University of Virginia Library

HOW ELI PERKINS LECTURED IN POTTSVILLE.

(From an Article written by Mark Twain for Harper's Magazine.)

The Pottsvillians resolved to have a course of lectures
last winter. Every town—that is, every town that
pretends to be any town at all
nowadays—must branch out in a
course of lectures in the winter.
So the chief citizens of Pottsville
got together last Fall and decided
that they would have a course of
six lectures. They also voted that
they would have a course of lectures
that would, to use a Pottsville expression,
knock the spots off of any course of lectures
ever delivered in Pottsville. Then they wrote to the
American Literary Bureau at the Cooper Institute to
send them six lecturers, at $100 each. One man for
theology, one for brass-band rhetoric, one for oratory,
one poet, one reader, and one humorist. The Bureau
finally made selections as follows:

             

Theology,	Eli Perkins,	$100
Oratory,	Daniel O'Connel,	100
Rhetorician,	Josh Billings,	100
Humorist,	Wendell Phillips,	100
Poet,	Edgar A. Poe,	100
Reader,	Cardinal McCloskey,	100
		$600

As soon as it was known in Pottsville that Mr. Perkins
was selected to open the course, the committee
addressed him a note telling him that he was engaged
in Pottsville, and asked a speedy reply.

Mr. Perkins replied as follows:

This letter was read before the Lecture Committee,
causing much enthusiasm. Pottsville was immediately
placarded with large posters announcing the coming

of the distinguished lecturer. One placard read
thus:

CITIZENS, RALLY!

Whereas, that notorious humorist,

Eli Perkins,

has been infesting the Western States and
depopulating her large cities, and now
threatens to

LECTURE

our unfortunate citizens at the

Pottsville Baptist Church, Jan. 3d,

unless he is paid a large sum of money
to desist; therefore, all patriotic citizens
are called upon to

RALLY

at the Baptist Church that same evening,
Jan. 3d, and hold an indignation

MEETING

to protest against this impending calamity.

By order of

Lecture Committee.

Tickets to indignation meeting, 50 cts.

These handbills caused great excitement in Pottsville.
Everybody was on tip-toe to see and hear the distinguished
lecturer. On the day of his expected

arrival great crowds of people thronged the depot,
hoping to catch a glimpse of the distinguished visitor.

At length he came, but in such a quiet, modest
manner that no one saw him. While great crowds of
Pottsvillians were watching the train with strained
eyes Mr. Perkins quietly slipped out of the emigrant car,
with his umbrella in one hand and carpet bag in the
other, walked up to the Pottsville House, and sat
down in the billiard room.

The arrival of the distinguished stranger was thus
announced by Col. Ramsey in the Miner's Journal,
next morning:

Distinguished Arrival.—A remarkable old gentleman
with German silver spectacles, long drab overcoat,
and a Greeley looking carpet-bag, arrived at the
Pottsville House yesterday from the Pittsburgh train.
The old man wabbled up to the counter, took off his
old slouch hat, solemnly shook hands with Mr. Jerry
Griffith, wiped his bald head with an old red bandana
handkerchief, looked over his glasses, and wrote,

“Have a room, Mr. Perkins?” asked Mr. Griffith, as
he pressed the blotter over the old man's name.

“O no, thank ye, lan'lord.”

“Have supper, sir?”

“No, I guess not. Eli, my nevvy, and I, speak—”

“But let me take your carpet bag, Mr. Perkins,”
interrupted Mr. Griffith.

“No, I'm obleeged ter you, lan'lord—Eli and I —”

“Well, goodness gracious, old man! what can I do
for you? What —”

“O, nothin' 'tall, lan'lord. We jes thought we'd like
to A-R-R-I-V-E here; that's all. We've been knockin'
'round through Pennsylvania right smart, an' it's a
good while since we've 'rived at a hotel, an' I thought
I'd like to 'rive here with my Eli to-night. You see,
lan'lord, my nevvy is an edicated young man, an' he's
goin' to lectur the edicated classes here in Pottsville
to-night, an we want to jes sit 'round the halls here
an' wait till the time comes; that's all.”

Our reporter called on Mr. Perkins early this morning
and found him engaged in writing his great lecture
on a backgammon board in the billiard-room.

“Have you any press notices of your coming lecture,
Mr. Perkins—something to republish in the Journal?”
asked our reporter.

“Press notices, young man!” said Mr. Perkins,
“Why, yes, bushels of 'em. I've done nothing but
write press notices for the last month. I—”

“What! you don't write your own press notices, do
you, Mr. Perkins?”

“Sartainly, young man, sartainly,” replied Uncle
Consider, as he fished files of the Congressional Globe,
Chicago Times, and other newspapers out of his overcoat
pocket. “Look a here! See what the Chicago
Times says!” and the old man put on his glasses and
read as follows:

—Chicago Times.

“That's complimentary, Mr. Perkins,” replied our
reporter. “Have you got any more?”

“Bushels of 'em, sir—b-u-s-h-e-l-s. Let me read you
this from the Yale College Currant,” and the old man
continued to read:

—Yale College Courant.

“Very complimentary, Mr. Perkins,” observed our
reporter enthusiastically. “Have you other criticisms?”

“Bushels of 'em, young man, wagon loads. Want to
hear what the Christian Union says about Eli's great
lectur?”

“You don't say the Christian Union compliments him
do you?”

“Sartenly. Let me show you,” and Uncle Consider
put his finger on this paragraph and handed it to our
reporter:

“Beautiful criticisms! beautiful,” exclaimed our reporter,
grasping the old man by the hand.

“If you call that beautiful, young man, just hear
what Henry Ward Beecher says about Eli.”

“Does Henry indorse him, too?” asked our reporter.

“Indorse him! I guess he does. Just listen now and
hear what Henry wrote to Wilkes' Spirit of the Times:

“And Henry wrote that, Mr. Perkins?”

“Sartinly; and just listen to what De Witt C. Talmage
says! Listen—”

“No; I hear enough! Let me go!” exclaimed our
reporter, and he fled back to the Journal office.

The reserved seat tickets to the great lecture read
as follows:

“ELI PERKINS” (AT LARGE):
HIS TALK ABOUT SARATOGA.

AND WHAT HIS COUSIN JULIA, UNCLE CONSIDER, AND HIS FRIENDS
THE EDITORS, DOCTORS AND LAWYERS SAID AND DID THERE.

“Mr. Perkins” distributes a $17.00 Chromo to all who remain
to the end of the Lecture.

Parties of six who sit the Lecture out will be given
A HOUSE AND LOT.

Tickets admitting a Man and Wife (his own Wife) to Reserved
Seats, $1.00. Single Men admitted for 75 Cents.

ADMIT ONE.

PLEASE DON'T
TURN OVER.

Pottsville Opera House, Jan. 3d.

It was noticeable at the lecture in the evening that
many people came especially to get the chromos. One
party of six slept entirely through the lecture, awaking

[ILLUSTRATION] [Description: 627EAF. Page 219. In-line Illustrations. The first image is of an old man in glasses; the caption reads, "ELDER CLEVELAND." The second image is a portrait of a middle-aged man with a moustache; the caption reads, "ELI PERKINS,
Melvi le D. Landon.] just in time to claim the house and lot. The house
and lot was a smoke house and a lot of ashes.

At eight o'clock the great orator
stepped upon the platform accompanied
by Elder Cleveland, who
officiated on the Sabbath from the
same desk. The church was crowded.
After the applause had somewhat
subsided, Brother Cleveland
arose and said:

“Brothers and Sisters—I have the pleasure of introducing
to you to-night Brother Perkins, from New York.
I am told that he is to deliver a humorous lecture, but
I wish you all to bear in mind that this is the house
of God.”

As Elder Cleveland
finished, Mr. Perkins
stepped forward, pulled
off his audience, and,
bowing to his overcoat,
said:

I used to object to
being introduced to
strangers; and for hundreds
and hundreds of
years, I never permitted
myself to be introduced
to anybody—till
I got well acquainted
with them. (Laughter.)

I suppose, my

friends, that I ought to tell you how I came to deliver
this lecture. Well, it was this way: I was riding in
the cars the other day with an old Granger who lives
just over the Pennsylvania line in Ohio. As we rode
along, I looked out of the car window and whistled
one of my favorite tunes like this:

“Did you make up that tune?” inquired the
Granger.

“Yes, sir,” I replied. I do that kind of thing all
the time. My name is Perkins. I'm—”

“What! Eli Perkins?”

“Yes, sir.”

“The man who lectures?”

“Yes, sir; I'm going to Marietta now.”

“Going to marry who?”

“I mean I'm going to Mari—etta.”

“Yes, I heard you say so. Nice girl—rich, I 'spect,
too, ain't she?”

“No, sir; you don't understand me. I'm going to
lecture at Marietta. I'm—”

“Then you really do lecture, do you?” continued
the Granger.

“Why, of course I do.”

“Been lecturing much in Ohio?”

“Yes—a good many nights.”

“Well, now, Mr. Perkins,” said the Granger, as he
dropped his voice to a confidential whisper, “why

don't you lecture over in Pennsylvania? We just
hate Pennsylvania, we do!”

The whole audience were now in tears, one above
the other, and continued so while Mr. Perkins spoke
for an hour as follows:

* Glorious * Constitution *

* forefathers * Bunker Hill *

* Gen. Washington * Stars and Stripes *

* Beautiful woman— * liberty forever *

The great orator concluded his lecture by saying:
“The wealthy young ladies in this audience will now
have an opportunity of taking the lecturer by the
hand.” No one in the vast audience moved toward
the speaker. But when he remarked, “The lecturer
will now be pleased to shake hands with all young
ladies under twenty years of age,” there was a great
rush for the speaker's platform. For over an hour Mr.
Perkins shook hands with long rows of young ladies—
all under twenty years of age. Then putting his
hundred dollars in his pocket the great orator took
the train for Philadelphia.