Pyg (5 page)

Our routine, which began that Day, never varied. Mr Bisset would point to a card upon which was written a letter or number. He would then Name this card, using several slight indications
together: a motion with his eye to the proper card, a pattern of clicks (say, one click and two clucks), and then a third sign, which was a common Word in English. These words did not begin with,
or in many cases even include, the letter in Question, but were the sort of words one could easily use in a sentence without drawing any special Attention to them. Words such as
‘Presently’ or ‘Shall’ or ‘Receive’ or ‘Answer’—each of them a cue for a letter, such as J, O, H and N (which are in fact just the letters they
represented). He would vary the signs he used, sometimes clicking quietly just under his breath, sometimes employing the words in a Sentence, such as ‘Presently you shall receive your
Answer.’ At first the signs were always accompanied by his pointing out the correct letters on each card, after which I would approach the shelf on which they were laid, and pick up each in
my Mouth, then drop it on a chalked square on the floor, in the order in which they were Demanded. Once I had perfectly memorised this routine, he would gradually withdraw his other Signs,
employing his Eye only. It was remarkable to me that I nearly always Understood his intent, a Phenomenon I can only account for by Supposing that these oft-repeated Routines had established a sort
of
Intuitive
understanding between us.

This whole system, I soon realised, was designed to enable him to carry on with whatever Patter he liked, all the while sending me a clear set of Signals as to the Cards I was to choose. If
there was ever any doubt, a brief but imposing glance in the direction of the card wanted, was all that was needed. Which it was unlikely ever to be, for we rehearsed for at least an Hour every
day, for the better part of three Months, at the end of which time I had so Completely attuned myself to this Procedure that I could perform it quite without Hesitation or even
Thought
of
any kind. Indeed, whenever Sam chanced to use one of the words that were my signals, I was placed in great Distress, until I could relieve it by fetching the proper letter. By this means, quite by
accident, I found that I was able to communicate with Sam, and he with me; he quickly made up a set of smaller cards by hand-writing letters and numbers on squares of pasteboard and, by practice,
managed to learn the same Signals my master had Designated for them. Sam’s delight in our Discovery was unbounded, and each Night after Mr Bisset had gone to Rest, he would run me through my
Letters.

All this, of course, while it gave me great facility in Spelling any word upon Command, made me no more enlightened about their Sound or Meaning than a Blind man who had learnt his way among the
Shelves of a Library; a great
Feast
of the World’s knowledge was set before me, and yet I could not partake of so much as a single Crumb. My Benefactor at once set to work to correct
what he regarded as a most unkind oversight by demonstrating for me the Sounds of each letter and word, and how they came together to make human
Speech
. He would speak, then spell his
meanings, and follow this by spelling out a Word in silence, and have me puzzle out the whole. Well I recall the very first word I learned, and it will come as no surprise to you, my Patient
Reader
, that this word was S-A-M.

We had to be careful, of course, that I did not vary from my Routine with Mr Bisset, or give him any
Idea
that I in fact had come to understand the Letters I had previously arranged in
ignorance. And yet it did Amuse me to see the sorts of things he had me Spell—given
Names
were most common among them (John, James, Susan, Alice, Charles and so forth, in great
variety), along with words that were meant to answer some simple question, such as Y-E-S, N-O, P-E-R-H-A-P-S and N-E-V-E-R. There could be no more doubt that I was intended for a Show, and a show
whose chief Attraction would be to display my seeming-knowledge of the Names of those in the Audience, and my seeming-answers to their
Questions
.

I must admit that, despite the monotonous nature of these exercises, I took a better Conceit of Myself from this time, imagining the
Fame
of being such a Notable performer—but then,
of course, I thought back to my Prize at the Fair, and how it had been given to my Owner rather than to Me. After all, would it be Man or the
Pig
who would most surprise the Crowd?

At the same time, with Sam as my tutor, I was embarking on a Course of Study that, though Elementary for any Human child, was
Extraordinary
for a Pig. Among the books in the Study in Mr
Bisset’s house, Sam found a tattered copy of the Fables of
Aesop
, in the Translation made by Samuel Croxall for the use of the eldest
Son
of Viscount Sunbury, who had been at
the time just Five years of Age. It featured small wood-cuts at the Head of each tale, which were of great help in my Understanding their Sense, and since the Characters within were all represented
as Animals, I readily learnt their names. It struck me at once that these so-called Animals were far more Foolish in their nature than any in my Acquaintance, but I soon realised they were but
Figures, standing in for the Folly of
Man
—and, as Men are very foolish, the stories were many, and a great source of Pleasure. I should note here that our usual Practice was for Sam to
read the tale aloud, directing me to the New or harder words as he did so, and repeating them until he was sure I had their Sense. By this means, we proceeded far more Quickly than if, as Human
children do, I had to manage to
Speak
before I could Read.

Before long, we could see the signs that Mr Bisset was at last Preparing to set his Show before the Public. By turns, the Cats, the Dogs, Finches, Monkeys, a Hare and, finally a group of Turkeys
were all led into the Practice room and marched through their routines at double-time. All had been instructed along similar lines to those I had experienced, with Repetition being the
Key
,
and a series of soft, sharp signals the
Prod
for them to go through their Paces. The doors were now left open, and I was able to see the Monkeys dance, walk a tight-rope, and play a
Barrel-organ, observe the Cats at play upon their Dulcimers and regard the poor Hare beating a drum with a Mallet attached to his Tail. The only group of Animals that had no training as such was
the
Turkeys
, and here I must confess that Mr Bisset hit upon an expedient that did him little Justice, and would have greatly Dimmed the applause had anyone Known of it: he simply placed
them in a small wire enclosure, the floor of which was heated to the point where it became uncomfortable to
Stand
, and the efforts of these poor Birds to avoid scalding their Feet produced
the ‘Country Dance’ advertised.

Each day of the week that followed, we were visited by a constant stream of tradesmen with their vans, who delivered specially built cases for the Animals, loads of fresh Straw, canvas dividers
and drop-scenes, and stacks of handbills printed on brightly coloured paper. A large wagon, hitherto covered and hidden in a far corner of the Barn, was brought forth, and carefully painted and
refurbished. A much-
Splattered
man with an immense bucket of brushes appeared one morning; although a carriage-painter by trade, he fancied himself a far worthier artist than that, and
approached the task at Hand with the gusto of a minor
Michelangelo.
On each side of the wagon, he painted several oval cartouches depicting scenes of Mr Bisset’s performing Animals; I
am somewhat Ashamed to say that I was
Delighted
to find Myself the subject of the central, and largest of these. ‘THE REMARKABLE SAPIENT PIG,’ he wrote in letters of red edged
with gold, and had I the ability not merely to Read but to
Speak,
I am certain I could have given him the Shock of a Life-time, by quoting those very words back to him. The next day, the
word was given out—or the Sense of it, at any rate—that we were to Leave on the Morrow, and once again, I wondered at the capacities of the World, and at the Strange and Singular path
my way through it had so far
Taken,
and appeared very likely to take Again.

6

M
y next Progress through the World was far more Comfortable than my Last. Rather than being jostled about in utter darkness in a gloomy enclosure
filled with foetid Straw, I was ensconced in a lovely wooden Case, so spacious one might almost call it a
Room
, fitted with a small Trough of clear water and a stack of fresh Carrots, with
clean grass for my Bed and a view of the Road before me. This Case was cleverly fitted with a wooden Rim about the bottom, so that it held close to, and stayed secure atop, the other Crates beneath
and beside it, all of which were secured with heavy leather Straps. The Horses trotted along in their curious Manner, directed by Mr Bisset without the use of any Whip or other device such as a
coach-driver would employ, but only by his Voice, and in a manner so efficient that he never needed to Shout, but that the Horses would speed, or slow, or turn, or halt, in such a Natural manner
that it seemed almost as though the idea was their
Own
, and not an act of Obedience to another.

Our Tour, for so it was to be, commenced in the smaller Market towns along the road that led from Manchester to
Liverpool
, passing through Warrington, Newton-le-Willows, Wigan and
Prescot
. By this Progress, or so I inferred, Mr Bisset hoped we might work the Rough edges off our Act in smaller venues, where audiences were more forgiving, before we unveiled our
Production to the more Discriminating show-goers of the larger Towns and
Cities
. There was, I discovered, a regular Calendar-full of Charter fairs in each of these towns, held for time out
of mind on certain set dates, typically the
Feast-day
of some local Saint. Apparently these Saints must all have been Patrons of
Commerce
, for they very conveniently arranged that
their Festivals would follow in perfect sequence, so that a travelling showman, such as Mr Bisset, could attend each one of them in Sequence, without having to backtrack or sit idly, from the
middle of
May
to the end of June.

Being relative Upstarts in the show-world, we were generally relegated to the less frequented part of the
Pitch
, as a fairground is known, while more experienced showmen had the advantage
of the best Ground, where the greater number of people would Pass. Never the less, I believe we readily overcame this disadvantage, due in large part to Mr Bisset’s canny nature, and
Sam’s limitless energy. The Horses were our chief Ambassadors: outfitted with colourful Caparisons advertising our Show, they processed through the fair, pausing every so often to perform a
series of Tricks. They were so well trained that, at a single Word, they would execute their full routine, as well for Sam as for their Master. Sam had only to learn the bit of patter that
accompanied their act, and to lead them from place to place. By the time they returned to their Stalls, they had each brought a dozen or more fair-goers in their
Train,
and as every showman
knows, having a Crowd is the best way to attract a larger one.

The opening routines with the dogs and monkeys were, to my mind, of a very Ordinary sort, but they were colourfully arranged, with each calculated to be just slightly more impressive than the
last. The final scene, where one of the monkeys rode upon the back of a Dog, which executed a series of Leaps while the second monkey played a Barrel-organ, excited Universal shouts of pleasure,
especially from the Children present. This was followed by the ‘Cat Opera’ in which a line of three Felines sat on silken cushions and struck at Dulcimers, all the while seeming very
earnestly to read the Sheet-music set before them. At the same time, a series of Tom-cats would come a-caterwauling, yowling along with the music in a very tuneful manner—for Cats, at least.
This opera then gave way to a brief Circus, in which cats rode a Barrel down a Rope, climbed a pole and sprang into a Net, and batted a great Wicker ball around a Ring. The Hare then beat upon the
Drum with his Tail, while the Turkeys executed their ‘Country Dance’; it required only a Modicum of Imagination to suppose that they actually moved to this
Music
, rather than
leaping about to avoid burning their Feet.

All this was but a Prelude to my Appearance, which at first gave me a considerable fit of Anxiety. A performer is fortunate, I have since felt, if he struts upon the Stage only in the opening
Act, like the guards of Elsinore in
Hamlet
: they have no one to follow, but all else must
Follow
them. Whereas, if one’s Cue comes late upon the Bill, one must follow, and seem
to
Exceed
, every Act that has come before. On my very first performance, I was most Reluctant to emerge from my Compartment, so much so that Mr Bisset rapped upon the Enclosure with his
Cane, which sent me scurrying forth quite abruptly, and to much Laughter on the part of the Crowd. Happily, I soon recovered my
Composure
, and turned my mind entirely to the Task at hand,
for which Mr Bisset was an admirable Guide. He had taken the Precaution of asking those who wished their Questions addressed by the wonderful Sapient Pig, to fill in cards with their names and
their questions written upon them (if they
Could
not write, then Sam would take down their Particulars). Mr Bisset held these cards in his hand quite Openly, for of course it did not occur
to anyone that he had any means of Communicating their contents to me. He would shuffle them up a bit—in fact, making sure that there were not two persons named ‘John’ or
similarly common names as ‘Tom’ and ‘Tim’ as these would risk, however slightly, the audience catching on to his Signals. He varied the words he chose quite astutely, and
occasionally would use his Shoe to scuff out the code for some of the letters in Taps, such that neither his Utterances nor his Demeanour appeared to offer any
Clew
as to the right
answers.