It was a scene to hold the most thoughtless mute and to detain the most wandering eye. But whilst I stood gazing two figures drew near; as they approached I could hear they were arguing.
‘You can never persuade me,’ said Mr. Wedmold, ‘that the Americans have humour in the true meaning of the word, and there is but one meaning. They are funny, but they are not humorous. Their fun is either purely verbal or ridiculous exaggeration.’
‘What humourist have we ever produced,’ exclaimed Mr. Clack, ‘who can compare with ----’ and he named a funny American writer.
Mr. Wedmold’s silence was expressive of disgust.
‘Holmes’s humour is entirely English,’ said Mr. Wedmold; ‘by mentioning Holmes you strengthen my argument.’
‘What do you mean by verbal humour?’ said Mr. Clack.
‘The Yankee gets his grins out of odd words, some few of which still survive in our kitchens,’ said Mr. Wedmold; ‘or he gets his grins out of exaggerating or understating a situation. He will tell you, for instance, that, two men falling out, one threw the other over Niagara Falls, and the fellow got wet. The Yankee will look for a loud laugh at _got wet_; but there is no humour in it. A Yankee in telling a story will wind up by saying “So I said you git, and he got.” The laugh must come in here, for this “git” and “got” is the point of the story. But this sort of thing--and American humour is all this sort of thing--is by no means humour, and very little indeed of it is even fun. One page of Elia is worth the productions of the whole of the American humourists put together, from the date of Bunker’s Hill down to the latest effort of ----,’ and he again mentioned the name of a funny American writer.
I walked away and took up a position on the deck where I was unable to hear this argument on American humour, and where I could watch the burning ship in peace.
Very suddenly the great blaze upon the sea vanished. My eyes were upon the strong wild light when it went out, and I noticed that just before it disappeared the flaming masts of the vessel reeled so as to form a fiery arc, and then all was blackness where the light had been; whence it was to be supposed that the ship, in filling with water, had heeled over, and gone down like a stone. The vessel that hung near showed now very distinctly by the moonlight, and immediately over the spot where the burning ship had foundered, hung a great dim white cloud, which reflected the moonbeams as a cobweb might; but as I gazed this immense body of steam melted away, and nothing was to be seen but the pallid sails of the befriending vessel showing out against the dark cloud of smoke.