The Art of Amusing

Frank Bellew

The Art of Amusing / Being a Collection of Graceful Arts, Merry Games, Odd Tricks, Curious Puzzles, and New Charades. Together with Suggestions for Private Theatricals, Tableaux, and All Sorts of Parlor and Family Amusements

CHAPTER I

Erhaps one of the great social faults of the American is, that he does not amuse himself enough, at least in a cheerful, innocent manner. We are never jolly. We are terribly troubled about our dignity. All other nations, the French, the German, the Italian, and even the dull English, have their relaxation, their merry-making; but we – why, a political or prayer-meeting is about the most hilarious affair in which we ever indulge. The French peasant has his ducas almost every week, when in some rustic orchard, lighted with variegated lamps, ornamented with showy booths, he dances the merry hours away with Pauline and Josephine, or sips his glass of wine with the chosen of his heart in a canvas cabaret, whilst the music of a band and the voices of a hundred merry laughers regale his ears. He has, too, numberless fêtes, which he celebrates with masquerades and other undignified kinds of jollification. At these entertainments all are welcome, high and low, and all conduct themselves with a politeness worthy of our best society —only more. We, the writer of this, have often and often danced at these bals champêtres with a hired girl, a cook, or a nurse for our partner. Does it not sound plebeian? The Germans enjoy endless festivals and gift periods, when they have the meanness to offer each other little presents "that an't worth more than two or three cents;" but they are tokens of love and kindness, which make them all feel better and happier. Then our grumpy friend, John Bull, has his free-and-easies, and his cosy tavern parlor-meetings, and song-singings, and his dinner-parties, and his tea-fights, at which latter, be the host rich or poor, you will get a good cup of tea, and tender muffins, and buttered toast, and cake, and shrimps, and fresh radishes, and Scotch marmalade, or similar delicacies.

A delightful repast and a cosy chat, followed, perhaps, by a rubber of whist and a glass of wine or whiskey-punch, or mug of ale, according to the condition of the entertainer; then there is a general "unbending of the bow," and no one is troubled about his dignity. We have seen, ourselves, in England, in a stately old castle, a party of lords and ladies – for we, like the boy who knew what good victuals were, having been from home several times – even we have seen good company – we say that we have seen a party of lords and ladies, knights and dames of high degree, and of mature years, romping and frolicking together, like a lot of children, playing Hunt the Slipper, Puss in the Corner, and Blindman's Buff, without the remotest idea that they had such a thing as dignity to take care of; and no one seemed to have the slightest fear that any one of the party could by any possibility do anything that would offend or mortify any one else. The fact is, gentlemen or gentlewomen can do anything; all depends on the way of doing it. If you are a snob, for heaven's sake don't be playful; keep a stiff upper lip and look grave; it is your only safety.

However, we are improving. We have skating clubs. We play cricket and base ball. We dine later, and take things a trifle more leisurely. Theatre-going, our chief amusement, can hardly be reckoned a healthy relaxation, though well enough now and then. Sitting in a cramped attitude, in a stifling atmosphere, is not conducive to moral or physical development. What we need are informal social gatherings, where we may laugh much and think little, and where dignity won't be invited; where we need not make ourselves ill with bad champagne and ice-starch, nor go into the other extreme of platitudes, ice-water and doughnuts: but where both body and mind will be treated considerately, tenderly, generously.

Now we are going to give a few hints that may help to make little meetings such as we mention pass pleasantly; and should any of our austere readers be afraid to risk our programme in full, they can call in the children and make them shoulder the responsibility. "It is," you can say, "a child's party," and then you can enjoy all the fun yourself. The juveniles will not object.

If merely for the purpose of promoting conversation, something ought to be done, on all occasions of social gatherings, something to talk about, something that will afford people an excuse for getting from their seats, something to bring people together, something to break the ice. We have seen a whole party of very estimable people sit round the room for hours together in an agony of silence, only broken now and then by a small remark fired off by some desperate individual, in the forlorn hope that he would bring on a general conversation.

In our little sketches we shall be discursive, erratic, and unsystematic, just as the fancy takes us. Still, there will be a method in our madness; we shall try to give in each chapter a programme somewhat suited to some one season, and of sufficient variety and quantity to afford amusement for one evening.

In the first place, we must remark, in a general way, that we like a large centre-table. It is something to rally round, it is handy to put things on, and convenient for the bashful to lean against. On this table I would accumulate picture-books, toys, and knick-knacks – little odds and ends which will serve as subjects for conversation. If you can do no better, make a pig out of a lemon and four lucifer matches, or an alligator out of a carrot. But we will give some detailed instructions on this point in a future chapter. Any simple puzzles, numbers of which can be made out of cards, will be found helpful. Take, for example, a common visiting-card, and bend down the two ends, and place it on a smooth table, as represented in the annexed diagram, and then ask any one to blow it over. This seems easy enough; yet it is next door to an impossibility. Still, it is to be done by blowing sharply and not too hard on the table, about an inch from the card. Another little trick consists in making a coin (if such a thing is to be found nowadays) stick to the door. This is done by simply making a little notch with a knife on the edge of the coin, so that a small point of metal may project, which, when it is pressed against the woodwork, will penetrate, and so cause the dime or half-dime to appear to adhere magically to a perpendicular surface. When you have exhibited one or two tricks of this kind, some other member of the party may have something to show. Then, having secured the confidence of your audience, you may venture to play a hoax upon them. Never mind how trifling or how old these things are, they will serve the purpose of making people talk. Say, for example: "Now, ladies and gentlemen, I will show a trick that is worth seeing. There are only two people in the United States that can execute it – myself and the Siamese Twins. First of all, I must borrow two articles from two ladies – a pocket-handkerchief and – a boot-jack." Of course no one has the boot-jack; so, pretending to be a little disappointed, you say: "Never mind; I must do without it. Will some gentleman be kind enough to lend me three twenty-dollar gold pieces?" Of course no one has these, either; so you content yourself with borrowing two cents. You place one in each hand, and extending your arms wide apart, assure your audience that you will make both pennies pass into one hand without bringing your arms together. This you do by laying one on the mantel-piece, and turning your whole body round, your arms still extended, till the hand containing the other coin comes over the place where you laid down the cent; then you quietly take it up, and the trick is performed.

After a little conversation, you can try something which requires a little more preparation. The servant, whom you have previously instructed, comes into the room and announces that "that" gentleman has called to look at the pictures. You desire him to be shown in, and a short, broad-shouldered man makes his appearance. Soon after he enters, he turns his back on the company and begins to examine the works of art on the wall, lengthening and shortening his body to suit the height of the object he wishes to inspect. This is performed by your little brother or son, aided by a broom, a couple of cloaks, and a hat. How, you will doubtless be able to understand by looking at the subjoined picture.

Another trick of the same order can be performed in this wise: The servant comes in to inform you that a naughty little boy – Jacky or Willy – in another room won't eat his custard, but will cry for ice-cream, or roast-beef, or alligator-soup. Every one is invited into the room to see this singular child. You find him seated on a high chair, with a very dirty face, making grimaces. You take the dish of custard in one hand and a large spoon (the larger the better) in the other, and begin to expostulate with him on his perversity, but all to no effect; he only cries and makes faces. You then tell him if he does not behave better you will be obliged to knock his head off. He continues not to behave better, whereupon you give him a tap with the spoon, and, to the surprise of all, his head rolls off on to the floor. Your audience then find out that the naughty boy was made of a pillow and a few children's clothes, whilst the head was supplied by Master Jacky or Willy, ingeniously concealed behind the chair.

CHAPTER II

A good practical joke to play in a rollicking party, where you can venture to do it, is that of mesmerizing; you of course manage beforehand to lead the conversation to the subject of mesmerism, then profess to have wonderful powers in that line yourself. After more or less persuasion, allow yourself to be induced to operate. You then say:

"Well, I will try if there is any person in the company who is susceptible to the magnetic influence. It is only in rare cases we find this susceptibility; the person must be of exquisitely fine organization and steady nerve. Few people can look one long enough in the face to come under the influence; and, if the current be suddenly broken, the result is apt to be very serious, if not fatal, by producing suspended action of the heart and vital organs generally."

Having now fully impressed on your audience the absolute necessity of keeping still, you begin to look into the eyes of different persons, press their hands, make passes at them, etc., as though you were searching for the right temperament. At last you come to your intended victim, and pronounce him just the man. You now seat him in a chair, whilst you go into another room to prepare the necessary implements. These are two plates, each having on it a tumblerful of water. One plate, however, must be thoroughly blackened at the bottom, by holding it in the smoke of a lamp or candle. This done, you carry the plates and tumblers into the audience, and hand the one which is black to the victim, who is seated in a chair.

Before commencing operations, you must warn the audience that it is absolutely necessary that they observe strict silence, as the least word or exclamation will break the charm, and be attended with painful effects to both operation and operatee. You may tell how, after being once disturbed in this manner, you had most painful shooting-pains in your nose for fifteen minutes, that being the point in contact with your finger at the moment of interruption. All this is to prevent any one giving vent to some exclamation calculated to betray the trick to your victim.

You now seat yourself opposite the subject, and desire him to keep his eyes steadily on yours, and imitate the motions of your fingers. You then commence. First, you dip your finger in the water, and draw it down the centre of your nose; he does the same; then you rub the bottom of your plate with your fingers, and draw it over your chin; he follows your example, and makes a black smudge on his face; you rub the bottom of the plate again, and draw your finger over your nose, and so on for several minutes, till the victim has smeared himself all over with black. You then rise and compliment him on the steadiness with which he underwent the ordeal, adding, however, that he has too powerful a nervous organization for you to operate on. The victim will generally rise with a rather complacent smile at these compliments, at which point the audience will generally explode with laughter. The victim looks puzzled – more laughter – the victim, thinking they are laughing at your failure, joins in the merriment, which generally has the effect of convulsing every one, when the climax is reached by handing a mirror to the unhappy operatee, who usually looks glum, and does not see much fun in the joke.

CHAPTER III

We will now describe a little party we attended at a country house one Christmas, some years ago; and should any of our readers find aught in the entertainment they think worth copying, they can do so.

When we arrived at Nix's house all the company had assembled – it consisted of about ten grown people and a dozen children. All were in a chatter over a couple of little objects on the centre-table. The one a pig manufactured out of a lemon, and the other a dragon, or what not, adapted from a piece of some kind of root our friend Nix had picked up in the garden. We alluded to these works of art in our last chapter, and now give a couple of sketches of them. As will be seen, they are very easy of manufacture, and not excessively exciting when made, but they serve to set people talking. One person told the story of Foote, or some other old wit, who, at a certain dinner-table, after numerous fruitless efforts to cut a pig out of orange-peel, retorted on his friend who was quizzing him on his failure: "Pshaw! you've only made one pig, but (pointing to the mess on the table) I have made a litter." Then some one else discovered a likeness between the dragon and a mutual friend, which produced a roar of laughter. Then a child exclaimed, "Oh! what a little pig!" and some one answered her: "Yes, my dear, it's a pigmy." Then a young lady asked how the eyes were painted, and a young gentleman replied: "With pigment." Whereupon a small boy called out, "Go in lemons!" which was considered rather smart in the small boy, and he was told so, which induced him to be unnecessarily forward and pert for the rest of the evening; but as he never succeeded in making another hit, he gradually simmered down to his normal condition towards the end of the entertainment. One group got into conversation about the dragon, the dragon led to fabulous animals generally, fabulous animals to antediluvian animals, these to pre-Adamite animals, and so in a few minutes they were found deep in the subject of Creation; whilst the group next to them, owing to some one's having conjectured whether my friend's piece of sculpture could walk, and some one else having suggested that it might be made to do so by means of clock-work or steam, had got on to the subject of machinery, modern improvements, flying-machines, and were away two thousand years off in the future, making a difference of no less than ten thousand years between themselves and the other party. At about this juncture of affairs, we happened to notice a book on the table treating of a certain very interesting animal, the newly discovered African ape, a subject which was attracting a good deal of attention at that time. We took the work in our hand and read on the cover the inscription: "Portrait of the Gorilla." "Nix," we said to our friend, still holding the book in our hand, "if all we hear of this gorilla be true, it must be a most extraordinary animal, although I am rather inclined to be sceptical in the matter; however, I have no right, perhaps, to form an opinion, as I have never looked into the subject; but I'll get you to lend me this book to-morrow. I will take the greatest care of it, and return it; yes, I will, upon my word of honor. You never knew me fail to return any work you lent me." This we said rather warmly, thinking we detected a somewhat suspicious smile playing round the corner of our friend's mouth. "Oh! yes, certainly," replied he; "you can have it with pleasure – though I think your doubts will vanish when you have looked into it." We did not notice specially that all eyes were upon us. We carelessly opened the volume, and there, by all the spirits ever bought and sold! was a neat little mirror between the covers of the book, and reflected in it our own lovely countenance. Portrait of the Gorilla! eh? This was what the boys would call rather rough, but every one except ourself seemed to think it quite funny. It was some satisfaction, however, to know that every one of the party had been taken in in like manner before our arrival.

A slight but pleasant tinkling now fell upon our ear, and behold! a maiden entered, bearing a tray covered with tall crystal minarets, and transparent goblets, which sparkled and twinkled in the lamplight, followed by a more youthful figure supporting vessels of porcelain and implements of burnished silver, above which wreathed and curled clouds of aromatic incense; or, in other and better words, two hired girls brought in coffee and punch. Punch! was it punch, or was it negus, or was it sherbet? We don't know, but it was a pleasant, moderately exhilarating beverage, compounded of whiskey, raspberry syrup, sugar, and orange-flower water, and manufactured by Nix, as he subsequently explained, at a cost of about thirty cents per bottle. A few little cakes and some plates of thin, daintily cut slices of bread-and-butter accompanied the beverages, and were handed round with them. We are great believers in eating and drinking at all social gatherings. It is convenient to have something to do with your mouth when you are stumped in the way of conversation. If suddenly asked a puzzling question, or hit in the chest with a sarcasm, what a resource is a glass of wine or cup of coffee, in which to dip your nose whilst you collect your ideas, or recover your breath. Besides, they give you something to do, generally, in a small way. They afford opportunities for small attentions, and excuses for rising from your seat, or moving from one part of the room to the other. Added to which, wine and coffee and cakes are nice things to take – you have the gratification of an additional sense. Then, too, these little things are refreshing, and put you all in good-humor. Therefore, for all these good reasons, and many more, we insist on refreshments, and we insist, too, upon some kind of vinous stimulant; this ice-water and doughnut business has been carried altogether too far; had we less of it in our homes, less money would pour into the coffers of the bar-keeper. If persons are teetotallers, all very well; we respect their opinions, and, perhaps, decline their invitations; but for people who have no moral scruples on the subject, to ask you to visit them, and then insist on your drinking red-hot weak green tea, when you are already nervous, perspire readily, have a tender gullet, and hate the confounded stuff any way, is downright tyranny, and the very opposite of all hospitality and true Christian charity. However, our friend Nix held orthodox views on this question; so all went well. By dint of helping each other to things we did want, and offering each other things we didn't want, with the aid of a cup of coffee for those that liked coffee, and a glass of punch for those who liked punch, not to forget the little cakes, which came in quite handy to nibble at occasionally, we all began to feel wonderfully at our ease, and quite sociable. The conversation did not flag much; but once when it showed a slight tendency to wobble, Nix set it in motion again by introducing the subject of optical illusions in connexion with the height of objects. After informing us that a horse's head was exactly as long as a flour-barrel, and that a common stove-pipe hat was as broad across the crown as it was high from the brim to the top (both of which statements were argued pro and con), he drew our attention to the vast difference the position of the shoulders make in a man's height. This he illustrated by walking from the audience with his shoulders in their natural position, until, having traversed half the length of the room, he suddenly raised them, as represented in the accompanying sketches. The effect was quite startling, and very ludicrous. All the male part of the company tried their shoulders at this experiment, even down to Freddy Nix, a little three-year-old, who, after ducking his head down on his chest, and toddling off across the room, returned swaggering, evidently under the impression that he had made a perfect giant of himself by the operation.

This was nominally a child's party, so we were to have some performances. The folding-doors into the adjoining parlor were closed, and one or two members of the company who were to be performers retired. In a few moments the doors opened and revealed an extempore stage. The kitchen clothes-horse, beautifully draped and decorated, formed the background; while on a line with the foot-lights were two heads, one at each side of the stage, intended to represent Tragedy and Comedy. They were simply two large pumpkins with grotesque faces marked on them with black and white paint. In less than no time a most remarkable-looking stranger stepped forward and began to address us. Every one stared, and wondered whence this singular-looking person could have come, for we hardly supposed that Nix could have had him secreted in the house all the evening for our special surprise. At last it dawned upon us, one by one, that the individual in question was no other than Mr. Graham, a very staid gentleman, who had been with us a moment before. The annexed brace of sketches will show the appearance of Mr. Graham off and on the stage. But how was this change effected? We will explain. In the first place he had procured a narrow strip of black silk, which he had drawn round one of his front teeth, with the two ends inside his mouth, which, at a very short distance, looked exactly as though he had lost one of his teeth. (A little piece of court-plaster stuck on the tooth will answer the same purpose.) Then he had made a loop of horse-hair or grey thread, and securing two of the ends to the lining inside his hat, had hooked up the end of his nose with the other; in fact, he had put his nose in a sling. This altered the character of his whole face, so that his own wife would not have known him had she not heard him speak. He now addressed the audience in a long, funny, showmanic rigmarole, of which we only remember the following:

"Ladies and gentlemen, you have all heard of the Ornithorhyncus, which, as you are aware, is a species of duck-billed Platypus. You are familiar with the habits and appearance of the Ororo Wow; and you have listened to the sweet notes of the Catomonsterbung; but you are entirely ignorant of the newly-discovered creature known to scientific men as the Long-nosed Night-Howler, or Vulgaris Pueris cum Papyrus Capitus. This extraordinary animal is chiefly sugariverous in its diet, though it will eat almost everything when driven by hunger. It is perfectly tame, and will only attack human beings when it feels like it. I will now proceed to exhibit this extraordinary creature, requesting you only not to run pins into the animal, as it does not like that style of thing. Bring in the Night-Howler!!"

The last words were addressed in a loud voice to an assistant outside, who immediately appeared, leading an animal such as is represented in the annexed cut. This monster began immediately to emit the most hideous and unearthly noises, as became the Night-Howler. After walking round among the audience once or twice, the Vulgaris Pueris retired behind the curtain. The accompanying sketch will explain how the Night-Howler is made. Beyond the boy and the boots and the brown-paper cap, all that is wanted is a rough shawl or large fur cape. The howl is produced by means of one or two instruments, into the construction of which we will in a future chapter initiate our readers. With one of these instruments the most varied tones may be produced, from the grunt of the hog to the most delicate notes of the canary.

The performance now proceeded: the second act being some feats of strength by one of our party who had the necessary physical ability for that kind of display. These embraced the following programme, each feat being announced by Mr. Showman with some extravagantly pompous title: