University of Virginia Library

The Scriptural Panoramist.

[ILLUSTRATION] [Description: 503EAF. Page 296. In-line image; opening image for the story "The Scriptural Panoramist." The picture shows the Panoramist standing on stage in front of one of his murals staring in horror, eyes bugged out, at the pianist playing at the foot of the stage.]

“THERE was a fellow traveling
around in that country,” said
Mr. Nickerson, “with a moralreligious
show—a sort of 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, don'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 to 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 belong 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 complexions in the dark.

“Well, the showman began to swell himself up for his lecture, and the old
mud-dobber tackled the piano and ran 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 over his hips, and flung his eyes over his shoulder at
the scenery, and said—

“`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 into the welcoming
chorus from their lips. The lesson, my friends, is as solemn and instructive as
the story is tender and beautiful.'

“The mud-dobber was all ready, and when the second speech was finished,
struck up—

“Some of the people giggled, and some groaned a little. The showman

couldn't say a word; he looked at the pianist sharp, but he was all lovely and
serene—he didn't know there was anything 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—

“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
grated 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 way, though his confidence was beginning to get mighty shaky. The
supes started the panorma grinding along again, and he says—

“`Ladies and gentlemen, this exquisite painting represents the raising of
Lazarus from the dead by our Saviour. The subject has been handled with
marvelous skill 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 awakened 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 towards the
distant city.'

“Before anybody could get off an opinion in the case the innocent old ass
at the piano struck up—

“Whe-ew! All the solemn old flats got up in a huff to go, and everybody
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
door-keeper 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 the house.”'