The Art of Amusing

For painting the moustaches and eyebrows, Indian-ink or burnt cork will answer.

There is one advantage which the spectacle can boast of: it affords the ladies an opportunity for giving those sweet little musical shrieks which are so charming, and of being frightened generally – some ladies look very bewitching when they are frightened – besides giving ladies an excuse for clinging to gentlemen's arms, which is very pleasant for the gentlemen.

Mr. Merryweather now introduced to our notice a young gentleman who was detailed to amuse us with some specimens of ventriloquism. We had no notion before this time, when our attention was particularly drawn to the subject, how much suitable action has to do with ventriloquial illusions. As performed before us by the young gentleman in question, whose name was Noddles, the deception was capital; but when the sounds were reproduced in a private room, without action, for our special instruction, we marvelled that any one could have been deluded by them. First of all, Mr. Noddles imitated the drawing of a cork. To give effect to this, he turned his back to the audience, and feigned to have a bottle between his knees. The method of doing this is so simple that we think we can almost describe it in words. First you make three or four chirps in succession, such as people are in the habit of making to birds; this sounds like driving in the corkscrew. Then you place your fore-finger in your mouth, and force it out so as to make a loud pop, which signifies that the cork is drawn. Then you smack your lips together, producing a sound something like "Pop – pop – pop – pop – pop – pop" rapidly, to imitate the wine bubbling from the bottle. Voilà tout!

After that, Mr. Noddles pretended to call to a mason up the chimney, the mason answering in a husky voice from above, and finally proceeding with his work of knocking out a brick. The knocking was produced much in the same way as the pouring out the wine, by parting the lips suddenly; only, in the case of the brick, the note was in a deeper key, more resembling "Bubp – bubp – bubp – bubp." We noticed particularly that when the performer addressed the person up the chimney, he spoke with especial clearness, delivering the words, as much as possible, from the lips. This was in order to produce a strong contrast to the tones of the man up the chimney, which were produced far down in his own throat.

Another of his performances was to pretend that a dog was under the lounge, which refused to come out, and finally bit him when he tried to drag it out by the leg.

Still another consisted in imitating a man outside the door trying to force it open. Sometimes the supposed man would succeed in forcing the door a short way, when a gush of his loud voice would rush in, to be immediately cut short by the sudden closing of the door.

Mr. Noddles concluded his part of the entertainment by the performance of the jumping rabbit – the rabbit on this occasion being made out of a lady's fur cuff tied up with a piece of string. This crude counterfeit of bunny he laid on the palm of his left hand, with one end resting against his fingers, as represented in the cut, while with the other hand he stroked and caressed it, saying at the same time, "Be still, bunny – don't run away; if you run away the dogs will catch you, and you will be made into chicken-pie, and your skin will be made into a fur cap and sold in the Bowery to – hallo! hold on! hi!" the latter exclamations being elicited by the rabbit jumping up his arm, while he struggled to capture it and bring it back with his right hand. The first jump made by the rabbit was produced by a sharp jerk of the fingers, which sometimes sends him flying into the middle of the room with a most lifelike effect.

But now a more imposing portion of the programme claims our attention. A subdued jingling of bells is heard at the door, a few spasmodic bumps, and in trots the patron saint of the day – good Santa Claus, sleigh, reindeer, red cap, and all. (See next page.) It may not have been polite, but we could not help it, and greeted the good saint with an unrestrained roar of laughter. Surely never before was seen out of Noah's Ark such a comical steed, such legs, such proportions, and such a dislocated style of locomotion. No matter, he amused us more than a whole troop of the veritable article from Spitzbergen; and, as a simple act of justice between man and beast, we must admit that he propelled Santa Claus and his turn-out in a most efficient, not to say intelligent, style around the room. This was the Merryweather substitute for a Christmas-tree. Santa Claus came to distribute the Christmas-gifts – a task he performed with a discretion beyond his years. It is pleasing to record that no one, not even the dullest in the company, recognised Master Georgy in his disguise; but one and all, with admirable tact, feigned to be completely taken in, and fully believed that they were receiving a visit from the good saint himself.

After the vulgaris pueris, the elephant, and other specimens of zoology, it is almost needless to explain how the reindeer was constructed. Our illustration seems almost superfluous; still, something may be made a little clearer by them; and to them we refer the reader who wishes to learn how to build a reindeer. In the case before us, the hide of the deer was made out of a pair of army blankets, purchased by Merryweather for five dollars in Chambers street – about the best material that could possibly be selected for the purpose. These he cut out and fitted himself, and had them sewed on his wife's sewing-machine. The head and horns were made of thick brown paper, and here is the most difficult part of the animal to describe – not the most difficult to make, bear in mind. We hate long explanations, and yet we feel puzzled now, as we have often been before, to tell you how to make this reindeer mask. However, here goes: You require two or three sheets of thick brown paper, a bowl of paste (flour and water boiled), and a block of wood, from the wood-pile, of about six or seven inches in diameter. (See annexed cut.) You moisten one sheet of the paper slightly, and then mould it over the block; having done this, you smear the entire surface with paste, and mould another sheet of paper over that; then you smear the second sheet over with paste, and mould a third sheet over all; then let them stand till dry. This, when dry, can be removed from the block, and will give you a hollow cone on which you can paint the eyes and mouth of the deer, and to which you can likewise paste the horns, as indicated in this diagram. It may strike you that the diagram looks more like a bottle-nosed shark than the face of any denizen of the forest. You must not, however, be discouraged on this account; it will look all right when you get it in its proper place.

Need we add, that after this we had supper; when good-humor culminated in the grand old song of "Auld Lang Syne," all singing and joining hands round the table, down even to the little two and a half year old Dolly, whose auld lang syne dated no further back than two strawberry seasons. The idea of taking a "richt gude wully wut" with such a wee mite of a thing was so very comic that we all laughed right merrily, while Mrs. Merryweather, with tears in her eyes, clasped the child to her bosom as though she would protect it from some impending danger, possibly the approach of the monster "richt gude wully wut."

The ladies and children retired. And we gentlemen soothed our excited nerves with a quiet cigar in Mr. Merryweather's library.

CHAPTER XVIII

We shall now amuse the fireside with a little song, or rather we will try to tell our friends how to gladden their own chimney-corners with the songs of birds through the long winter evenings. It will be pleasant when the wind is howling without among the snow-laden limbs of the trees, to be reminded of the gay summer by the counterfeit notes of the woodland songsters. Still, we must warn our readers, that to acquire the art thoroughly needs patience and perseverance; we can but tell them how to make and use the instrument, and the rest they must learn for themselves. First look at the annexed diagram, and then procure a leek and cut off from the green leaf thereof a piece about the size of the diagram; then lay it on a smooth table, and with the thumb-nail delicately scrape away a semicircular patch of the green pulpy substance of the leaf (as represented in the diagram), being careful to leave the fine membrane or outer skin of the leaf uninjured – and there is the instrument complete. It may require several experiments to make the first one, but once having discovered the right way, they are very easily manufactured. The reader may not be aware of the fact that the leaf of the leek has a fine transparent outer skin which is quite tough, but by breaking and carefully examining one or two leaves, he will soon find out to what we allude.

The way of using this instrument is to place it in the roof of the mouth with the side on which is the membrane downwards; then press it gently in its place with the tongue, and blow between the tongue and the upper teeth. After the first two or three attempts, you will be able to produce a slight sound like a mild grunt; then as you practise it you will find that you can prolong and vary the sound somewhat, so that in the course of a couple of days you can imitate the barking of a dog and the neighing of a horse. With two or three weeks' practice, you will be able to imitate some of the song-birds; but to produce exact counterfeits of the best singing-birds will probably require months of study; the result, however, will reward you for all your pains; for certainly to be able to carry a mocking-bird, canary, thrush, cat-bird, and sucking-pig in your vest-pocket is no small accomplishment.

When not using the instrument, it should be kept in a glass of water to prevent its drying.

CHAPTER XIX

Those tranquil moods of which we have twice spoken come over us with still increasing frequency. Little Pickle is certainly a very smart boy. We are giving him lessons in drawing; he comes on rapidly, but requires a great deal of attention. Our time passes peaceably enough in study and contemplation. Nix has procured us some more works of Brahminical lore. It is a curious religion, that of the Hindoos, resembling in many points Christianity. Nix declares, in his good-natured way, that we are more than half converted already, and threatens to send a missionary to reason us back from heathenism, as we need a minister badly. He is an exceedingly good-natured fellow is Nix, though a little broad, perhaps, at times, in his style of jocularity. Our readers are probably not aware that there is a certain form of vulgar humor known as a sell, which consists in inducing some person to ask you a question, and then giving some idiotic answer in reply. The other day Nix overtook us in Broadway. After talking a few minutes he exclaimed:

"Oh, by the way, I have a note for you," at the same time feeling vigorously in his pockets.

"When did you get it? Who is it from?" we inquired, with some earnestness, for we were expecting a letter from some one.

"Don't know – don't know," he replied, continuing to fumble in his pockets. "Ah, here it is."

At the same time grasping one hand, he placed in it an oat – one seed of the grain upon which horses and Scotchmen are fed.

Nix laughed boisterously, and told us we were sold. We don't see very much fun in it.

We have spent another pleasant evening at the Adams'. We mentioned in a recent chapter making some preparations for a little party they were about to give. Well, it went off very pleasantly indeed; there were no hitches and no awful pauses. Indeed, our own pleasure would have been unalloyed had it not been for the presence of one officious person with large whiskers, who (there are always one or more such persons in every assembly) obtruded his attentions too much on the ladies; we observed that Bud, amongst others, was quite embarrassed by them. She was too well bred, however, to allow him to perceive her vexations, though I must say I think there is is such a thing as carrying complaisance and self-abnegation too far.

The scientific gentleman with gold spectacles was there, and had an electrical novelty for us which attracted much attention. At first we supposed the gentleman named was giving Little Pickle lessons in skating, for he was directing that youth's movements as he shuffled up and down the hearth-rug in his slippered feet. Rather jealous for the credit of our pupil, we informed the spectacles that there was nothing in the way of skating he could teach Master Pickle, he being already a proficient in that art. To which he only replied:

"Put your knuckle to his nose."

Rather staggered by this request, which savored somewhat of the ruder style of badinage, and the very last thing we expected from the decorous gentleman of science, we replied, with just a shade of hauteur:

"Sir?"

"Put your knuckle to his nose."

"Really, I do not comprehend you."

"Put your finger to his nose and you will get a shock."

All this time Little Pickle was sliding and slithering up and down the rug in a manner highly calculated to wear out that costly piece of furniture.

"You perceive," continued spectacles, in an explanatory way, "that he has slippers on his feet. By keeping his feet in close contact with the rug, and rubbing them violently up and down, he generates electricity in his body to such an extent that he can transmit quite a sensible shock to another person.2 Now try!"

We tried. Tick! A most unmistakable spark passed from the nose of L. P. to our knuckle.

The guests now began to crowd round, applying their knuckles to the poor boy's nose to that extent that it grew quite red, which, combined with a trifling unsteadiness his legs acquired from the unusual exertion, gave the dear boy quite a groggy appearance. Indeed, we observed his mother soon after draw him towards her and, stooping down, whisper something in his ear, at which he colored up, shook his head, and replied quickly, "No, only lemonade."

The scientific person, who was really a very amiable gentleman after all, taught us during the evening to make quite a curious little toy – to wit, a miniature camera. Having enlisted the services of Little Pickle, he procured a small pill-box, a minute fragment about half an inch square of broken looking-glass, and a fragment of beeswax. He first bored a small hole in the centre of the lid of the pill-box and another in the side; he then, with the aid of the beeswax, stuck the piece of the mirror across the bottom of the box at an angle of forty-five degrees to the axis of the disc of the box, so that by looking through one hole he could see objects through the other hole, thus enabling a person to look behind him. We feel that this description is not very clear, and yet for the life of us we do not know how to make it clearer. The best plan for the reader will be to look well at the diagrams showing the inside and outside of the camera, get the wax, glass, and pill-box, and then potter about with them till he gets it right.

Camera led the conversation in our corner of the room to the subject of optical illusions, when some one of course suggested the hat experiment. There is probably nothing the proportions of which are so deceptive as a hat. Reader, if you have never tried the experiment, take a stick and point out on the wall how high you think a hat would reach from the floor if placed on its crown, as represented in our sketch.

Aunty Delluvian, the first to try, took the stick and boldly measured off a distance of between two and three feet, and utterly laughed to scorn the moderate persons who satisfied themselves with ten inches. After each of the measurements was marked with a pencil, and the hat itself put beside them, showing every one to be wrong, Aunty's amazement knew no bounds. Indeed, she would not be satisfied till we brought our own hat to convince her that some deception had not been practised.

This was Aunty Delluvian's first visit to the Adams', having only recently been introduced through the agency of Nix. I was, therefore, not unprepared for some criticism on our friends; but when the good lady, towards the close of the evening, took us to one side and said confidentially and emphatically, nodding her head at the same time knowingly, "No flippery, flummery. I like her!" we were a little surprised, the statement was so emphatic and yet so vague. That was all she said, walking away briskly when she had so delivered herself, as though she had rendered a final verdict. To which of the family did she refer? To Mrs. Adams, we presume, and yet she might have said something about the other members of the family. She is a queer creature is Aunty Delluvian.

We are disposed to think that the ART of entertaining is rarely if ever regarded as an ART, and certainly never treated as such. We, however, on this occasion, laid our plans and arranged our forces with as much care and skill as a general exercises in laying out a campaign. We have as profound a respect for a good commissary as ever did Napoleon Bonaparte. We had our reserve, too, and our signal corps, so that should the battle waver at any moment, it might be immediately set going again. Amongst other resources, we had a number of surprise pictures concealed in a certain place, which were to be produced when occasion might require. One of these will be found on opposite page, and comprises fifteen faces in one. Pictures of this kind always amuse, and are fine provocatives of conversation.

Reader, when you give a party, do not bring your entire force into action at first; always have a reserve to fall back upon.

We saw a whole group which was showing alarming symptoms of demoralization rallied with a pocket-handkerchief. Nix saw the emergency, drew his handkerchief, tied one end round the tip of his finger, on which, with a few dots of the pen, he had indicated a comic face, and threw himself into the dispirited crew, exclaiming:

"This is Rantepolefungus, the mysterious magician of Morocco." Then, in a feigned voice:

"How do, pretty ladee and gentlemen? Me tell fortune, work spell, makee incantation. Me tell you fortune, pretty missee; you be, by-a-by, sixt wife great street contractor; favorite wife, he givee dust-cart full of greeny-back; much lovee you; cut off head of all other wife, makee you much happy; he givee you large gold ring big's flour-barrel to wear in your nosee, and six whiskey cocktails every morning. Pretty ladee, give great magician buckshees," and a whole string of other nonsense, the little Moor moving his head and hands all the time, suiting the action to the words.

The sketches opposite will show how the Moor is made.

As we walked home with Nix, smoking our cigars, we agreed that the party had been managed with consummate generalship. As we parted, he asked us if we should like to have a small statue of Vishnu? Wonder what he meant.

CHAPTER XX

Those red and green lights which lend such a glory to the final tableaux of fairy pieces on the public stage, can easily be introduced into private parlor performances. There is no danger in using them; they are quite inexpensive, and very easily managed. Warning, however, should be given to all asthmatic persons to vacate the ranch before firing off, as their fumes are apt to produce unpleasant results. When we first performed the play of Bullywingle the Beloved, the red light was calculated on as a startling feature of the performance. At the proper moment the match was applied, the combustibles behaved handsomely, everybody was entranced, all save one unfortunate gentleman, subject to asthma, who created quite a sensation by rushing out of the house in a choking condition, and remaining speechless in the snow for over twenty minutes.

The mode of working these lights is to place one of the powders, for which we shall presently give you prescriptions, in an iron shovel, and apply a lighted match. The powder will begin to burn slowly, emitting a bright red or green light, accompanied by volumes of smoke. Before exhibiting these lights, all others in the room, gas or lamps, should be turned down as low as possible.

If the operator stands behind the scenes, so as to be out of sight during the performance, the effect is what Artemus Ward would call Trooly Grand.

In order to procure the lights, go to some druggist and give him the following prescriptions. He will procure the necessary materials and mix them for you.

RED FIRE

Forty parts of dry nitrate of strontian, thirteen parts of finely powdered sulphur, five parts of chlorate of potash, and four parts of sulphuret of antimony. The chlorate of potash and sulphuret of antimony should be powdered separately in a mortar, and then mixed together on paper; after which they may be added to the other ingredients, previously powdered and mixed.

GREEN FIRE

Green fire, when burned in a reflector, sheds a beautiful light on all surrounding objects. Take of flour of sulphur thirteen parts, of nitrate of baryta seventy-seven, of oxymuriate of potassa five, of metallic arsenic two, of charcoal three. The nitrate of baryta should be well dried and powdered; it should then be mixed with the other ingredients, all finely pulverized, and the whole triturated until perfectly blended together. A little calamine may be occasionally added, in order to make the compound slower of combustion; and it is above all things requisite that the rubbing together of the materials should be continued until they are completely mixed.

It may so happen that in some of your parlor theatricals you may wish to introduce a storm, so we will tell you how to manage it.

There are several elements in a storm which can be counterfeited.

Thunder.

Snow.

The sound of rain or hail.

Lightning.

Wind.

The noise of thunder is produced by shaking a sheet of iron behind the scenes. The sheet should be about three feet square, and can be procured at any stove store.

Snow can be represented by throwing handfuls of small scraps of paper from above.

It is best to mount on a chair or step-ladder behind the scenes, and strew them down in the proper direction. The scraps of paper should be of course white and torn, not cut, of the requisite size.

The sound of rain or hail is produced thus: Get the carpenter to make for you a box, from eight to twelve feet in length, and of about four inches inside diameter; put in a couple of handfuls of dried peas, and then fasten up the box; when you wish to make rain, tilt up one end of the box and let the peas run down to the other end, then reverse the box and let them run back again. As long as you continue to do this you will have an excellent imitation of rain, at least as far as the sound is concerned.

Lightning is imitated by having a lamp in a box; whenever you want to produce a flash, open the lid suddenly and close it again. Of course all the other lights in the room must have been previously lowered.

Wind. Sufficient wind to blow about the flakes of snow can be produced with a very large fan, a wooden frame with calico stretched over it being as good as anything. But to simulate the effects of a gale, some other means must be adopted.

We will assume that the curtain rises on a storm scene; thunder and hail are heard, and fitful flashes of lightning illumine the landscape. Enter a wandering female, a little girl, we will presume, in search of shelter; as she walks on to the stage leaning forward as though struggling against the blast, her shawl and dress are violently agitated by the wind. To produce this effect attach two or three strong threads to the garments named, and at the proper time jerk and pull them with a tremulous motion, to impart the natural action. The preceding diagram will illustrate our meaning.

These instructions may be found useful to amateur players, and will certainly heighten the effect of the performance when they can be introduced.

There is another point in connection with make-up to which we may as well call the reader's attention before closing this chapter. All persons, no matter how ruddy their complexions may be, look pale or sallow under the influence of the bright light necessary to illuminate a stage; to counteract this effect it is absolutely necessary to rouge, or in other words, paint the cheeks pink; a little carmine from your paint-box will serve for this purpose, if you have not the regular rouge powder on hand.