Clowning Around

And well, none of that is actually true. Politicians are a rare breed mix a pinch of charm, dash of authority, and a whole heaping bowl of hubris, and you'll eventually have yourself a red blooded American individual with grand dreams of running the country. One man had such a dream over one d seventy years ago when he tried running for president. His name was Dan Rice, and he made

a living as an entertainer. He trained animals, he dabbled in political comedy, performed in stage shows, and parodied Shakespearean plays with his own humorous versions. Early in his career, when he had no money to his name and only one horse, larger circuses and troops made fun of his one horse show. Although they intended to insult him, the aspiring star flipped it around and used the phrase to

advertise his surprisingly enjoyable performance. As he gained in popularity, his show was able to generate more income and was eventually dubbed the Greatest show on Earth. Years before P. T. Barnum's own traveling circus would fly that flag. Legendary American author Mark Twain admired Rice so much that his description of a circus in Adventures of Huckleberry Finn was based on the performer's famous spectacle. But Rice was best known

for his enduring role as a circus clown. He didn't just run around and perform slapstick for cheering kids, though his was more like a stand up comedy routine than

your typical clowning around. He'd perform observational humor and sing songs about the news, which let audiences in on another passion of his politics, Rice once invited then candidate Zachary Taylor to campaign aboard his circus wagon, encouraging the future twelfth President of the United States to jump on the bandwagon, which, by the way, is how that phrase came to be. Later on, Rice decided to stop sharing the stage with

other politicians and enter the fray himself. In eighteen sixty four, he ran for the Pennsylvania Senate, using his immense popularity to help power his campaign, But when it later appeared that he wouldn't secure enough votes to gain traction in the polls, he dropped out. He didn't let the experience discourage him, though. Rice wanted to serve the people as best he could, and as they say, the show must

go on. When Rice tried again four years later to get elected to public office, he aimed higher, this time, much higher. You see, he wanted to be the president. At first, it's seeing the papers were supportive of his plans. He was a national treasurer, after all, beloved by audiences everywhere. Of course, Rice had his detractors, and not everyone thought that a former circus clown had the ability to lead

the people. In fact, during the campaign, a newspaper called The Somerset Democrat mocked his bid for the presidency, claiming that he had an I quote amassed wealth by catering to the tastes of the very lowest order of society in the disreputable capacity of a clown and showman, and that seemed to open the floodgates. More papers followed with rebukes of their own, and although he tried to respond through open letters and opinion pieces. His efforts had little effect.

It didn't help that a popular military general was moving up in the polls, no doubt bolstered by his impressive performance during the Civil War. So when it became clear that he wouldn't get the nomination, Rice withdrew from the race, allowing Ulysses S. Grant to go on and become the eighteenth President of the United States. Dan was an entertainer, a showman, and a patriot. He loved his country and thought of no better way to show that love than

to become an elected public servant. But don't think of him as a failure. He was incredibly patriotic, and those images of him with his long white beard went on to inspire a character we all know from the recruitment posters that were printed and distributed during World War One and two. He might not have become president, but without Dan Rice, America wouldn't have its most famous mascot of all, Uncle Sam. Typically when someone here is a tapping noise

in their house, they tend to think the worst. It could be a leaky pipe dripping inside the walls, or someone on the outside looking for a way in. In the case of the Irving family, it was an animal that had found its way inside. However, in ninety one, on the Isle of Man, it wasn't just an animal. The Irvings encountered. On one fateful September night, James, Margaret and their daughter Voiri came face to face with a

creature unlike anything they'd ever seen before or heard. It started with scratching and bizarre sounds emanating from the walls. The noises, which sounded like a cross between a baby's cooing and the squeaks of a rodent, caused them to investigate. And that's when they were introduced to Geff, a mongoose from India. And when I say introduced, I mean Geff introduced himself to them with his voice. Geff explained to the Irvings that he was a ghost that had taken

the form of a mongoose. Rather than shoo him away or capture him and invite the press photograph him, the Irvings instead invited him to stay with them. He guarded the house from intruders and hunted mice that had found their way inside. He put out the fire at night after everyone had gone to bed, and acted like the Irvings alarm clock, waking them up when they slept too late. The family rewarded Geff with food like chocolates and bananas, and often brought him with them to the grocery store,

although he usually stayed outside and talked to himself. Eventually word got around about the Irvings chatty house guest, and the papers did come knocking. Everyone wanted a glimpse of the talking animal. Some allegedly did, claiming that they even heard him speak, but not Everyone was willing to believe the family story, though for one, Geff had never been

caught on camera. There were photos of parts of the house where Geff was supposedly heard, as well as one of James Irving pointing to a set of pause coming out of the wall. Any attempts to snap a picture of the mongoose himself, though, resulted in shapeless blurs captured on film. And Geff didn't just talk. He made grandiose claims about his abilities. He said he could split the atom and read people's minds. He once told the Irvings,

I could kill you all, but I won't. Geff also had a strong attachment to the family's thirteen year old daughter Fire. James once tried to pull her bed into their bedroom, and the mongoose screeched that he would follow her wherever they moved her. This was seen by some as evidence that Vary herself had learned to throw her voice, making it sound as though it was coming from some small animal in the room when it wasn't naturally. People wanted proof. There were plenty of stories, for sure, but

very little in the way of actual evidence. The Irvings allowed photos of footprints and stains on the walls to be taken. They also provided a first sample for study. Once everything was analyzed, though it was clear what the Irvings really had on their hands. A sheep dog, not a talking sheep dog, just a regular kin sheepdog, their own named Mona. The fur, the stains, and the footprints all belonged to her, and the blurry photos they claimed

her of Geff those were of Mona. To just on the move, and after James died in Margaret and Voirie sold the house, claiming they left Geff the mongoose behind. Vary claimed until the day she died in two thousand five, that Geff had been real. She hadn't made him up, nor had she performed ventriloquism to fool everyone into thinking

they lived with a talking mongoose. In the years following their departure from the house, though, psychic investigators and ghost hunters stayed there for extended periods hoping to hear from the elusive mongoose. What they discovered, though, were possible explanations for gifts tiny chatty voice. As it turned out, the walls of the house had been built with significant airspace between the wood on the inside and the stone on

the outside. That gap basically turned the walls into eight big amplifiers, able to carry voices all over the house without anyone having to shout. As for Geff himself, few actually believed a talking mongoose had lived with the Irvings. A member of the International Institute for Psychical Research, theorized that Geff was nothing more than a creation of James Irving, a kind of split personality he created to help him deal with the stresses of daily life. But that's all.

It was just a theory. Even though much of the physical evidence points to the Irvings dog rather than a talking mongoose. The fact is that no one knows who Geff was or where he came from. Was he a ghost that had taken the form of a small weasel like creature, or was he a figment of James Irving's imagination. Whether we discover the truth or not, there's no denying that the possibilities are very curious. I hope you've enjoyed

today's guided tour of the Cabinet of Curiosities. Subscribe for free on Apple Podcasts, or learn more about the show by visiting Curiosities podcast dot com. The show was created by me Aaron Mankey in partnership with how Stuff Works. I make another award winning show called Lore, which is a podcast, book series, and television show, and you can learn all about it over at the World of Lore dot com. And until next time, stay curious.