. Any information concerning said boy will be communicated to Robert SMITH residing near Cokesbury in Abbeville district who will pay charges and take him into custody.
[ THREE ]
Life on the Mississippi, or
My Education Truly Begins
YOU LOOK AS PRETTY AS A CHINA DOLL,” SYLVIA PRONOUNCED with an approving smile; it broke slowly as usual across her rough, bony face with its cheekbones the size of large apples, deep hollows, the crooked nose that looked as if it had once been broken. Her smile brought her no beauty, but it did soften her face considerably.
“Do I?” I pretended not to know, but deep down I did; I was pretty. As pretty as a china doll.
The gown that Mrs. Wood had made for me was of the shiniest material we could find: a gossamer blue satin that reflected every light in every direction. While I was assured it would look brilliant behind the footlights, it was also of the highest fashion for the present year, 1858; Mrs. Wood had fastened hoops for me that allowed my skirts to sway and swing so that they did not touch my legs at all. She had not been able to send away for a custom corset, however, so she had done what Mama had done: cut down the smallest one she could find. It still gapped uncomfortably at my bosom, and did not cinch my waist as tightly as I naturally desired.
Still, admiring the lace and silk flower festoons that adorned my hem, my pretty new white satin slippers, the silk flowers in my glistening hair, I was happy with my appearance. My brown eyes sparkled almost as vibrantly as Minnie’s, and for once I did not fret about my high, wide forehead; Sylvia had arranged my hair in a way that detracted from it.
“Now remember,” Sylvia intoned in her considered, deep voice. “Whatever happens, I’ll be right there.”
“ ‘Whatever happens’?” I smoothed the bodice of my dress anxiously. “What do you mean? What usually happens?”
“You never know. It’s a rough crowd, so you just never know. But you’ll be fine, Vinnie; no one would ever want to harm you, as tiny as you are.”
“Harm?” I recalled all I had read about Miss Jenny Lind; no newspaper had ever mentioned any kind of harm coming to her, except the threat of being crushed by adoring fans.
“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Sylvia repeated as hastily as she possibly could. Rising from two chairs put together, for she could not fit comfortably on one, she had to duck her head in order to clear the ceiling of the private stateroom set aside for performers.
I had been surprised to learn that there were two boats that made up my new home. The one I first boarded, and where my room with Sylvia was located, was a tugboat that towed the larger, flat-bottomed boat when necessary. Both were powered by steam belowdecks, from a great hissing, churning apparatus that gleamed hellishly red at night, and which frightened me more than I was willing to admit. All the living quarters—staterooms, kitchen, and dining room—were on the smaller boat, while the theater, taking up almost