A New Vocation for Me

     I looked up into the eyes of a broadly smiling white man whose age I approximated as forty
years wearing a rather dusty top hat and coat with a blazing green cravat. His extravagant black whiskers and wide purple and white striped trousers completed the portrait of a somewhat seedy-looking dandy. He doffed the top hat and raised one thick black brow.

     “Are you herewith engaged with a troupe?” he asked, his baritone voice trilling melodiously. I didn’t know what he was referring to, so I merely shrugged.  He eyed me in a speculative manner, at the same time drawing his fingers along his whiskers.

Wallack Theater, 1860s.

     “You are an excellent tumbler, my boy,” he said, “and quite a performer! To whom may I speak in terms of engaging your services for a production?” I continued to stare at him as he continued his visual appraisal. My countenance must have reflected great confusion, as he bowed deeply with a theatrical flourish and spoke again.

     “I am Patrick O’Carroll, founder and topmost delineator of the O’Carroll Minstrels, strong in faith, war, and performance! We will be appearing before the grand stage of the Wallack! And you are…?”

     “M—Mel, sir,” I replied haltingly. 

     “Do you have no home, boy?” I shook my head. He smiled again, placing his hands upon my shoulders. “Well, you shall have one now! I am hereby delighted to employ you in my brand new entertainment, featuring variety performances and minstrel delights! You will be my Topsy!” He seemed so pleased that, although I still had no inkling as to what he desired of me, I felt bound to show gratitude.

     “Thank you, sir.” 

     “You are hungry, no doubt,” he said. “Well, we shall get you some hot soup and good bread.” In spite of any wariness I might have felt, the mere thought of hot food caused me to dispel all other considerations. I decided to follow Patrick O’Carroll.

 

[TO BE CONTINUED.]