The Complete Works of Artemus Ward, part 6 | Page 5

England, and in his
audience were the nobility of the realm. His first lecture in London was
delivered at Egyptian Hall, on Tuesday, November 13th, 1866. The
room used was that which had been occupied by Mr. Arthur Sketchley,
adjoining the one in which Mr. Arthur Smith formerly made his
appearances. The stage, with the curtain down, had this appearance
while Artemus was delivering his prologue:
(Drawing of stage with curtain closed and eight footlights.)
Punctually at eight o'clock he would step hesitatingly before the
audience, and rubbing his hands bashfully, commence the lecture.
6.2. THE EGYPTIAN HALL LECTURE.
You are entirely welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to my little
picture-shop.
I couldn't give you a very clear idea of the Mormons--and Utah--and
the Plains--and the Rocky Mountains--without opening a
picture-shop--and therefore I open one.
I don't expect to do great things here--but I have thought that if I could
make money enough to by me a passage to New Zealand I should feel
that I had not lived in vain.
I don't want to live in vain.--I'd rather live in Margate-- or here. But I
wish when the Egyptians built this hall they had given it a little more
ventilation.
If you should be dissatisfied with anything here to-night--I will admit
you all free in New Zealand--if you will come to me there for the
orders. Any respectable cannibal will tell you where I live. This shows

that I have a forgiving spirit.
I really don't care for money. I only travel round to see the world and to
exhibit my clothes. These clothes I have on were a great success in
America.
How often do large fortunes ruin young men! I should like to be ruined,
but I can get on very well as I am.
I am not an Artist. I don't paint myself--though perhaps if I were a
middle-aged single lady I should--yet I have a passion for pictures--I
have had a great many pictures-- photographs taken of myself. Some of
them are very pretty-- rather sweet to look at for a short time--and as I
said before, I like them. I've always loved pictures.
I could draw on wood at a very tender age. When a mere child I once
drew a small cart-load of raw turnips over a wooden bridge.--the people
of the village noticed me. I drew their attention. They said I had a
future before me. Up to that time I had an idea it was behind me.
Time passed on. It always does, by the way. You may possibly have
noticed that Time passes on.--It is a kind of way Time has.
I became a man. I haven't distinguished myself at all as an artist--but I
have always been more or less mixed up with Art. I have an uncle who
takes photographs--and I have a servant who--takes anything he can get
his hands on.
When I was in Rome--Rome in New York State I mean--a
distinguished sculpist wanted to sculp me. But I said "No." I saw
through the designing man. My model once in his hands--he would
have flooded the market with my busts-- and I couldn't stand it to see
everybody going round with a bust of me. Everybody would want one
of course--and wherever I should go I should meet the educated classes
with my bust, taking it home to their families. This would be more than
my modesty could stand--and I should have to return to
America--where my creditors are.
I like Art. I admire dramatic Art--although I failed as an actor.
It was in my schoolboy days that I failed as an actor. (Artemus made
many attempts as an amateur actor, but never to his own satisfaction.
He was very fond of the society of actors and actresses. Their
weaknesses amused him as much as their talents excited his admiration.
One of his favorite sayings was that the world was made up of "men,
women, and the people on the stage.")--The play was 'Ruins of

Pompeii.'--I played the Ruins. It was not a very successful
performance--but it was better than the "Burning Mountain." He was
not good. He was a bad Vesuvius.
The remembrance often makes me ask--"Where are the boys of my
youth?"--I assure you this is not a conundrum.--Some are amongst you
here--some in America--some are in gaol.--
Hence arises a most touching question--"Where are the girls of my
youth?" Some are married--some would like to be.
Oh my Maria! Alas! she married another. They frequently do. I hope
she is happy--because I am. (Spoken with a sigh. It was a joke which
always told. Artemus never failed to use it in his "Babes in the Wood"
lecture, and the "Sixty Minutes in Africa," as well as in the Mormon
story.) --some people are not happy.