STUART’S CONVERSATIONAL POWERS.
Reading edition
Dr. Waterhouse relates the following anecdote of Stuart. He was traveling one day in an English stage-coach, with some gentlemen who were all strangers, and at first rather taciturn, but he soon engaged them in the most animated conversation. At length they arrived at their place of destination, and stopped at an inn to dine. “His companions,” says the Doctor, “were very desirous to know who and what he was, for whatever Dr. Franklin may have said a half century ago about the question-asking propensity of his countrymen, I never noticed so much of that kind of traveling curiosity in New England as in Britain. To the round-about inquiries to find out his calling or profession, Stuart answered with a grave face and serious tone,
“‘I sometimes dress gentlemen’s and ladies’ hair’ (at that time, the high craped, pomatumed hair was all the fashion).
“‘You are a hair-dresser, then?’
“‘What,’ said he, ‘do I look like a barber?’
“‘I beg your pardon, sir, but I inferred it from what you said. If I mistook you, I may take the liberty to ask you what you are then?’
“‘Why, I sometimes brush a gentleman’s coat or hat, and sometimes adjust a cravat.’
“‘O, you are a valet, then, to some nobleman?’
“‘A valet! Indeed sir, I am not. I am not a servant. To be sure, I make coats and waistcoats for gentlemen.’
“‘O, you are a tailor?’
“‘A tailor! Do I look like a tailor? I assure you, I never handled a goose, other than a roasted one.’
By this time they were all in a roar.
“‘What are you, then?’ said one.
“‘I’ll tell you,’ said Stuart. ‘Be assured, all I have told you is literally true. I dress hair, brush hats and coats, adjust a cravat, and make coats, waistcoats, and breeches, and likewise boots and shoes, at your service.’
“‘O, ho! a boot and shoemaker after all!’
“Guess again, gentlemen. I never handled boot or shoe, but for my own feet and legs; yet all I told you is true.’
“‘We may as well give up guessing.’
“‘Well then, I will tell you, upon my honor as a gentleman, my bona fide profession. I get my bread by making faces.’
He then screwed his countenance, and twisted the lineaments of his visage in a manner such as Samuel Foote or Charles Matthews might have envied. His companions, after loud peals of laughter, each took credit to himself for having suspected that the gentleman belonged to the theatre, and they all knew he must be a comedian by profession, when, to their utter astonishment, he assured them he was never on the stage, and very rarely saw the inside of a playhouse, or any similar place of amusement. They all now looked at each other in utter amazement. Before parting, Stuart said to his companions,—
“‘Gentlemen, you will find that all I have said of various employments is comprised in these few words: I am a portrait painter! If you will call at John Palmer’s, York Buildings, London, I shall be ready and willing to brush you a coat or hat, dress your hair a la mode, supply you, if in need, with a wig of any fashion or dimensions, accommodate you boots or shoes, give you ruffles or cravat, and make faces for you.’”