HOW TO WRITE A BLACKWOOD ARTICLE.
THE DUC DE L'OMELETTE.
THE OBLONG BOX.
THE MAN THAT WAS USED UP.
THE DEVIL IN THE BELFRY
What
o'clock is it?—Old
Saying.EVERYBODY
knows, in a general way, that the finest place in the world is—or,
alas, was—the Dutch borough of Vondervotteimittiss. Yet as it lies
some distance from any of the main roads, being in a somewhat
out-of-the-way situation, there are perhaps very few of my readers
who have ever paid it a visit. For the benefit of those who have not,
therefore, it will be only proper that I should enter into some
account of it. And this is indeed the more necessary, as with the
hope of enlisting public sympathy in behalf of the inhabitants, I
design here to give a history of the calamitous events which have so
lately occurred within its limits. No one who knows me will doubt
that the duty thus self-imposed will be executed to the best of my
ability, with all that rigid impartiality, all that cautious
examination into facts, and diligent collation of authorities, which
should ever distinguish him who aspires to the title of historian.By
the united aid of medals, manuscripts, and inscriptions, I am enabled
to say, positively, that the borough of Vondervotteimittiss has
existed, from its origin, in precisely the same condition which it at
present preserves. Of the date of this origin, however, I grieve that
I can only speak with that species of indefinite definiteness which
mathematicians are, at times, forced to put up with in certain
algebraic formulae. The date, I may thus say, in regard to the
remoteness of its antiquity, cannot be less than any assignable
quantity whatsoever.Touching
the derivation of the name Vondervotteimittiss, I confess myself,
with sorrow, equally at fault. Among a multitude of opinions upon
this delicate point—some acute, some learned, some sufficiently the
reverse—I am able to select nothing which ought to be considered
satisfactory. Perhaps the idea of Grogswigg—nearly coincident with
that of Kroutaplenttey—is to be cautiously preferred.—It
runs:—"Vondervotteimittis—Vonder, lege Donder—Votteimittis,
quasi und Bleitziz—Bleitziz obsol:—pro Blitzen." This
derivative, to say the truth, is still countenanced by some traces of
the electric fluid evident on the summit of the steeple of the House
of the Town-Council. I do not choose, however, to commit myself on a
theme of such importance, and must refer the reader desirous of
information to the "Oratiunculae de Rebus Praeter-Veteris,"
of Dundergutz. See, also, Blunderbuzzard "De Derivationibus,"
pp. 27 to 5010, Folio, Gothic edit., Red and Black character,
Catch-word and No Cypher; wherein consult, also, marginal notes in
the autograph of Stuffundpuff, with the Sub-Commentaries of
Gruntundguzzell.Notwithstanding
the obscurity which thus envelops the date of the foundation of
Vondervotteimittis, and the derivation of its name, there can be no
doubt, as I said before, that it has always existed as we find it at
this epoch. The oldest man in the borough can remember not the
slightest difference in the appearance of any portion of it; and,
indeed, the very suggestion of such a possibility is considered an
insult. The site of the village is in a perfectly circular valley,
about a quarter of a mile in circumference, and entirely surrounded
by gentle hills, over whose summit the people have never yet ventured
to pass. For this they assign the very good reason that they do not
believe there is anything at all on the other side.Round
the skirts of the valley (which is quite level, and paved throughout
with flat tiles), extends a continuous row of sixty little houses.
These, having their backs on the hills, must look, of course, to the
centre of the plain, which is just sixty yards from the front door of
each dwelling. Every house has a small garden before it, with a
circular path, a sun-dial, and twenty-four cabbages. The buildings
themselves are so precisely alike, that one can in no manner be
distinguished from the other. Owing to the vast antiquity, the style
of architecture is somewhat odd, but it is not for that reason the
less strikingly picturesque. They are fashioned of hard-burned little
bricks, red, with black ends, so that the walls look like a
chess-board upon a great scale. The gables are turned to the front,
and there are cornices, as big as all the rest of the house, over the
eaves and over the main doors. The windows are narrow and deep, with
very tiny panes and a great deal of sash. On the roof is a vast
quantity of tiles with long curly ears. The woodwork, throughout, is
of a dark hue and there is much carving about it, with but a trifling
variety of pattern for, time out of mind, the carvers of
Vondervotteimittiss have never been able to carve more than two
objects—a time-piece and a cabbage. But these they do exceedingly
well, and intersperse them, with singular ingenuity, wherever they
find room for the chisel.The
dwellings are as much alike inside as out, and the furniture is all
upon one plan. The floors are of square tiles, the chairs and tables
of black-looking wood with thin crooked legs and puppy feet. The
mantelpieces are wide and high, and have not only time-pieces and
cabbages sculptured over the front, but a real time-piece, which
makes a prodigious ticking, on the top in the middle, with a
flower-pot containing a cabbage standing on each extremity by way of
outrider. Between each cabbage and the time-piece, again, is a little
China man having a large stomach with a great round hole in it,
through which is seen the dial-plate of a watch.The
fireplaces are large and deep, with fierce crooked-looking fire-dogs.
There is constantly a rousing fire, and a huge pot over it, full of
sauer-kraut and pork, to which the good woman of the house is always
busy in attending. She is a little fat old lady, with blue eyes and a
red face, and wears a huge cap like a sugar-loaf, ornamented with
purple and yellow ribbons. Her dress is of orange-colored
linsey-woolsey, made very full behind and very short in the waist—and
indeed very short in other respects, not reaching below the middle of
her leg. This is somewhat thick, and so are her ankles, but she has a
fine pair of green stockings to cover them. Her shoes—of pink
leather—are fastened each with a bunch of yellow ribbons puckered
up in the shape of a cabbage. In her left hand she has a little heavy
Dutch watch; in her right she wields a ladle for the sauerkraut and
pork. By her side there stands a fat tabby cat, with a gilt
toy-repeater tied to its tail, which "the boys" have there
fastened by way of a quiz.The
boys themselves are, all three of them, in the garden attending the
pig. They are each two feet in height. They have three-cornered
cocked hats, purple waistcoats reaching down to their thighs,
buckskin knee-breeches, red stockings, heavy shoes with big silver
buckles, long surtout coats with large buttons of mother-of-pearl.
Each, too, has a pipe in his mouth, and a little dumpy watch in his
right hand. He takes a puff and a look, and then a look and a puff.
The pig—which is corpulent and lazy—is occupied now in picking up
the stray leaves that fall from the cabbages, and now in giving a
kick behind at the gilt repeater, which the urchins have also tied to
his tail in order to make him look as handsome as the cat.Right
at the front door, in a high-backed leather-bottomed armed chair,
with crooked legs and puppy feet like the tables, is seated the old
man of the house himself. He is an exceedingly puffy little old
gentleman, with big circular eyes and a huge double chin. His dress
resembles that of the boys—and I need say nothing farther about it.
All the difference is, that his pipe is somewhat bigger than theirs
and he can make a greater smoke. Like them, he has a watch, but he
carries his watch in his pocket. To say the truth, he has something
of more importance than a watch to attend to—and what that is, I
shall presently explain. He sits with his right leg upon his left
knee, wears a grave countenance, and always keeps one of his eyes, at
least, resolutely bent upon a certain remarkable object in the centre
of the plain.This
object is situated in the steeple of the House of the Town Council.
The Town Council are all very little, round, oily, intelligent men,
with big saucer eyes and fat double chins, and have their coats much
longer and their shoe-buckles much bigger than the ordinary
inhabitants of Vondervotteimittiss. Since my sojourn in the borough,
they have had several special meetings, and have adopted these three
important resolutions:"That
it is wrong to alter the good old course of things:""That
there is nothing tolerable out of Vondervotteimittiss:" and—"That
we will stick by our clocks and our cabbages."Above
the session-room of the Council is the steeple, and in the steeple is
the belfry, where exists, and has existed time out of mind, the pride
and wonder of the village—the great clock of the borough of
Vondervotteimittiss. And this is the object to which the eyes of the
old gentlemen are turned who sit in the leather-bottomed arm-chairs.The
great clock has seven faces—one in each of the seven sides of the
steeple—so that it can be readily seen from all quarters. Its faces
are large and white, and its hands heavy and black. There is a
belfry-man whose sole duty is to attend to it; but this duty is the
most perfect of sinecures—for the clock of Vondervotteimittis was
never yet known to have anything the matter with it. Until lately,
the bare supposition of such a thing was considered heretical. From
the remotest period of antiquity to which the archives have
reference, the hours have been regularly struck by the big bell. And,
indeed the case was just the same with all the other clocks and
watches in the borough. Never was such a place for keeping the true
time. When the large clapper thought proper to say "Twelve
o'clock!" all its obedient followers opened their throats
simultaneously, and responded like a very echo. In short, the good
burghers were fond of their sauer-kraut, but then they were proud of
their clocks.All
people who hold sinecure offices are held in more or less respect,
and as the belfry—man of Vondervotteimittiss has the most perfect
of sinecures, he is the most perfectly respected of any man in the
world. He is the chief dignitary of the borough, and the very pigs
look up to him with a sentiment of reverence. His coat-tail is very
far longer—his pipe, his shoe—buckles, his eyes, and his stomach,
very far bigger—than those of any other old gentleman in the
village; and as to his chin, it is not only double, but triple.I
have thus painted the happy estate of Vondervotteimittiss: alas, that
so fair a picture should ever experience a reverse!There
has been long a saying among the wisest inhabitants, that "no
good can come from over the hills"; and it really seemed that
the words had in them something of the spirit of prophecy. It wanted
five minutes of noon, on the day before yesterday, when there
appeared a very odd-looking object on the summit of the ridge of the
eastward. Such an occurrence, of course, attracted universal
attention, and every little old gentleman who sat in a
leather-bottomed arm-chair turned one of his eyes with a stare of
dismay upon the phenomenon, still keeping the other upon the clock in
the steeple.By
the time that it wanted only three minutes to noon, the droll object
in question was perceived to be a very diminutive foreign-looking
young man. He descended the hills at a great rate, so that every body
had soon a good look at him. He was really the most finicky little
personage that had ever been seen in Vondervotteimittiss. His
countenance was of a dark snuff-color, and he had a long hooked nose,
pea eyes, a wide mouth, and an excellent set of teeth, which latter
he seemed anxious of displaying, as he was grinning from ear to ear.
What with mustachios and whiskers, there was none of the rest of his
face to be seen. His head was uncovered, and his hair neatly done up
in papillotes. His dress was a tight-fitting swallow-tailed black
coat (from one of whose pockets dangled a vast length of white
handkerchief), black kerseymere knee-breeches, black stockings, and
stumpy-looking pumps, with huge bunches of black satin ribbon for
bows. Under one arm he carried a huge chapeau-de-bras, and under the
other a fiddle nearly five times as big as himself. In his left hand
was a gold snuff-box, from which, as he capered down the hill,
cutting all manner of fantastic steps, he took snuff incessantly with
an air of the greatest possible self-satisfaction. God bless me!—here
was a sight for the honest burghers of Vondervotteimittiss!To
speak plainly, the fellow had, in spite of his grinning, an audacious
and sinister kind of face; and as he curvetted right into the
village, the old stumpy appearance of his pumps excited no little
suspicion; and many a burgher who beheld him that day would have
given a trifle for a peep beneath the white cambric handkerchief
which hung so obtrusively from the pocket of his swallow-tailed coat.
But what mainly occasioned a righteous indignation was, that the
scoundrelly popinjay, while he cut a fandango here, and a whirligig
there, did not seem to have the remotest idea in the world of such a
thing as keeping time in his steps.The
good people of the borough had scarcely a chance, however, to get
their eyes thoroughly open, when, just as it wanted half a minute of
noon, the rascal bounced, as I say, right into the midst of them;
gave a chassez here, and a balancez there; and then, after a
pirouette and a pas-de-zephyr, pigeon-winged himself right up into
the belfry of the House of the Town Council, where the
wonder-stricken belfry-man sat smoking in a state of dignity and
dismay. But the little chap seized him at once by the nose; gave it a
swing and a pull; clapped the big chapeau de-bras upon his head;
knocked it down over his eyes and mouth; and then, lifting up the big
fiddle, beat him with it so long and so soundly, that what with the
belfry-man being so fat, and the fiddle being so hollow, you would
have sworn that there was a regiment of double-bass drummers all
beating the devil's tattoo up in the belfry of the steeple of
Vondervotteimittiss.There
is no knowing to what desperate act of vengeance this unprincipled
attack might have aroused the inhabitants, but for the important fact
that it now wanted only half a second of noon. The bell was about to
strike, and it was a matter of absolute and pre-eminent necessity
that every body should look well at his watch. It was evident,
however, that just at this moment the fellow in the steeple was doing
something that he had no business to do with the clock. But as it now
began to strike, nobody had any time to attend to his manoeuvres, for
they had all to count the strokes of the bell as it sounded."One!"
said the clock."Von!"
echoed every little old gentleman in every leather-bottomed arm-chair
in Vondervotteimittiss. "Von!" said his watch also; "von!"
said the watch of his vrow; and "von!" said the watches of
the boys, and the little gilt repeaters on the tails of the cat and
pig."Two!"
continued the big bell; and"Doo!"
repeated all the repeaters."Three!
Four! Five! Six! Seven! Eight! Nine! Ten!" said the bell."Dree!
Vour! Fibe! Sax! Seben! Aight! Noin! Den!" answered the others."Eleven!"
said the big one."Eleben!"
assented the little ones."Twelve!"
said the bell."Dvelf!"
they replied perfectly satisfied, and dropping their voices."Und
dvelf it is!" said all the little old gentlemen, putting up
their watches. But the big bell had not done with them yet."Thirteen!"
said he."Der
Teufel!" gasped the little old gentlemen, turning pale, dropping
their pipes, and putting down all their right legs from over their
left knees."Der
Teufel!" groaned they, "Dirteen! Dirteen!!—Mein Gott, it
is Dirteen o'clock!!"Why
attempt to describe the terrible scene which ensued? All
Vondervotteimittiss flew at once into a lamentable state of uproar."Vot
is cum'd to mein pelly?" roared all the boys—"I've been
ongry for dis hour!""Vot
is com'd to mein kraut?" screamed all the vrows, "It has
been done to rags for this hour!""Vot
is cum'd to mein pipe?" swore all the little old gentlemen,
"Donder and Blitzen; it has been smoked out for dis hour!"—and
they filled them up again in a great rage, and sinking back in their
arm-chairs, puffed away so fast and so fiercely that the whole valley
was immediately filled with impenetrable smoke.Meantime
the cabbages all turned very red in the face, and it seemed as if old
Nick himself had taken possession of every thing in the shape of a
timepiece. The clocks carved upon the furniture took to dancing as if
bewitched, while those upon the mantel-pieces could scarcely contain
themselves for fury, and kept such a continual striking of thirteen,
and such a frisking and wriggling of their pendulums as was really
horrible to see. But, worse than all, neither the cats nor the pigs
could put up any longer with the behavior of the little repeaters
tied to their tails, and resented it by scampering all over the
place, scratching and poking, and squeaking and screeching, and
caterwauling and squalling, and flying into the faces, and running
under the petticoats of the people, and creating altogether the most
abominable din and confusion which it is possible for a reasonable
person to conceive. And to make matters still more distressing, the
rascally little scape-grace in the steeple was evidently exerting
himself to the utmost. Every now and then one might catch a glimpse
of the scoundrel through the smoke. There he sat in the belfry upon
the belfry-man, who was lying flat upon his back. In his teeth the
villain held the bell-rope, which he kept jerking about with his
head, raising such a clatter that my ears ring again even to think of
it. On his lap lay the big fiddle, at which he was scraping, out of
all time and tune, with both hands, making a great show, the
nincompoop! of playing "Judy O'Flannagan and Paddy O'Rafferty."Affairs
being thus miserably situated, I left the place in disgust, and now
appeal for aid to all lovers of correct time and fine kraut. Let us
proceed in a body to the borough, and restore the ancient order of
things in Vondervotteimittiss by ejecting that little fellow from the
steeple.