  The drawing-room is the scene of almost all social gatherings, whether dancing, theatricals, games, or other amusements be provided. EtiquetteEtiquette.—This chapter cannot commence more appropriately than with a few remarks on the customs observed in society and the rules which regulate visits and parties. To enter fully into all these matters would occupy a very large amount of space. Those requiring more detail cannot do better than consult the weekly pages of the Queen, in which excellent journal often appear articles on the latest fashionable customs, and where an inquiry from one in doubt is sure to meet with a polite reply giving the necessary information. Styles and Titles.—It seems difficult to make it clear to the understandings of many persons that it is incorrect, in speaking of an earl’s, marquis’s, or duke’s daughter, to omit her Christian name. They must know that she is habitually styled Lady Clara Vere, yet they persist in calling her Lady Vere, as if she were a peeress or a baronet’s wife, instead of a “lady in her own right.” Another equally common blunder is to speak of a baronet’s wife as Lady Emma Jones; if for purposes of identification it is necessary to mention her Christian name at all, it should be as Emma Lady Jones, as nothing but being the daughter of a peer higher in rank than a viscount gives the right to be called Lady Emma. Again, it is impossible to persuade some people that it is the sons of dukes and marquises only who are called lords; they persist in imagining that because earls’ daughters are styled lady, it is impossible that their younger brothers should be only Hon. Mr. The title of dowager is another great stumbling-block. In propriety it should only be borne by the mother of the reigning peer or baronet. Should, therefore, a peer (let us call him Earl of Brighton) succeed his father, his mother, the widowed countess, should be styled the Countess Dowager of Brighton. Should he, however, succeed to his uncle, brother, or cousin, that relative’s widow would have no claim to the title of dowager, but should be addressed as Mary, Countess of Brighton. It is a very common saying that a woman may rise in rank, but can never lose what she has once possessed; but, like many common sayings, this, though the general rule, is not strictly accurate. A duke’s daughter takes precedence far before the wife of a baron. Yet if she marry a baron who is a peer in his own right (not merely a title of courtesy, such as are borne by peers’ eldest sons), she at once, on becoming his wife, loses her own rank, and has no precedence, save that of her husband. Shaking hands.—You would not shake hands on being casually introduced to a person altogether a stranger to you, but yet there are so many occasions when it is both proper and correct to shake hands on first being introduced, and the rule on this head is a very elastic one. For instance, a host and hostess invariably shake hands with every stranger introduced to them at their house. You would shake hands on being introduced to the relatives of your relations by marriage, such as your sister-in-law’s sister or your sister-in-law’s mother; with your brother-in-law’s brother or father; with your future husband’s uncle and aunt or cousins; with a brother or sister or mother of an intimate friend; or under any similar circumstances. If you do not shake hands on being introduced, ought you to do so on departure? That depends. There are occasions when to shake hands would be polite; and there are occasions when your hand would Letter Writing.—To commence a letter to a comparative stranger, or to a person with whom the writer is but slightly acquainted, on any matter of interest, is the first difficulty to be got over. In all communications with strangers, or almost strangers, it would be correct to write in the third person. A very slight acquaintance, however, or a faint personal knowledge, would authorise a letter being written in the first person if it were to be of any length. Notes are principally confined to the briefest of communications, as, when they are lengthy, the repetition of the pronoun “she” and “her,” “he” and “him,” become wearisome if not involved, to say nothing of the possessive pronouns which are frequently brought into use, with the addition of surnames. When it is imperative to write in the third person, it is most desirable to construct each sentence with care and with due regard to an extravagant use of pronouns, and never at any time to resort to the vulgar expedient of attempting a sort of compromise by making the initial letter of the writer, and of the person written to, do duty for their respective surnames. To frame a note without introducing “compliments” at its commencement is the received mode of writing one. The subject under discussion does not require this preliminary introduction, and it is best to embody it in the opening sentence. There are few people careless or ignorant enough to lapse from the third person into the first in the course of a short note; but still it is worth guarding against. To turn from notes to letters, again it is observable that a cramped style, or a small Italian handwriting, are no longer in vogue, and, when seen, appear very much out of date. The prevailing style of writing is bold and free, the characters very upright, and tall toppling “l’s” and long-tailed “g’s” have quite disappeared from letters in general; a free use of capitals is also indulged in, which gives a dash of originality and spirit to a letter when not overdone. Many gentlemen and a few ladies affect a literary style of letter writing—that is to say, a margin ¾-1 in. wide is left on the near side of the sheet of paper, which gives rather an imposing look to it; but this is only done when the letter is almost a note in the matter of length. A strictly business habit, adopted for the convenience of being copied by letter-press, by no means a fashionable one, is to write on the first and third pages of a sheet of note paper, leaving the second and fourth pages blank, or to write on the first and fourth pages, leaving the other two; but some people fall into the mistake of doing this under the impression that it is rather fine, whereas it is very much the reverse. Some little care should be taken in paragraphing a letter to avoid incoherency. Thus, a fresh line and a capital should be allowed to each new subject. As much A few words as to the actual composition of a letter. It should always be borne in mind that if a letter has a purpose, a reason, or an object for being written, this fact should not be lost sight of, or overweighted with a mass of extraneous matter. Again, it is idle to devote the first page of a letter to trivial excuses for not having written sooner, when no particular reason existed why a still longer delay in writing might not have been allowed to elapse, if it suited the convenience of the writer. Of course, when a letter requires an immediate answer, it is then a matter of politeness to give the reason for the omission, but this should be explained without circumlocution, and other matters should at once be referred to. A want of punctuation in a letter will often cause a sentence or paragraph to be misunderstood, and made to convey the reverse of what was intended. Notes of interrogation should not be omitted from a letter when questions are asked, though many consider it a waste of time to make use of them. Notes of exclamation, when required, materially assist the clearer understanding of a passage, which, without them, might have a vague meaning. It is not the fashion in these days to accuse oneself of writing a stupid letter, a dull letter, or an uninteresting letter, one’s friends are only too likely to take one at one’s own valuation, and to endorse the written verdict; while the solecism of laying the blame of bad writing on pens, ink, and paper is confined to the servants’ hall, where writing materials are perhaps not always of the best quality, and seldom ready to hand. In answering a letter, it is a great proof of a poor imagination, besides being extremely tedious, when each paragraph of the letter under treatment is minutely paraphrased. Questions naturally demand answers, and important facts call for comment; but trivial remarks and observations, perhaps pleasantly put, were never expected to be returned to their author with poor platitudes attached to them. A postscript was formerly supposed to convey the pith or gist of a lady’s letter—a poor compliment, it must be confessed, to her intelligence; it is now considered a vulgarism to put P.S. at the bottom of a letter containing the few last words, if something is remembered when the letter is concluded that should have been said, it is added without apology. Answering Invitations.—The extremely rude habit of not answering notes as soon as they are received is generally done from idleness and a habit of shirking trouble, though, as the answer must ultimately be written, it is hard to see what exertion is saved by not writing it at the proper time. Of the inconvenience to the sender from not The art of making excuses is one which people much in society find it absolutely necessary to cultivate if they wish to retain any command over their own time, movements, and even property. Tact, or savoir vivre, is the key to this art, while frankness might certainly be termed the lock in which to place the key when making polite excuses. Frankness appeals both to the good sense and to the common sense of the one to whom it is addressed; it softens the refusal, of whatever character it may be; it gives the assurance that no slight is intended. There is one stereotyped excuse, a “previous engagement”; but between friends, and by those with whom frankness is practised, this explanation is carried a step further, and the nature of the previous engagement is mentioned, and the name of him or her with whom it is made. A downright refusal savours of ungraciousness and discourtesy; whereas a polite excuse is compassed by a little judicious temporising, which in a way breaks the force of a refusal. The difficulty of making polite excuses is sometimes increased when a verbal invitation is given to a husband and wife, and they are not able to consult as to whether they are unanimous in refusing it. The way of extrication is for the one to refer to the engagements of the other, and leave it in doubt for the moment. Various excuses are permissible in answer to all save invitations to dinner; this must be accepted, unless a bon fide engagement or illness can be pleaded in excuse. Polite excuses to unwelcome requests demand even more readiness of thought and speech, as refusals to such, if not guardedly conveyed, are likely to give offence, or to create an unpleasant feeling of annoyance. DancingDancing.—Preparing Floors.—(a) A good plan is to use a little beeswax in preparing the floor for dancing. Unless it be perfectly even, a carpenter must be called in to plane away any little roughnesses, or to fill up interstices between boards with little slips of wood. When quite smooth, some beeswax must be rubbed on to one of the weighted brooms sold on purpose, and it must in this way be thoroughly worked into the boards over every part of the room, adding a little more wax when needed, but remembering that the less wax and the more labour bestowed on the floor the better it will be. When the desired polish is attained, sprinkle the floor all over with finely powdered French chalk. Cover the waxed broom by tying a piece of strong baize over it, and with this go up and down the room over and over again, until the French chalk has been well rubbed over every part; this will make the floor just right for dancing, and prevent the (b) Powdered spermaceti answers well for polishing a floor, being clean and easily used; it should be sprinkled over, then rubbed, or, better still, is glided over by some one wearing thin shoes, each board being taken separately. (c) Wash the boards with milk, and when dry lay on French chalk thinly but evenly all over the floor; then let 2 men scrub it hard with brushes until all signs of the chalk disappear: ½ lb. chalk will do for a large room, as if put on too thick it will soil the ladies’ dresses. (d) The floor must first be planed as smooth as possible, all nail heads hammered down, well sand-papered with coarse and then fine paper, washed with new milk, and 6 hours after, dusted slightly with French chalk. A rough floor may be transformed in an hour by scraping up a common composite candle very finely, scattering it on the floor, rubbing it into the wood with your boots, and then dusting it with French chalk out of a flour dredger. White wax, and then French chalk, is best treatment for a well-stretched drugget, and the chalk will make an over-waxed parquet perfect. Scenting Rooms.—(a) When the roses fade, spread the leaves to dry, taking away those which are decayed or discoloured; then, in a jar, place alternate layers of rose leaves, lavender, scented marjoram, lemon plant, or any perfumed plant, sprinkling each layer with crushed bay salt, and pressing down very tightly. In the autumn, when there is nothing more to add, strain away any moisture, turn all out, and mix well; keep in a wide-mouthed jar with a lid, and during the winter sprinkle occasionally with eau de Cologne or other perfume; and, when wishing to scent the room, take off the lid. (b) 1 lb. bay salt, 2 oz. saltpetre, both in the finest powder, a handful of sweet bay leaves cut as small as possible; the same of myrtle leaves, rosemary, lavender leaves, and lemon thyme in flower, the rinds of 4 lemons cut as fine as possible, ½ oz. cinnamon, ½ oz. cloves, ½ oz. allspice, a large nutmeg in the finest powder, 1 oz. storax, 1 oz. bergamot, 1 oz. spirit of lavender, 1 oz. essence of lemon, 1 dr. musk, 6 oz. powdered orris root. Put all these ingredients into a jar with a lid that shuts very close, then add the following flowers as you gather them: 3 handfuls orange flowers, 3 of clove pinks, 2 of rosemary, 2 of lavender flowers, 2 of jessamine, 6 of rose leaves, and leaves of Aloysia citriodora. Stir it each time fresh flowers are added. Gather 4 rosebuds early in the morning, and put them at once into your jar. Do not leave any two leaves sticking together, and pick out every piece of green. Syringa flowers are a good substitute for orange flowers. If the pot-pourri becomes too moist, add orris root powder and spices; if too dry, add bay salt and saltpetre, only let every powder be as fine as possible, and well mixed. It cannot be too much stirred at first, and, if well made, will keep its perfume for many years. Old-Fashioned Dances.—The Triumph: The ladies and gentlemen stand in lines opposite to each other; the top gentleman dances down the centre with the second lady, pursued by her own partner; she dances back between the two, and the next couple begin, until all the dancers are engaged. Cottagers: 4 people stand for this as in the quadrille; they cross hands in the centre, and make the half-turn backwards and forwards; then the second couple hold up their hands, and the first couple pass Amateur Theatricals.—These form an excellent amusement for winter evenings, and may be made highly instructive to young members of the family, besides aiding in developing a degree of culture in manner and speech with proper guidance. A moderate amount of ingenuity, with some pasteboard, paper and paste, will suffice to extemporise a stage and scenery. A few hints on “making up” may be useful. Making up.—Given a clean shaven face, the features of which are not specially prominent, and it is comparatively easy for an artist in make up to transform it into a fair likeness of any type of character he wishes to represent, or even to imitate a particular individual. Of course the actor cannot remould his features, but by putting on different coloured paints he can present an effect which, viewed from a little distance, has all the appearance of having been remoulded. The great secret underlying all the triumphs of this art is that white brings into prominence and black depresses. For instance, take a nose that is reasonably straight. Suppose it is desired to make it a pug. Put a little dark brown on the bridge and make the end lighter than all the rest of the face. The gradations have to be nicely shaded, and there comes in the art. To reverse the process, and produce a marked aquiline, hook, or Jewish nose, put white on the bridge and darken down the tip a little. That will bring forth an aristocratic nose that would do credit to any duke in the British peerage. Grease paints can now be purchased. These are colours mixed with a hard grease, a little of which is rubbed on the face and then smoothly spread over with the finger. One of its most valuable properties is that it is not affected by perspiration, and requires grease or soap and water to remove it. Generally the actor rubs a little vaseline or cold cream over his face and wipes this off with a rag before washing, thus removing most of the paint and getting the soap to lather more easily. It does not seem to injure the skin when it is properly washed off at night, but persons who are careless may let it block up the pores of the skin or remain in the roots of the hair or eyebrows. The number of shades in which grease paint is now made is very great, and every actor who takes pride in his make up will have from a dozen to twenty kinds. Even in flesh tint alone there are six varieties, from the very delicate creamy white of youth to the leaden sallowness of extreme old age. Besides these there are shades for Chinamen, and for every gradation of Indian and negro blood. Then there are whites for “high lights” and for whitening mustaches or eyebrows, browns for shading, blues for veins and hollows, reds, blacks, and yellows. You must not think they are all used in one make up, though often seven or eight colours are combined in an elaborate one. The first thing to do in making up is to select the proper flesh tint. This having been chosen and applied, the next thing is generally the rouge. Except in the case of very old characters, some red must be put on the faces, or the yellow glare of the footlights will make them look perfectly ghastly. But where the red is to be put and how much of it and what shade to use, depend entirely upon the age of the person to be represented. The younger the person the more delicate the tint of rouge should be and the higher it should be upon the face. Thus, for a very young man, the rouge is put on in a half-moon shape, one horn beginning at the inner corner of the eye and the other extending well up the temple as high as the eyebrow. As the age increases we cease to run the colour up so high on the outer side, until for mature years it settles down into the hollow below the cheek bone. The rouge being properly applied, we next go to work upon the wrinkles or hollows. In representing age the principal lines to be emphasised are those from the nose to the corners of the mouth, from the corners of the mouth to the chin, from the inner corners Very few people are aware how important a part the eyebrows play in forming the expression of the face. Bringing them very close together will cause a look of meanness or villainy; a high arch will ensure surprise or vacancy of expression. A slight upward turn of the inner corner makes some faces very handsome. Eyebrows are often painted; but if very heavy ones are needed they are stuck on over the true ones. If the actor is going to wear his own eyebrows or mustache, he colours them to match his wig with grease paint, which, after being rubbed on, is combed so that each hair is coloured and there is no matted appearance. The use of mustaches and beards made on wire and hung from the ears has almost entirely gone out except among supers and utility people, as, being independent of the skin of the face, they did not move with it, and consequently never appeared natural. The best mustaches and beards are now made upon a thin foundation of silk, each hair being drawn through separately and knotted. The foundation is fastened to the face with spirit gum, another modern invention of great value to actors. It consists of gum dissolved in collodion and alcohol. This mixture dries immediately it is exposed to the air, is impervious to moisture, and can only be removed by spirits or grease. When the actor had to depend upon plain glue or gum, he was always in fear of losing his false beard, and many are the funny stories told of swallowing mustaches or transferring them to the faces of ladies who have had to be embraced in the course of the action of the piece. Many actors prefer to make their own beards or whiskers nightly, as they do not like the feeling of the solid foundation on the skin, and, indeed, an all-round beard is apt to restrict the easy working of the jaws. Whiskers or beards are made from wool or crape hair, both of which can be obtained of any desired shade of the theatrical wig makers. The hair or wool is drawn through a coarse comb to a little longer than the length desired. It is then cut close to the teeth on the under or more solid side. An even mass is thus obtained which is readily fixed to the gummed cheek. The real art is in the subsequent trimming, with very sharp scissors, to the shape desired. Wool is more easily handled, but hair which comes in short lengths, plaited, is the most realistic. It is this that detectives use for disguises, and when well put on it is almost impossible to detect its falsity, as each hair seems to grow out of the skin. Almost the last stage is the putting on of the wig. If this is not a bald one, the Be careful, too, to make up your hands, a thing which many a good actor forgets. Yet how absurd it is to see an old, wrinkled face accompanied by young, plump hands. For an old man, the knuckles should be whitened, the hollows between them darkened, and the veins marked with white blue. Actresses very seldom use grease paint, and, in fact, it is not necessary for them, as they rarely consent to line their faces. They generally use a liquid white, which has some mineral basis, and is in the end hurtful. The safest compound is a preparation of oxide of zinc, rose-water, and a few drops of glycerine. A little rouge, the darkening of the eyebrows, and a touch of red on the lips complete a lady’s make up. Most of them line below and above the eyelashes with black, which gives brilliancy to the eyes. They are very apt to overdo this, and then their eyes look like burnt holes in a blanket. Stage Illusions.—Many of the peculiar effects which are produced upon the stage, imitating moonlight, sunlight, thunder, wind, rain, and other natural phenomena, are a puzzle to those outside of the business. How such realistic representations of these things as are often witnessed upon the stage can be made is a question that often enters the mind of the spectator, and is seldom answered in a satisfactory manner. It is always the ambition of scene painters and stage carpenters to devise improved methods of imitating these things, and hence the stage may be said to try to hold the mirror up to nature in a material as well as a moral sense. Years of experience have tended to bring these imitations to a high state of excellence; but the limits do not yet seem to be reached, and new contrivances are continually appearing. The electric light is not yet used, but as its pale blueish tint would be serviceable in particular effects, stage machinists are now deliberating how it can best be employed. All of the operations mentioned, together with some which will be described, are classed under the general term, “stage effects.” Authors, in writing plays, are always on the look-out for an opportunity to produce a telling effect. The amount of work bestowed upon their production in a theatre is simply astonishing to those unacquainted with that mysterious realm known as “behind the scenes.” Thunder is a common stage effect, and is used with great advantage in many plays. In former days it was produced by shaking a large piece of sheet iron immediately above the prompter’s desk. This contrivance produced a good imitation of sharp, rattling thunder, but failed to give the dull roar which is always heard in storms. A contrivance for this purpose was soon invented. A heavy box frame is made, and over it is tightly drawn a calf skin. Upon this the prompter operates with a stick, one end of which is padded and covered with chamois skin. A flash of lightning, produced with magnesium, and a sharp crack of the sheet iron, followed by a long decreasing roll upon the “thunder drum,” produce an effect which is startlingly realistic. Travelling companies are compelled to be satisfied with the sheet iron alone; and the tragedian who enters a theatre provided with a complete thunder apparatus always is happy to think that his battle with the elements in “King Lear” will be worth fighting. The rain machine in large theatres is a fixture placed high up in the “flies.” A cylinder is made of “half-inch” wood. It is usually 5 ft. in circumference, and 4 ft. in length. Upon the inside are placed rows of small wooden teeth. A lot of dried peas is placed in the cylinder, a rope belt is run around one end of it and down to the prompter’s desk, and it is ready for a drenching shower. By turning the cylinder, the peas roll Wind is an item that is very useful in heightening the effect of stage storms. It is often dispensed with in theatres where strict attention is not paid to details, but not without a loss of “realism.” It has, moreover, a great influence over the feelings of spectators. The blind Louise in the “Two Orphans” is much more pitied when the audience can hear the pitiless blast that makes her shiver. Hence in every large theatre the wind machine plays an important part. It is not a stationary apparatus, but can be moved to any quarter of the compass from which it is desired that wind should blow. In the last act of “Ours,” every time the door of the hut opens snow flies in and a shriek of wind is heard. The wind machine in that instance is placed just outside the door, and the property man works it, while his assistant amuses himself by trying to throw his paper snow down Lord Shendryn’s back. The wind machine is constructed in this manner: A heavy frame is made, in which is set a cylinder provided with paddles and resembling very much the stern wheels seen on Ohio River towboats. Across the top of this cylinder is stretched as tightly as possible a piece of heavy gros-grain silk. This silk remains stationary while the wheel is turned by a crank. The rapid passage of the paddles across the surface of the silk produces the noise of wind. Often travelling companies are in theatres where there is no wind machine. Then the property man groans audibly and proceeds to do what, in theatrical parlance, is called “faking” the wind. He selects a heavy piece of gas hose, called by stage gasmen “flexible,” and, finding a quiet corner where there is sufficient space to swing a cat without danger—to the cat—he whirls it around his head with the greatest possible rapidity. This method produces very satisfactory results—to every one but the property man. He is a long-suffering person; but the extraction of wind from “flexible” causes him to find life tedious. Every one has heard the startling crash that is produced when the hero kicks the villain through a four-inch oaken door. One would think that not only the door but the villain must be completely shattered. This noise is produced by the crash machine, one of the oldest implements of imitation still used on the stage. It is similar to the wind machine in construction. A wheel with paddles set at an angle of about forty-five degrees to the radii is the main part of the machine. Upon the top of the wheel one end of a stout piece of wood is pressed down by fastening the other end to a portion of the framework. When the wheel is turned, the slats passing under the stationary piece produce a rattling crash. The principle of the machine is illustrated by the small boy who runs a stick along a paling fence and is gratified by introducing into the world an additional morsel of hubbub. There is nothing that can be so well counterfeited on the stage as moonlight scenery. And yet there is nothing which requires more work. The artist begins the task by painting a moonlight scene. In daylight such a scene is a ghastly sight. It is done in cold greys and greens, in which Prussian blue and burnt umber play an important part, and the lights are put in with white slightly tinged with emerald green. The strong moonlight of the foreground is produced by a calcium light thrown through a green glass. The fainter light upon the scenery at the back of the stage is obtained from “green mediums,” a row of Argand burners with green chimneys. These are placed upon the stage just in front of the main scene, and are “masked in” from the view of the audience One of the most beautiful effects produced upon the stage is the change from day to night or from night to day. Of these the former is the more striking, and a description of it will serve to explain the principle of both. In order to produce the proper effect the back drop is made nearly double the height of the usual scenes. The upper half of it is painted to represent a sunset sky, and the lower half to represent moonlight. It is hung so that the upper half alone is visible. The scenery of the distance is then painted upon a separate piece, which is “profiled”; that is, the irregular line of the horizon made by trees, mountains, or houses, is sharply cut out with a circular saw. This piece is placed immediately in front of the sky drop. A few feet further in front is hung what is known as a cut gauze drop. This has sides and top of canvas painted as the case requires; while the centre is filled with fine gauze, which lends an aerial effect to the distance. Red “mediums” are employed to give a soft, sunset glow to the scene. At the proper moment, the back drop is very slowly and steadily hauled up, while the red “mediums” are slowly turned off and green ones turned on. The moon is made in the night half of the sky drop, and rises with it. When it rises above the distant horizon the green “mediums” are turned on to their full power and the green calcium light is brought into play. The effect of this change, when carefully managed, is always very beautiful, and is sure to draw forth applause from the audience. Moonrise, in a scene where there is no change from daylight to darkness, is often produced with a muslin drop and a “moon box.” The muslin drop is painted to represent the sky, the clouds being painted on strips of canvas cut in the required shape and sewn on. The moon is made with a box on one side of which a circular hole is cut. Over this hole is pasted a piece of white muslin. A couple of wires serve to draw the moon upward. Of course the white illuminated circle shows plainly through the muslin sky, but disappears when passing behind the canvas clouds. By having another piece of muslin painted red and imperceptibly fading to white, placed at the back of the drop in the moon’s path, the orb of night can be made to appear red at the horizon and gradually change to pale yellow as it sails slowly upward. Floating clouds are easily imitated by hanging in front of the sky drop a gauze drop upon which are sewn muslin or canvas clouds, and moving the whole slowly. An ocean of heaving waters is made in this way: Each bounding wave is cut out separately. The first row is set up with a distance of three or four feet between each billow; and the second row is set so as to show in the openings left by the first. Small boys furnish the motive power. The waves are rocked back and forth, not from side to side; and the effect is very good. The noise of water rolling upon a beach is well imitated in a simple manner. A box of light wood is lined with tin. By putting two or three ounces of bird-shot into this and causing it to roll around, the desired sound is produced. Fire scenes are sometimes dangerous; but with proper care they may be rendered comparatively safe. That they are not so hazardous as is generally supposed by the uninitiated beholder may be learned from the following description:—One of the most familiar fire scenes is that which occurs in the “Streets of New York,” in which a three-story house burns down, the roof caving in, the shutters falling, and the walls breaking with a wonderful appearance of realism. The house is painted on three separate pieces, the top one of which is swung from the flies; this constitutes the roof. Upon the second is painted half the wall, and it is joined to the bottom piece in an irregular zigzag line. The simple dropping in succession of these pieces to the stage produces the falling of roof and wall. The fire itself is represented by chemical red fire and powdered lycopodium used separately, the former to give a red glow and the latter to represent flames. The shutters, which are to fall, are fastened to the scene with a preparation called “quick watch.” This is made of powder, alcohol, and a lamp wick. The window frames and sashes are made of sheet iron, covered with oakum soaked in alcohol or naphtha. These sashes and frames are not fastened to the canvas scene at all, but are placed a short distance behind it on platforms. The quickest possible touch of flame ignites the oakum, and, in a moment, the fire runs round the sash, and nothing apparently is left but the blackened and charred wood. Steam is used to represent the smoke that issues from the crannies in the walls of the burning building; and an occasional crash, followed by the ignition of a little powder to produce a sudden puff of smoke, gives the spectator the idea of a falling rafter. Behind the entire scene is placed a very large endless towel, upon which is painted a mass of flames. This is kept in constant upward motion, and, when viewed through an open window in the house, gives a good idea of the supposed furnace raging within. Selecting a Play.—The following excellent list of plays adapted for amateurs was published in the Queen some years since.
Most of the above are beyond the talent and stage resources of any but the strongest amateur companies.
First catch your actors, then choose your play. In other words, fit your available square men into a square piece, and do not try and pare them down to the exigencies of a round one. As a rule dramatic talent and ambition is more common among the emotional than among the sterner sex. Women, too, adapt themselves more easily to any part. Also, their range of parts is narrower. It is easier to make people laugh than to cry, and they also prefer being amused to being harrowed. Of course low comedy is just as difficult as a higher line, but a feeble imitation passes muster better than in the serious parts. Englishmen are less averse to playing the fool in a fool’s part than risking an exhibition of deeper feeling. It is easy, therefore, to group your lesser lights round the central low comedy man, reflecting his genial glow, more or less, according to their several abilities, and to graft upon the whole a farce. A farce need not be vulgar. A farce, too, like charity, covers a multitude of sins in the way of dress, properties, or scenery. Almost any incongruity of the former is allowable, and any makeshift or hitch in the latter can be carried off by a ready wit. But supposing comic talent to be altogether absent in your company, you will probably find the “old man” element predominating. The younger, better looking, and more stalwart the individual the more convinced he will be that his strong point is the impersonation of old men. Yet old men’s parts are difficult. The very make up in anything but the broadest farce is a work of art in itself, and the gait, the tone of voice, the laugh, the down sitting, and the up-rising must never be lost sight of for a moment. Usually, too, the old man character is an adjunct rather than the central figure in a piece, and does not bear upon his shoulders the burden and heat of the day. Yet in skilful hands it is capable of unlimited expansion, and with weaker vessels can, at worst, but sink to the level of low comedy. Of all the parts most difficult to fill that of the lover is the worst. Like good tenors, there are not enough stage lovers brought into the world. Englishmen are so shy, so afraid of making themselves ridiculous by exhibiting sentiment and emotion. They are not given to making love particularly prettily in real life, much less upon the boards. The result in amateur circles is generally a stick. All the same, the lover is an absolute necessity in most plays, and must be procured somehow or other. A judicious weighing of the strong points of each member of your company, and a nice balancing of their weak ones, must decide you finally in the choice of the piece to be acted. Take into consideration which characters have much to do together, and whether the weaker one can be pulled through by the stronger. The performance is sure to hang fire if a pair of feeble knees have the stage all to themselves for long, making each other and the audience nervous. On the other hand, if your company is much of a muchness, choose a “level” piece in which the parts are fairly equally divided. If the opposite is the case, give your best actors the strong parts, and subordinate the others to them. Make up your mind from the beginning that some one is sure to consider him or herself ill-suited and ill-used. Women are greater sinners in this respect than men—more vain, more jealous. But if a piece, however small, is to “go,” each one must subordinate his own importance and his own part to the general effect. The cleverer the actor the more he will make of the smallest part. Nevertheless, the fact remains that private theatricals are productive of more quarrelling and bad blood than any other known form of social amusement. For this reason a stage manager, pure and simple, is absolutely essential. His word must be law and his rule of iron. He must give an eye to the general effect; he must order the sitting down and the getting up, and the crossing, and especially see that there is plenty of the former. He must see that when several characters are on the stage together they group well, do not get behind each other, and balance on the stage. At full rehearsals he should see that, if it is not practicable to rehearse on the stage itself, they take place on a square as large as the stage, and with each piece of furniture and property in its right place; also that the correct exits and entries are adhered to. This prevents amateurs feeling strange when they come to a final dress rehearsal on the stage itself. Any special little scenes between two characters can be gone over and over again privately. Finally, having got your ingredients together, do not aim too high. The more plot, the more action in a piece, the easier it is to act. Beware of plays which read well, are full of smart dialogue—they require very finished acting. A “dressed” or costume piece, though more trouble to get up, is more attractive than one of modern time. But when feasible, evening dress refines a modern play very much. Powder must be carefully put on, or after much heat and action, the performer assumes merely a grizzled aspect. In a dressed piece do not neglect the smallest details, and take care the female and male characters are dressed in the same period. In an outdoor scene, avoid an open parasol or umbrella as you would poison. It shades the face unless very dexterously manipulated. Let ladies look well to their “chaussure,” and the length, and especially the hang of the short skirts. These ought to be round, nothing looks so bad as a dab behind, showing the lining from the front. “Making up” is a very delicate matter in a room where the audience is so near. It is generally overdone. Rouge is usually put on too low, it ought never to come below the cheek bone. Many people do not need to pencil their eyebrows at all, and a mere dab of black on the lower lid is better than a continuous line. When this latter is used, however, it is becoming to continue it a very little beyond the junction of the two lids towards the temples. For a bucolic part of either sex, a nice fat rosy cheek can be made by adding a little cotton wool judiciously rouged. Remember an “old man” does not want his eyes blacked at all. Now, to touch on a few faults of amateurs. Firstly, there is a tendency to play too much to the front of the stage. Do not be afraid of the stage; use it all. Do not come on and stand front face to the audience, addressing your remarks to them instead of to the character with whom you are conversing. Turn well away for your asides, or they sound ridiculous, and give the other a similar chance of making his. Remember, it is no crime to take a turn up the stage, with your back to the audience, and say a sentence, with your head well thrown back over your shoulder. A second most important point is not to run your sentences together. Divide them well, giving each its particular character and its full value. Pause between them. Each word tells, and is put there for a purpose. And here let me beseech the amateur prompter to have some mercy on his victims, and not to hound them on, if they stop a moment, as if their lives depended on their getting the words out. This brings me to a vital point, that of playing slowly enough. Amateurs can hardly do “business” of any kind—such, for instance, as writing a letter—too slowly. Do not be ashamed of over-acting; it is better than under-acting a part. Learn your cues with your part, and insist on getting them correctly. Amateurs cannot take too much trouble. One word as to elocution. Find out the pitch of your voice which carries best, and which is at the same time the most natural and the least exertion to you. You cannot fail then to be heard, always providing you remember not to drop your voice at the end of a sentence, and not to clip the final consonants of words. A few practical hints, to close, as to stage and scenery. Do not attempt to put a piece with much action and several characters on to a small stage. The result is simply ridiculous. The stage must be raised, but a foot or so is enough in any ordinary-sized drawing-room. If it is too high, the players’ heads appear too near the ceiling. If possible, keep the front row of audience at least five feet from the footlights. Take care these latter are not too strong, but have plenty of lamps fixed on the back of the front wings and over the curtain inside. For this reason wings, though more trouble to set up, are preferable to a box scene. They also obviate the necessity of practicable doors, which do not shut or open properly, and never look real. It looks better to cut off the corners of the stage at the back, or, at any rate, to make the side narrow towards the back. Any trouble devoted to details of furnishing and setting the stage is well repaid by the effect; but of course the size and quantity of furniture must be ruled by the size of the stage. In an evening room scene, take care the lamps or candles are in the centre of the stage. Outdoor scenes are very difficult to manage on a temporary stage. A back painted scene is necessary, and in a room painted scenes look so coarse. Any carpenter can run up a temporary stage in a drawing room, from a slight sketch, in a day, without doing any damage to the walls. The curtain ought to be rehearsed as much as the play, till it goes up and down or pulls aside without a hitch. (E. E. C.) Tricks and IllusionsTricks and Illusions.—Much amusement may be derived from the practice of conjuring tricks and illusions, and such entertainments are not without an educational value, as they excite curiosity and develop a desire in young minds to acquire knowledge, and induce an exercise of the reasoning faculties in endeavouring to learn how they are performed. Sleight of Hand.—The following notes on sleight of hand tricks are taken from a chapter in A Curious Company, by that entertaining writer, Max Adeler. “Before beginning to explain the modus operandi of the impromptu illusionist, let me just tabulate eight golden rules, which you must always bear in mind if you hope for anything like success. “1. Never look at your hands, unless to attract attention to one of them. “2. Cultivate the art of chattering freely, with as much original wit as you can invent, or plagiarise without fear of detection. “3. Never tell a lie that you cannot stick to, and illustrate if necessary. You can always ward off an explanation for a few instants whilst you remove the chances of discovery, and you will find as you get on that you can boldly do the most outrageously transparent things coram populo, without being found out or observed. “4. Your hands must always work together, never be easy with one hand and constrained with the other; unless you can by no other means distract the attention of some horribly sharp person from one hand, when an awkward movement of the other will often divert his undesired watchfulness. “5. Cultivate the art of scoring off rude people, who ask awkward questions. If any one thinks he has discovered ‘the way it’s done’ (but not the right way), let him think so, and swagger his astuteness, and his desire to slip through to New Zealand will be all the greater when you prove him wrong. SÆpe interereunt aliis meditantes necem. If you are really found out beyond recovery, don’t try to carry it off; throw yourself at once on the generosity of the discoverer or discoverers, and ask him or her not to expose you; remember you are only an amateur, and not getting your living. “6. Never go on an instant after you detect the least signs among the audience of ‘having had enough of it.’ “7. When doing anything quite harmless, make a great unostentatious parade of your innocence; your audience will be all the more ready to take you on trust when you are taking them in. “8. Never perform a trick in public which you have not amply rehearsed in private. “Your dress will of course, as a rule, be the ordinary evening dress, and unless you have a great reputation as a prestidigitateur, no alteration is required. However, a little pocket an inch deep, contrived in and hidden by the seam of the trousers just where the tips of the fingers fall when the hand is naturally lowered to the side is a great convenience for getting rid of small articles when palmed, or for producing them suddenly by the same means. Otherwise, the natural movement of getting at one’s handkerchief, &c., will answer the same purpose, if neatly and unostentatiously done. It is as well to turn up the coat-sleeves, for though they are never used in legerdemain, it is impossible to disabuse people of the notion that they are. “These maxims (which are, after all, the chief art to be acquired by the amateur conjuror) having been digested, let us turn to the considerations of the principles and practice of the science of legerdemain. These may be summed up thus: Every conjuring trick or illusion, not involving the use of a stage, apparatus, and accomplices, is performed in, and has for its foundation one of three proceedings; these are, (1) The Palm, (2) The Pass, (3) The Slip, and the motive power of the trio is the same, and is expressed in one word, viz. ‘cheek.’ “1. Palming, is the art of holding in one hand any article (coin, card, &c.) unknown and unseen by the spectators, or of retaining in one hand anything which, by the ‘pass’ has apparently left it. “2. Passing, is the art of so palming any article that it is apparently transferred to some other receptacle, or altering the position of the cards in a pack unseen by the audience. “3. Slipping, is the art of moving, altering the position of, or getting possession of any single card without being detected, and, “4. Cheek is— “Coin Sleights.—Palming.—1. Place a penny or florin across the middle joints of the second and third fingers of either hand, as at a, Fig. 99, reproduced from illustrations by Miss Dora Noyes; on slightly bending the hand in an easy and natural manner, the coin will be clipped, as at b, by the fleshy part of the other two joints, and the hand may be turned over, and in fact placed in any position, so long as the back 99. Coin and Card Sleights. “2. Place the coin between the joint of the thumb and the hand, and on slightly bending the thumb the coin will be held flat. This is most useful for changing, described further on, but as an ordinary concealment of a coin it is too dangerous except for small coins which the thumb is large enough to hide. “3. The principal palm (from which the manipulation derives its name) is as follows: Place the coin so that one edge just touches the highest of the three marked lines that cross the palm of the hand, rather towards the thumb. On slightly bending the hand the coin will be retained; you will find it difficult at first, but practice will show you the exact spot, where the difficulty is reduced to a minimum. If you take the coin flatwise between the thumb, the tips of the second and third fingers, by naturally closing the fingers over and clasping them tight in the palm of the hand, the coin will be brought into the exact position, so that if you pick up a coin, by a sudden outward sweep you can cover this movement, and on recovering the hand the coin will be palmed and the hand apparently empty. “Other means of holding a coin en cache will naturally present themselves when these have been thoroughly mastered. “Passing.—1. Take the coin edgeways, between the thumb and the tips of the second and third fingers of the right hand, having the palm of the hand upwards, therefore the backs of the fingers presented to the audience, as at c. Approach the left hand to the right, with back of the hand upwards, and as soon as the left hand hides the tips of the fingers of the right hand, loosen the thumb so as to drop the coin on to the second and third fingers, as at d. Immediately close the left hand as if taking the coin out of the right hand and raise it up; meanwhile bend the fingers of the right hand so as to effect palm No. 1, and lower it steadily to the side or holding the coin as in palm No. 1, and hidden by the bend of the little finger raise the right hand to the mouth and cough slightly before lowering it, this shows the audience (apparently) that the right hand is empty. Meanwhile you play about with the left hand, in which the audience thinks is the coin, and when you have diverted their attention and disposed of the coin you can imitate the motion with the left hand of throwing the (imaginary) coin into the air or rubbing it away to nothing, or any other fanciful way of (apparently) disposing of it, or if you have safely got rid of the coin, suddenly rub your hands together and gradually display the two hands both empty. This is one of the most effective and easy passes. “2. Lay the coin on the left hand, approach the right to it, take the coin between the fingers and thumb of the right, carry the right hand smartly back, performing palm No. 3. Holding the left hand open jerk the right hand close to it, really holding the penny in the right palm, but apparently throwing it into the left; as you do it shut the fingers of the left hand smartly over the palm so as to produce a slap which people think is the slap of the coin falling into the hand, hold up the left hand so that people look at it, and lower the right with the coin palmed (No. 3); if any one is suspicious shift the coin to palm No. 1, and apparently show the hand empty in some artful manner. Then do what you like with the imaginary coin in the left hand. “3. To pass several coins, let them all be (if possible) of the same size and hold them tight in the palm of the right hand, then perform pass No. 2, in exactly the same manner as with a single coin, except that instead of holding them in the palm they fall with a clink into the bend of the fingers where they must at once be secured by the thumb beyond fear of further rattle. The chink thus produced, the audience thinks is produced by the coins falling into the other hand, which being immediately closed apparently holds the coins. It is a ticklish trick to perform well, owing to the necessarily constrained position of the right hand, but when got well into control is very effective indeed. “There are many other palms and passes, but with these all sleight-of-hand tricks may be done, and out of them the amateur can invent a quantity of simple little impromptu experiments. “Card Sleights.—These are far more extensive than coin tricks, for the cards in themselves are in a way apparatus, the active principles of which are, as with coin, the palm, the pass, and cheek, to which are added last, but not least, the slip and the turnover. “Palming.—This is done as follows: Hold the pack as at d, Fig. 99, in the left hand, and covering the pack lengthways with the right, so that the top joint of the fingers touches the top edge of the top card, slide the top card forward, and press down the tips of the fingers; the card will be thus pressed into the hand and lie curled up in it as in e, if thin small cards are used, a card (or even two or three) thus held will be completely hidden by the hand, and may be curled up tight without injury to the card. In this sleight, it is difficult to avoid a constrained position of the hand, but it is very useful as hereinafter described for changing cards. “Passing.—This is the great stumbling-block of the amateur miracle-monger, and will require most practice, for when you begin it will seem impossible to do it en cache. Its object is to reverse the two halves of the pack (in fact, a sort of automatic cut; in fact the French term is ‘sauter la coupe,’ for by its means the demoralising effect of a cut may be avoided), and when properly practised and perfected it is done noiselessly, in a manner incomprehensible to the conjuror himself. Often, practising the pass before a looking-glass, I have wondered myself at my own performance, so completely does the automatic and sympathetic movement of the hands deceive the eye. The pack being divided into two halves, it is held in the left hand as at f, i.e. as seen from the front there is no division, but really whilst three fingers clasp it, it is divided (above or below any given card, or, as the case may be) by the little finger. Now cover the pack lengthways with the right hand, slip the first finger in also as at g, so that the upper half of the pack is held as it were in a hinge formed by the fingers of the left hand. Now seize the lower half between the thumb and fingers and the right hand, and press it sideways into the lower joint of the thumb as at h. Now by means of the fingers of the left hand raise the upper half hinge-wise, and with the fingers and thumb of the right, lift the lower half till it is just clear of the top half as at i, when on pressing down the thumb the lower half will be pressed over the top half as at j. The fingers may then be removed, and your purpose is accomplished; i.e. the top and bottom halves of the pack have changed places. As you acquire practice it will only be necessary to insert the little finger of the left hand, instead of two. It is well to lower the hands sharply as you perform this sleight, to cover the movement, which, however, by practice is reduced to a minimum. It is also well, if you feel that some one is suspicious, to ruffle the cards immediately afterwards to divert suspicion. This sleight requires much private rehearsal, but is the mainspring of a great many tricks, and its practice gives the hands a suppleness and sympathy not to be acquired in any other way. “The turnover is a sleight, practised when it is desired to present the backs of the cards whichever way the pack is presented. It is performed as follows: Beginning exactly as with the pass, except that when i is reached instead of pressing the lower half over the top, the movement is continued to k, so that the two halves of the pack face one another, and now whether the top or bottom half be uppermost, the backs of the cards will be visible. You can now deal off cards from either half, and when you want to cease, and begin from the other, hold the cards as in d, but the thumb instead of being over the pack it is underneath as at l, so that the attention of the audience being diverted (by counting the cards already dealt, or otherwise) by an upward pressure of the thumb the pack is completely reversed, and the heretofore undermost card is now at the top. This is the principle of most tricks involving counting off cards. “Slips.—These are the most useful and frequently required sleights practised by the amateur conjuror, and consist of the knack of drawing a card from the top, middle, or bottom of the pack, and placing it in any position in the pack which may be required by the trick. “1. The pack being held in the ordinary manner in the left hand, with a chosen card on the top (either placed there by the chooser, or by the pass, or one of the subjoined slips), lift off the top half, raising it rather hingewise, so that the top card being retained by the fingers of the left hand it is left on the top of the half retained in the left hand, as in m. “2. The chosen card being on the top of the pack, being held as at d, and covered lengthwise by the right hand, by a sudden contraction of the fingers of the left hand, the top card is drawn off (under the right hand) as at n, with a ‘flip,’ caused by the bending of the card as it bends and straightens out at the bottom of the pack. The cards are immediately ‘ruffled’ to disguise the flip. In the same manner a card may be sprung from the bottom to the top, or from the top to the centre, in the latter case the pack being opened a little in the left hand, and the top half slightly raised by the thumb and fingers of the right hand. The elasticity of the card will cause it to spring, in the instant it finds an opening. “3. A card having been chosen, the pack is presented, just raising the top half to make a place for it, but not looking at the place, or indeed at the hands at all. The card being inserted, before replacing the top half the two middle fingers are inserted just over it, and directly the two halves join, the card is flipped out by the two fingers as in n, and brought to the bottom. The cards are immediately ‘ruffled,’ and your point is gained, i.e. you know the exact card chosen. If the chooser demurs to re-inserting the card at the opening you make— “4. Spread out the pack fanwise before him, spreading them to your right, and letting the fingers of your two hands meet underneath the fan. By this means wherever he pushes in his card, you can feel it, and in collapsing the fan into pack form, the fingers are slipped in over the top as in slip No. 3, and the card is flipped out as there set down. “These demonstrate the active principles of slips, which your own ingenuity will multiply ad infinitum. It will be seen that by their means any card chosen and returned to the pack may be at once secured and ascertained, which is the prime object of the card trickster, in whatsoever experiment he may be engaged. Simply a ‘slip,’ combined with any of the following ‘exposures,’ will constitute a trick in itself, far above the comprehension of any one not himself a master of the art. “Exposures.—These are the methods of ‘exposing’ a card chosen, and returned to the pack. Your own fancy will suggest any quantity of methods, but the following are a few for a start. In fact, almost all card-tricks consist of one sleight, and a more or less complicated exposure. “1. Slip the chosen card to the top. Let the pack be held by any one (say the chooser of the card) with the face upwards, i.e. so that his card is at the bottom. See that the pack is held well into the hand of the holder, secured by the thumb set rather near the edge of the pack. Now, with your own hand, or let any one else, strike the pack smartly downwards, and all the cards will be knocked out of his hand except the bottom one (his own) which remains staring him in the face, retained by adhesion to his own fingers. Result, natural, but extraordinary. “2. Slip the chosen card to the top. Take the pack in the right hand, and cover it with the left, as you do so sliding the top (chosen) card sideways till it projects nearly half over the side of the pack. This state of things will be hidden by the left hand, holding the pack endways. On dropping the pack bodily from the left hand at an elevation of about 1½ feet from floor or table, the top (chosen) card will turn as it falls, and lie face upwards on the top of the pack. Result, simple, but startling. “3. Slip the chosen card to the top. Give the chooser a paper knife, and, holding the pack as at d, tell him to cut the pack with it where he likes. Where he cuts, divide the pack, and lift off the top half, doing at the same time slip No. 1, which will bring his card to the top of the lower half. Put down the top half, and observing that you in no way influenced his cut, tell him to take the (now) top card. He will be surprised to find it his own. Result, easy but supernatural. “Space forbids me to suggest any others, which you can easily work out for yourself. If time and space would allow, it would be easy to fill a volume with card tricks requiring no preparation, apparatus, or accomplices; but as they are all based upon the above sleights, mere repetition would be useless. “The following selection are very telling and are easily performed. “1. To tell any card by looking at its back. This is founded on a manipulation, which I have not described above, and which is called the ‘drawback.’ The pack is held in the left hand as at p, with the faces downwards. Look at the bottom card, and as you turn the pack down draw down the bottom card with the little finger as at q. Asking some one to tell you when to stop, commence drawing back the cards on the top as at o. When told to stop, name the bottom card (looked at and drawn back) and drawing out all the intermediate cards, inform the teller that that is the card he stopped at, and in effect on turning up the remaining cards, the card drawn back and named will be at the bottom, and apparently the one at which he stopped. I have done this trick twenty times running without being detected. “2. Let any one choose a card and get it to the bottom of the pack by slips Nos. 3 or 4. Put down the cards haphazard in three packs, noting at the bottom of which the chosen card is. Ask the chooser in which pack he would imagine his card to be; if he chooses the right one (which is lucky) throw away the other two; if not, place the one he chooses on the right one and throw away the other wrong one. Redivide the cards left into three packs and proceed as before, always retaining the pack at the bottom of which his card is, until only three cards are left, including the right one. If he now chooses the right one it is exceptional luck, though it often so happens: if not, appear to hesitate a moment, and then retaining his own and the one he chooses, throw away the third, and mixing the two left but remembering his own yourself, throw them down, and the chances are even he will choose his own card. If he doesn’t, boldly throw down the one he chooses and turn up the other, which is his own. Casually observe that you in no way influenced his choice, and leave him astonished. “3. Pass or slip the chosen card to the top and make a great show of a false shuffle, i.e. shuffle all the cards, but retain or manipulate the top card so that it is shuffled to the bottom and thence back to the top. Then have the cards cut, and taking them up yourself, slip out the card by slip Nos. 3 or 4, and re-slip it to the top, or avoid the entire cut by means of the pass. Having convinced him that his card is lost in gurgite vasto of the pack, let him count off 8 cards from the top and spread them in any order in a row, face downwards, but keep your eye on and note the position of the first or top card, which is his own. Put away the rest of the pack, and tell him to touch four out of the eight. If he touches his own amongst them, take up and throw away the four untouched, or if he does not touch his own, take up those he touches. Then let him touch two of the four left, and throw away as before, leaving his own one of the two left. Then let him touch one of the two left, and as before leave his own solus. Turn it up, and his astonishment will be unbounded. Your victim will often enable you always to throw away the ones touched, and of course this improves the trick, otherwise it is twenty to one against his noticing that you do not always throw away the same set. If he does, you must trust to providence and let the best liar win. “4. Choose out the four kings (or any other four similar cards) and divide the pack into two halves, place the cards, a black on the top and a red on the bottom of one half, and a red on the top and a black on the bottom of the other half, so that when the halves are “5. To change a card without the help of the pack proceed thus: Slip the chosen card to the top, and make a false shuffle. Then take off, apparently only the top one, but really the top two, and hold them up by the edges, so that the top (right) one is completely hidden by the second (wrong) one. Putting the pack quite away behind at some distance from you, bring forward your (double) card in the left hand and show it to the chooser, asking if it is his own. As he will say no, appear confused and let him be quite positive and assertive that it is not his own. Take the (double) card lengthwise and face downwards in the right hand, walk back towards the pack, as you do so draw off the (right) card, leaving the wrong one palmed in the right hand as at d. Bring it forward again in the right hand (which in holding, the right will conceal the wrong card), as if to make quite sure, when the chooser will find it to be changed into his own card. “6. This trick is somewhat similar to the last. Take out the four kings, and spread them out fanwise, but let the second have concealed behind it as in the last trick, two other court cards (court cards are best as being not so noticeable in case of accident). Hold them up, saying, ‘You see I have here the four kings,’ close them up smartly and lay them face downwards on the top of the pack, so that the order is now, 1 king, 2 false ditto, 3 false ditto, 4, 5 and 6 kings. Take off the first (which is real) and apparently unintentionally show its face and place it at the bottom of the pack. Take off the next (false one) without showing it, and place it into the pack near the bottom. Place the next (false one) similarly into the pack near the top. Take off the fourth (real) and apparently unintentionally exposing its face, commence to put it into the middle; when half way, however, change your mind and place it on the top of the pack. Say, ‘Well, these kings are all well separated now, to mix them still further will you kindly cut the pack;’ this operation will of course join all four again in the middle. ‘Ruffle’ the pack and spreading it out fanwise expose them en masse in the centre. If neatly done this is an excellent illusion.” Physical Experiments.—There are many illustrations of physical laws which admit of exhibition without the aid of any special apparatus, and which may be made highly instructive. Most of the following examples are borrowed from Max Adeler’s Curious Company. 100. Equilibrium Trick. (a) Equilibrium.—Stick 2 forks into a cork, and place the cork on the brim of the neck of a bottle (Fig. 100). The forks and the cork form a whole, of which the centre of gravity is fixed over the point of support. You can tip the bottle, empty it even, if it contains fluid, without the little construction over its mouth being in the least disturbed from its balance. The vertical line of the centre of gravity passes through the point of support, and the forks oscillate with the cork, which serves as their support, thus forming a movable structure, but much more stable than one is inclined to suppose. This curious experiment is often performed by conjurors, who inform their audience that they will undertake to empty the bottle without disturbing the cork. (b) If a woodcock Pressure of Air.—(k) The force of air can be shown as acting with considerable pressure upon an egg in a glass. By blowing in a claret glass containing a hard-boiled egg, it is possible to cause the egg to jump out of the glass; and with practice and strength of lungs it is not impossible to make it pass from one glass to another. (l) The force of heated air ascending can also be ascertained by cutting up a card into a spiral, and holding it above the flame of a lamp. The spiral, if lightly poised, will turn round rapidly. (m) A wine glass, a plate, and water will serve for the next experiment. Pour some water on the plate, light a piece of paper resting on a cork, and cover the flame with the glass, which turn upside down. The water rises in the glass. Why?—Because the burning of the paper having absorbed a part of the oxygen, and the volume of confined gas being diminished, the pressure of the outer air has driven back the fluid. Next fill a goblet with water up to the brim, and cover it with a sheet of paper, which touches both the edge of the glass and the surface of the water. Turn the glass upside down, and the sheet of paper prevents the water running out, because it is held in place by atmospheric pressure. It sometimes happens that this experiment does not succeed till after a few attempts on the part of the operator; thus it is prudent to turn the glass over a basin, so that, in case of failure, the water is not spilt. (n) Having obtained a vase and a bottle, both quite full of water, take the bottle, holding it round the neck so that the thumb can be used as a stopper, then turn it upside down, and pass the neck into the water in the vase. Remove your thumb, or stopper, keeping the bottle in a vertical position, and you will see that the water it contains does not escape, but remains in suspension. It is atmospheric pressure which produces this phenomenon. If, instead of water, we put milk in the bottle, or some other fluid denser than water, we shall see that the milk also remains suspended in the bottle. (o) Light a piece of paper, and let it burn, plunging it into a water-bottle full of air. When the paper has been burning a few seconds close the opening of the water-bottle by means of a hard-boiled egg, which you have previously divested of its shell, so that it forms a hermetic stopper. The burning of the paper has now caused a vacuum of air in the bottle, and the egg is gradually thrust in by the atmospheric pressure outside. (p) Take a thin piece of wood about ? in. thick, 8 in. wide, and 24 in. long, and lay it upon a table so that it shall project over the edge. It is evident that the least pressure will make it tilt and fall. Next spread out a large newspaper over the end that lies upon the table. Now if you strike a sharp blow with your fist on the projecting portion, you will be much surprised to see that the board resists the shock, just as if it were nailed to the table. If you strike hard you may injure your hand, or perhaps the board will break into pieces, but you will not lift the simple paper that holds it. The downward pressure of the atmosphere upon a wide surface explains the phenomenon. In order that the experiment may succeed well, the paper should be spread flat and evenly upon the table, and all the folds should be smoothed out so as to expel the interposed air. Equilibrium of Floating Bodies.—(q) The equilibrium of bodies floating upon liquids is an occurrence of daily observation, but such is not the case as regards aeriform fluids—a soap bubble filled with air and floating upon a stratum of carbonic acid, for example. Although this pretty experiment would seem to require complicated apparatus to carry it out, it may nevertheless be performed very simply, as follows:—Having procured a glass vessel, such as a bell-glass, of medium size, place it, mouth upward, upon a tripod made of coarse wire, or upon any other support. In the bottom of this vessel place a mixture formed of equal parts soda bicarbonate and tartaric acid reduced to powder. The quantity of powder to be employed depends upon the size of the vessel and the thickness of the stratum of carbonic acid that it is desired to have. Soda bicarbonate contains carbonic acid to the amount of half its weight, and consequently it is necessary to decompose 4 grammes (66 gr.) of bicarbonate to produce 1 litre (61 cub. in.) Care should be taken to prepare beforehand a solution of soap in water, or, what is better, some of Plateau’s glyceric liquid. With either of these liquids, bubbles about 4 in. in diameter are blown at the extremity of a tube that flares slightly. This tube should be held vertically while carrying the bubble over the cardboard cover, and the latter should be carefully removed by sliding it off horizontally, and the bubble be then detached in such a way that it shall fall in the direction of the vessel’s axis. If the fall occurs from a certain height, the ball will rebound as if it were repelled by a spring. It will then descend and rise again, and finally become immovable. It is at this moment that it is well to replace the cover, so that no disturbance shall occur in the interior of the vessel. The bubble then resembles a small balloon in equilibrium in the atmosphere of the vessel; but, in reality, it is floating upon the invisible stratum of carbonic acid. This equilibrium, however, is of short duration, since the carbonic acid rapidly dissolves in the liquid envelope of the bubble, and passes into the interior of the latter, and increases its weight to such a degree as to cause it to gradually descend to the bottom of the vessel, where it disappears. But a suspension of several balls may be obtained successively, that is to say, the experiment may be repeated several times, if, on removing the cover, care be taken not to disturb the atmosphere of the vessel. The soap bubble may be replaced by one of those small rubber balloons that please children so much, and that weigh, on an average, 1 gramme each. Upon inflating one of these to a diameter of about 6 in., we shall obtain an equilibrium that has greater fixedness and duration, and may observe the phenomenon at our leisure. Chemical Experiments.—It is well known that the vapours of mercury are very diffusive in their nature, and some quite singular experiments have been devised based upon this, and upon the fact that the salts of silver and the chlorides of gold, platinum, iridium, and palladium are affected by these mercurial vapours. If any one, for instance, write upon a sheet of white paper with platinum chloride, no mark would be visible, as the liquid is quite colourless. If, however, the same sheet of paper be held over a little mercury, the metal will be brought out on the paper in dark tints. This magical apparition of a figure or drawing on a sheet of paper which appears to be perfectly white is very astonishing to the spectator. On the other hand, reversing the experiment, a no less marvellous result is obtained. At first expose the drawing in writing to the gases of mercury; the lines will become charged with mercury, and then by simply bringing the drawing in contact with a sheet of paper previously sensitised with a solution of platinum, the drawing will be reproduced, line for line, on the white paper. Drawings made in this way give a charming effect, the tones being very soft and the lines being distinct and clear. Optical Delusions.—Those talking decapitated persons that are so often seen in various kinds of shows are one of the sights that always prove successful. They have already astonished a number of generations past, and will probably prove just as attractive to those that shall succeed our own. These decapitated persons are seen under different aspects according to the tricks employed to produce the illusion, and which all have the same aim in view, that is, to cause the appearance, on a table or tray, of a living head with no visible body. This illusion may be produced in several ways. (a) At the Foire aux Pains d’Epices of 1880, one of the side shows exhibited The trick by which the illusion was obtained consisted in this: The body belonging to the apparently decapitated head was hidden behind, under the tray, and was completely invisible owing to the shadow of the latter, and the partial darkness of the stage. The apparent body was that of another person of exactly the same height, size, and dress, whose head was in the dark and further hidden by black cloth. (b) Recently there was exhibited at Paris, in what is called the “ThÉÂtre des Merveilles,” another example of a decapitated person. A young girl first appears before the audience, accompanied by an executioner clad in red and armed with the traditional axe. Then the curtain drops, but rises in a few moments, and shows the stage a little darkened. Near the executioner, however, can be perfectly distinguished the girl’s head lying on a round table at the back of the stage; her body is seen lying on a bed at a few feet from her head, and at her side is the fatal block that has served for the execution. The effect is dramatic. The trick employed is the same as the preceding, in that it requires two persons of the same size wearing the same costume. One of these—the one who showed herself to the public—makes the head, her body being hidden behind the cloth in the rear of the stage. The other, who makes the body, has her head bent far back and hidden in a sort of box, a false cardboard neck contributing to increase the illusion. (c) Upon entering the room we perceive a black wooden square table having 4 legs. Over one of its angles there is thrown a piece of red fabric whose other end may be perfectly seen hanging from the opposite side. The floor, which is strewn with straw, is continuous to the back of the stage. There is nothing under the table, then—there can be no doubt of it. Still, upon this table there lies on a tray the head of a young girl which smiles and answers questions that are asked it. The ingenuous spectators are almost persuaded that the girl has no body; others ask themselves where it is hidden; and very peculiar suppositions are indulged in on all sides. In a word, the illusion is perfect. When, through favour or money, we enter the side scene and look at the table sideways, we are almost ashamed of having allowed ourselves to be deceived by so simple a trick; for the apparatus consists, in fact, only of a mirror fixed obliquely to two legs of the table. This mirror hides the body of the girl, who is on her knees or seated on a small stool, and reflects the straw which covers the floor so as to make it appear continuous under the table, and likewise reflects the front leg of the table so as to make it appear at an equal distance from the other side and thus produce the illusion of a fourth leg. It also reflects the end of the red fabric hanging in front of the table, and thus makes it appear to hang down also from behind. It should be remarked that during the exhibition the spectator stands only a few inches away from the table and head, being separated therefrom by a wooden railing from which hangs a curtain reaching to the ground. Such proximity of the spectator and actor would seem to favour a discovery of the trick; but, on the contrary, it is indispensable to its success. Were the spectator placed at a distance, and did the curtain not exist, he might by stooping see his legs reflected in the mirror. The curtain, then, prevents any one from looking under the railing, and the rays that might reach him from the curtain, by being reflected in the glass, are lost beneath the table, owing to the proximity of the latter. As may be seen, the trick is easily understood, and, moreover, it is one of those that gives the best results, since it deceives the public the best. Besides, it has the merit of great age. (d) The living half-woman is a very ingenious improvement on the decapitated individual. On entering, we perceive, when the curtain is drawn aside, an elegant little room decorated with flowers and lights and hung with curtains and tapestry. In front there are two railings, and the floor is covered with a carpet. In the centre is seen a small square table, on which rests a sort of three-legged stool supporting a cushion and the half body. The latter is the body of a young woman apparently cut in two just beneath the thighs. Naturally, this young person shows that she is alive by moving her arms and head, and speaking and singing. Now, as we can see the 4 legs of the table and can perfectly distinguish the space under the stool, and that too in full light, we naturally ask by what means the lower part of the girl’s body is hidden. On raising the stool, it will be seen that it is formed only of a hollowed-out disc whose supports are connected by two mirrors, that make with each other an angle of 45°. These mirrors rest on the top of the table, which is decorated with regular designs in mosaic, and reflect the latter in such a way that they seem to continue uninterruptedly under the stool. The table presents an analogous arrangement, two legs being connected with the foremost one by two mirrors (the table is placed cornerwise to the audience). These mirrors reflect not only the designs of the carpet, which by their continuity produce the illusion of a vacancy, but also 2 table legs located on each side behind the railings. The mirror to the left transmits to the spectators on that side the image of the leg placed on the left, and this image seems to them to be the fourth leg of the table. The mirror to the right plays the same rÔle with regard to the spectators on that side. These mirrors, in addition, hide the lower portion of the girl’s body. (e) The Dircksian phantasmagoria, which was more generally known as “Pepper’s Ghost,” is another example of the illusive effects of mirrors suitably arranged. On a moderate scale the same spectral apparitions can be produced as an entertainment for the drawing-room. Dircks arranged an oblong chamber in two equal portions, making the separation by means of one vertical screen of thin glass having a perfectly true surface. Suppose each chamber to measure 12 ft. square and 12 ft. high. Let one of these be the stage on which the acting is to take place; its floor and three of its walls are solid, and the fourth or front of it is one entire glass screen; the ceiling must be made to open at different parts to let in light, and have suitable blinds to regulate the light and shade in which the actors perform. The chamber opposite, or facing the actors, is in reality a second stage for carrying out the spectral performances, and is differently constructed; the two sides may be large folding or sliding doors, or may be left quite open, or one side closed and the other open; but the ceiling must cover only that half of the top away from the glass screen or partition, thus leaving an open space in the ceiling of 6 ft. by 12 ft.; through this space so left in the ceiling the spectators obtain a full view of the stage, their seats being above the half ceiling described, and thrown rather backwards than forwards; the line of vision thus being at an angle of about 45° with respect to the vertical glass screen, or plane unsilvered crystal mirror. It will now be obvious that the actor on the stage beneath the seats of the spectators can only be seen by reflection, and the trained actor on the opposite stage, knowing the precise situations of the reflection as seen by the spectators, performs accordingly, so that, when really seeming to stand confronting the vision, the actor, whose reflection is thus seen as a vision, is as far from the screen on one side as his reflection is cast on the other. Some striking effects may be produced illustrative of the illusive properties of optical apparatus constructed on the principle described. Thus, a figure placed before a white screen is so strongly reflected, that the spectator cannot divest his mind of their being the substance and not the shadow which he observes, particularly as he 101. 102. The Dircksian Phantasmagoria. The arrangement of the apparatus will be understood by reference to Figs. 101-104, in which— Fig. 101 is an external perspective view, Fig. 102 a vertical section, Fig. 103 a top, or bird’s-eye view, and Fig. 104 a plan. A, B, C, D, E is a box, closed on all sides, but provided at D with a door F, and on the other side with another door G, both hinged to the back A, D. H, I, J are flapped openings on the top of the box; K, K a partition dividing the interior of the box, made of a good, clear, and even surface of thin patent plate-glass, kept in its place within two side grooves; L, M, two separate chambers or compartments produced by K, K, the transparent mirror; N, a ceiling or If two figures be now introduced, one Y, the other Z, and the eye of the spectator be fixed at A, he will observe two images, one the real figure Z, the other Y’, the mere reflection of Y. By this arrangement it is evident that the plain, unsilvered glass, thus viewed at an angle of about 45° has all the properties of a mirror, but owing to its transparency two figures are seen, possessing little or no distinguishable difference between them. Of course a person placed at Z sees only the figure Y, but, as a piece of acting may, under proper arrangements of a suitable stage, approach the situation apparently occupied by Y’, and thus indicate to a spectator placed at A any pre-arranged dramatic scene requiring Z to be in correspondence with the visionary figure Y’. In using the apparatus the flap H must be open, but I may be shut, being mostly useful to get admission for inserting or withdrawing the screen or the figures; the flap J may be closed or opened to regulate the admission or exclusion of light. The doors F, G may both be wide open, though one is generally sufficient, provided it is turned as direct as possible to the light. A mirror placed at an angle close to the opening F or G, will assist the illusion by illuminating the figure Y, thus heightening the effect of the reflection Y’. If two geometrically proportionate figures, as spheres, cubes, or the like, be placed in the situations Y, Y’, then the image at Y’ will be a vision and a substance combined, as will at once appear by slightly moving the substantial body in either compartment L or M. Let the duplicate figure be a box, and then the spectator might observe the apparent anomaly of the same box being opened and a substance taken from it and replaced either by a substantial or visionary actor. When the compartment M is lighted up no vision appears, but the light being made gradually to fade and disappear, the vision would seem lifelike, as at first. As it is evident that the right hand of the vision is the left hand of the actor in the compartment L, all his acts requiring the right would have to be performed with the left hand, to appear natural to the spectator. It is also requisite for insuring a good effect, that no solid figure in the compartment M shall come before or behind the visionary image, as its transparency would at once become evident; but if anything of the kind is desired, then the background, figure, or object, should be placed behind the actor Y, and become with him also visionary; in this way a white screen placed behind the actor Y will allow his shadow to appear on it and give great force and solidity to his reflected figure or vision at Y’. A few examples will better illustrate than any elaborate description, the singular effects that may, in different ways, be adopted for realising spectral dramas. 1.—Dickens’s Haunted Man.A student is seen sitting at a table spread over with books, papers, and instruments. After a while he rises and walks about the chamber. In this there is nothing remarkable. But the audience is perplexed by a different circumstance: they not only see a man rise from his seat and see him walking about, but they also see that he still sits immovably in his chair—so that evidently there are two persons instead of one, for, although alike in dress, stature, and person, their actions are different. They cross and recross; they alternately take the same seat; while one reads the other is perhaps walking; and yet they appear very sullen and sulky, for they take no notice of each other, until one, after pushing down a pile of books, passes off by walking through the furniture and walls. The art in this arrangement is to have two actors sufficiently alike in person, similarly dressed, and placed so that the phantom figure sits so exactly like the living In this and other pieces of a like nature, it is presumed that the parts are not performed in dumb show, but that an able speaker either explains and gives the dialogue, or that concealed actors address the audience, timing their speech to the action before them. 2.—The Returned Mariner.A naval officer or other seafaring character, belonging to some particular vessel reported to have been wrecked, is seen in a chamber, into which his wife or sister, &c., on entering rushes forward to embrace him, but, clasping nothing, immediately falls down in a swoon. 3.—The Californian Gamblers, or Robbers.Two men, dressed almost like brigands, engage to play some game with cards or dice. They sit one on each side of a table, on which they place their revolvers. After a short play they dispute and wrangle, during which, one seizing his pistol discharges it at the other. He is horror-stricken by the bullet being returned to him, and his playmate passing away by neither window nor door. 4.—The Miser and Money-lender.He is an aged man, counting his money, and writing up his unjust gains. His room is furnished with bookshelves and cabinets. With a small taper before him, he is absorbed in monetary calculations. Presently a careworn female enters. He shudders—with cold. She opens a cabinet, takes out a long roll of parchment, replaces it, and closes the door again—not quietly, but with a clap like thunder. The miser is colder than ever—shivers more and more, and rises to look into his cabinet, from which he apparently takes the same roll, replaces it, and returns to his seat, followed by the reappearing phantom, which again rapidly disappears. This requires a duplicate cabinet, parchment, &c. 5.—A Strange Christmas-box.A porter enters the sitting-room of a bachelor while at breakfast. He lays down a deal box, is paid for it, and retires. It is a present—and after being turned over and over, hammered a good deal to burst it open, and seemingly as hard to open as an oyster would be with a pair of scissors; the cord off, the nails out, and all ready for inspection, the bachelor is suddenly called to any little attention, as the over-boiling of his kettle. He has but turned his back a moment, and behold—a cupid sits on his box! On his approach it walks round to his breakfast table. He removes the box lid and finds it crammed full of old clothes returned to him from his last residence. He is very angry, takes a seat, and is rather startled to see the box lid open, cupid get into it, and at the risk of the pretty boy being smothered, down goes the lid again. He reopens the box, taking from it cloaks, coats, boots, pipes, &c. But, where is cupid? The box has its duplicate, and the appointed place marked out for each. The box seen by the spectators, however tossed and carelessly used, is very carefully placed at last in one precise spot, where it matches an opposite empty box, large enough for a child trained to perform the part. The lid supposed to open does not open, but by rapid action the eye is so easily deceived as not to observe the duplicate lid. 6.—The Duel.It is to be fought with swords. After various passes, one is stabbed, but instead of falling, he either holds his sword behind him, as if in support, or elevates it, as if appealing to the justice of his cause; but in an instant, to the horror of his affrighted antagonist, he rushes on him with a blazing sword. The sword is a suitable flat perforated gas tube, with a vulcanised gas tube attached to the handle. A small gas jet above, or an assistant below, enables the actor instantly to produce the desired result. This example is curious, as showing with what nicety the required effect can be obtained, so as actually to bring the two blades opposite and crossing each other, when the space intervening may be 20 feet or more. It is easily done by stretching a cord or wire, or having movable metal or wood rods held upright by a solid base, placed equidistant on both stages; for it can readily be ascertained where to place them, so that a sword blade crossing a wire on one side is absolutely seen crossing the same on the other side. 7.—The Milliner Bewitched.A dressmaker and assistants are in a work-room containing a number of empty props, each with a kind of wire-shaped body for displaying dresses upon. She scarcely turns round to her work before every pole has upon it white, black, red, and other dresses, to her evident consternation. Calling in a friend, they are again empty; so, settling down, she is once more terrified by a total change of millinery in cloaks, shawls, bonnets, &c. All this is brought about by employing corresponding wired props. 8.—The Gipsy’s Promise.A plain country servant-girl in a white under-dress stands at her glass, and, having had her fortune told, is ardently wishing to be a fine lady. As she retires from the glass in her mistress’s room, she is all amazement to find herself suddenly transformed to a princess. She is attired in a splendid pink or other silk dress, and wears a turban with ostrich feathers; but before she can show herself off to her friends the whole proves a vision! The arrangement is like the former, only requiring more care and management. 9.—A Hand seen Writing.The spectre hand may actually write or gradually withdraw a slide over the letters. Either way is very surprising. The actor is behind a black curtain, his hand only seen by reflection. There are corresponding boards, that on the acting stage being black without any writing. If the board has a piece inserted in it like a valve, working on centres, the written words or name can thereby be turned out of sight with sufficient rapidity. 10.—The Otranto Picture, or Living Portrait.A scene from the “Castle of Otranto” may be imitated, representing the full-length figure in a painting stepping from the canvas into the picture gallery. The picture and frame are a phantasm; the figure being represented by a living actor, or vice versÂ. He walks from the frame to the floor; and on returning reassumes the still attitude of painted portraiture. 11.—Wonderful Jugglers.No end of scenes might be brought out under this title, by employing very little and exceedingly simple mechanical appliances; as,—Swallowing any length of rope, chain, or other material. To be effected by passing a long endless band of the same over Strong and weak bandboxes—on which an actor is seen standing, but which when another actor attempts he falls through, crushing the whole to the floor. The first actor was a mere spectre, standing on strong duplicate boxes, which being removed, the other actor has nothing but the actual weak bandboxes to sustain his weight, which he therefore crushes flat with the floor. The handing of flowers, miniatures, letters, or any article, by the spectre to the real actor, is so easy as scarcely to require explanation. There must be two of any article to be so used, one behind a small black screen on the acting stage, and the duplicate before a like screen on the other stage. While the actor appears holding the phantom letter, he in reality has taken hold of its duplicate behind the screen, only producing it the instant the other (or first seen letter) vanishes. 12.—The Wizard’s Incantation.An aged wizard in a den-like habitation, standing within the magic circle, and with a boiling caldron before him, attended by certain spirit-seekers, is endeavouring to raise the spectre of some departed relative. In due form the phantom does appear amidst the vapours of the caldron. The caldron has its duplicate, and is in fact the entrance for a trap door on the opposite stage, through which an actor is mechanically raised, appearing to the audience as the spectre, for he would be seen gradually fading away, first becoming transparent and next slowly invisible. 13.—The Greenroom Riot.A male and female actor are seen vigorously throwing at each other the masks, dresses, boxes, and other furniture of the greenroom, with the absurd effect of never being once incommoded by the hats, cloaks, coats, and dresses littered about. Of course each is throwing at nothing, and the audience is amused by the mixture of the real and the reflected actions. 14.—A Spirit-rapping SÉance.A company of this sect being assembled, rapping is heard, hands and heads seen, flowers distributed, and a spirit dimly rises, but just as the circle is about to depart the table with its books, lights, &c., turns rapidly round to their great delight. The table is visionary, and suspended for the purpose. 15.—Will-o’-the-Wisp.This ignis fatuus may be represented by a young slender actress in a white gauze dress, holding in her hand a small neatly-made paper lantern. A misguided traveller is seen groping his way along a treacherous heath to trace the whereabouts of the fascinating vision, which at last vanishes, all but the dimly lighted lantern, which last of all dies out, and the actor appears emerging from a quagmire. The small lighted lantern is seen longest, owing to its own illumination, while its smallness allows its being easily extinguished. 16.—Spectre Workman.Two men appear to be working a pump, one on each side, like some ships’ pumps, or fire-engines, but presently quarrel and fight. The mechanism is connected with an underground shaft, so that opposite actors cannot fail to rise and fall simultaneously in the requisite motions; and all the rest is a mere piece of acting. 17.—The Drunkard’s Dream.A drunkard is supposed to have ruined himself and family, and hastened the death of his wife and children for want of proper sustenance. He is seen lying on a couch, surrounded by visions of his deceased partner and children. He wakes disturbed as they disappear. Again retiring to rest they surround him once more, each bringing him large goblets of his loved beverage, which he attempts to seize, falls on the floor, and awakens in a state of violent horror and passion. 18.—Clown and Fairies.A tree is seen rising from a green and flowery mound, on which sits a country clown half asleep, with his basket, bottle, and broken victuals before him. Presently a dozen or more fairies forming a ring dance around the tree, to the great delight of the rustic, who, rubbing his eyes, attempts to join the merry dancers, who as speedily flash out of sight. The mound and trunk of the tree have their duplicate, otherwise the dancers would not be hid in passing behind it, and would therefore appear shadowy and unnatural. 19.—The Black Ghost.This effect is produced by the actor being first dressed in as white a dress as possible, and then covered with a cowl and flowing black gown; so that sometimes only the head is seen, at others only the hand or hands, and occasionally only a foot, or both feet. Or he may be dressed as usual, in black velvet, wearing a black mask, becoming observable only whenever he passes before a white screen. 20.—The Spectre Dog.A well-trained Newfoundland or other dog may appear to cross the stage as if passing through the furniture, and while jumping towards his master behind a screen, may appear by reflection as though attacking the real actor on the stage. 21.—The Haunted Hut, or Witch’s Laundry.The witch, appropriately dressed, in a low cottage chamber, may be seen with some fantastically dressed young female preparing to wash clothes. They arrange a large tub, fill it with buckets of hot water (judging from the white vapour), and put in quantities of linen. Each takes a turn at washing, raising their work into the air, in the operation. But presently the girl retires, and on returning, is seen taking quantities of all kinds of boots, shoes, hats, cats, dogs, and children out of the washing tub, finishing by throwing the wet linen into the witch’s face, who becomes excessively aggravated. This pantomime may be carried to any length. It is effected by commencing with two real actors on the stage, and then one of them leaving to commence a series of phantom actions, the audience never suspecting so odd a change. 22.—Temptations of St. Anthony.St. Anthony may be seen in his cell surrounded by all manner of imps. By having a duplicate seat, a number of youthful actors in pantomime masks and dresses can easily play the phantom part, climbing the arms and back of the chair, and gambolling at its feet, or upon and around a duplicate stand or table. 23.—Metamorphoses.These may be carried to a great extent; nothing that poets have imagined appearing too difficult, not even the change of the human form to the trunks of trees. An actress, dressed in a brown or green dress, on taking a certain assigned place and position, with upraised arms and outstretched fingers, would appear gradually to become Here the only phantom would be that of the trunk and branches of a tree, either natural or artificially arranged to correspond with the body and upraised arms and fingers of the actress. Changes from age to youth, male to female, friend to foe, and so on, may be achieved by the phantom actor stepping on a small turning portion of the stage, like a double sentry box, of which one half turn does the magic business, being occupied by two actors. 24.—Trial by Fire.Men in Gothic costume may be seen at an altar, on which wood is burning. The accused has to test his innocence by a fiery ordeal; for which purpose the priest advances, declares the crimes, and promises clearance from guilt should the accused come off scatheless. He is seen as if washing his hands in the blaze, and burning drops falling from his clasped hands. The duplicate altar has upon it a metal dish of inflamed alcohol, with a sponge dipped in it, which at the moment of clasping the hands, is raised and pressed by iron tongs, from which the dropping spirits take fire. 25.—Any Legendary Saint’s Martyrdom.Anything of this kind would be too terrible for the stage, but the principle on which it is conducted may be applied in different ways, this being but one out of many striking examples. The stake and faggots are in duplicate. The duplicate stake and faggots are employed alone for arranging among them gas pipes, and in suitable metal dishes, either spirits, or thin paper, or both, to produce varieties of fiery effect. On the acting stage the martyr would appear surrounded by the terrors of the reality of such a frightful doom. 26.—Executions by Axe or Guillotine.The descent of the instrument of execution is followed by the rising up or falling down of a black screen, effectively to hide the head, of which there must be a duplicate in waxwork. The executioner only is a real actor, and he only has access to the head. When his axe falls, all the rest takes place on the phantom stage; therefore the axe literally descends upon and adheres to the very block on which the audience saw the culprit place his neck. Such an exhibition would be anything but desirable; at the same time the modus operandi is capable of happier applications, and therefore is only introduced on account of its impressive character, the Author having no desire to encourage the too prevalent vitiated taste for horrors. 27.—The Nightmare.Some disturbance has caused a nervous gentleman to dress in a hurry in his night-cap, morning gown, and red slippers. With a blunderbuss under one arm and a night candle in one hand, he proceeds with a horse pistol in the other to look warily about, when suddenly appears before him an old grey mare eating hay—the unconscious intruder on his peace and quiet. The mare in this instance is the only spectre, and the whole scene is due to a well-known engraving of such a subject. 28.—The Doubtful Visitor.A lady is informed that a strange lady has called upon her. They meet in the drawing-room, courtesy to each other, and finally take their seats on a couch. Soon afterwards they rise, but the stranger rudely drops her cloak, parasol, reticule, gloves, 29.—A Pantomime.Supposing the stage to appear as if supplied with real scenery, which should only after all be phantasms, it is clear that the feats of harlequins would be infinitely more surprising than with interposed wood and canvas. Such a scene as jumping through the mouth of a large mask could in no other way be represented. Fire may be held to the person without danger, outvieing the red-painted poker so amusing to youth in all such wild gambolling scenes. The kicks and cuffs that might be bestowed on a spectre actor, actress, horse, or dog, without disturbing the gravity or person on whom bestowed, is of itself sufficiently ludicrous. In fairy and goblin scenes the rapid appearance and disappearance of such visitors form an essential part in their introduction, and when they are grotesque, their phantom-like character would encircle them with all the sparkling attributes of a lively jest. 30.—Ghost of China.Among other parts of any suitable scene, large china jars, dishes, jugs, plates, or other earthenware and glass, may appear so placed that on the actor falling on the floor the audience shall hear the crash of china and glass, and see the whole fall upon him, yet shall he rise unhurt, as though nothing had happened. This is obtained by means of communicating wires or cords between the two stages, so that the one cannot fail to act in concert with the other. 31.—Pilgrim and Saint.The worthy saint is seen with outstretched sandalled foot, and a pilgrim with pointed iron-shod staff standing beside him. Wishing to show the holy man some relics he strikes his staff into the ground to release his hand in the act of opening out his treasure. But, behold! he has pinned the saint’s foot to the earth with his pilgrim’s staff. 32.—The Spectre’s Kiss.Two young ladies enter a drawing-room from opposite ends, courtesy and dance; when their performance is over they approach and kiss each other, and then seem to be attempting to shake hands, but in vain, on which one falls down while the other slowly and almost imperceptibly vanishes. In many other devices, as in this, the same means for effecting a near approach may be resorted to, nothing more being required than a piece of glass supported on a black pole, which, as ascertained beforehand, exactly distances the two heads, the lips approaching the glass on an opposite side, in opposite directions, far apart. It must not be overlooked that these various scenes require different modes of action, a leading one being the peculiar property that this phantasmagoria affords of uniting as one body a phantom with a substance, whether alike or unlike in form and colour. This is a feature so important that it will not be out of place here to dwell upon it more at large, to impress so important a property on the attention of all who may desire an intimate acquaintance with the subject. As a preliminary step, let a few chromotographic experiments be made. Set a yellow cube before the mirror and a blue one behind it, in a model apparatus, employing the sun’s light. Blue and yellow it might be supposed would give a cube having a green tint, instead of which it will be snow white. Again, for blue, substitute a deep pink; and for yellow white, when the pink will disappear all but the faintest possible tinge—the shadow or phantom appearing to overwhelm the coloured Acting on this property of matching one body into another, so as to all appearance to absorb it into itself, many curious dramatic effects may be produced, whether the subjects be animate or inanimate. And this mode of procedure is always in demand where the phantom is required to touch, handle, and repeat the actions of an ordinary actor. On this peculiarity of matching one body into another so exactly depends the striking character of “The Haunted Man,” where the actor himself is so placed; so likewise “The Miser,” with several others, where furniture, chairs, or any other things or vessels require to be so conjoined. In “The Bachelor,” the article used is a box, which is carried and moved about, but ultimately fixed in a pre-arranged spot. It would not be easy to perform such parts with animals or with children, as they would not be likely to keep sufficiently quiet and immovable. Whenever the actors on the opposite stages have to play similar parts, then such duplicates of solid and shadow or reflection must always be employed. Two couches are required to make it appear that two persons are sitting on one couch, although in reality each couch has only one occupant; but in the acting the only spectre that appears is the actor, while the spectral couch is absorbed into and hid by the real couch. So likewise in sitting to a table—two tables and two persons must act the part, and the result that follows is the same as before; but if only one of these actors places anything on the table, then the opposite actor cannot touch it, unless its duplicate is already placed there for the purpose, behind a black screen, by which means flowers, letters, books, &c., may appear to pass from hand to hand. The necessity of corresponding stops and marks on the two stages is shown in “The Duel.” A mark on the floor directs where to place the feet; slender black rods, set in a weighted foot, mark places for the body, feet, or hands; and suspended wires or cords answer the same purpose. But such marks may be, as in the case of “The Milliner,” some part of the furnishing of the apartment, as there we see taking place with mere clothes’ props; or, indeed, as in “The Gipsy’s Promise,” the very person of the actor. As the entire person is, sometimes, not required to be seen, it is always easy to exclude any portion by employing a black dress, screen, or curtain, as in “A Hand seen Writing.” A curious result is obtained by appearing to give animation to the inanimate. This may be seen in “The Otranto Picture,” where the actor standing within a framed recess has all the appearance of a painted full-length portrait, the stepping of which from the canvas realises a romantic story of “The Castle of Otranto.” The absence of all machinery or trap-doors to get rid of “The Ghost” can be rendered strikingly obvious in two ways: first, by the very gradual dissolving of the vision until it becomes thoroughly transparent; or, secondly, by placing in the hand some very bright object, either a dagger, sword, censor, or small enclosed light. By using a night light, having a paper or ground-glass shade, the same will appear as though floating in the air after entirely losing sight of every other spectral object. Yet trap-doors and machinery may become accessories in many scenes. “The Wizard’s Incantation” requires a duplicate caldron, which on the spectre stage is merely an upright circular frame around a trap-door, through which the spectre actor has to be raised to be presented to the audience by reflection. So also in “The Spectre Workman,” simultaneous action is produced by an underground shaft, which in some cases may be otherwise produced; even bell-wires, cords, and the like serving for many purposes, as illustrated in “The Ghost of China.” The method of double acting is shown in “The Witch’s Laundry,” producing some strangely startling results. One or both of two actors may, by changing to the opposite Advantage may be taken in many scenes of the marvellous property of the phantom to overpower and conceal the colour and features of a corresponding substance. In “Metamorphoses,” this is made evident by the facility shown in causing the human figure to take the form of a branching tree, which the wizard can readily disenchant, reproducing a living actor or actress. By such means the classic stories of Ovid, or the sprightly and wonderful creations of the Arabian Nights, may be set before an admiring audience; and when the changes cannot be exactly thus realised, the mechanical arrangements for turning one actor from and another actor into view, aided by screens, is so exceedingly simple as to render minute details superfluous. Actors may appear to dress and change with the rapidity of lightning; age may become youth, and vice versÂ; and even, a gorilla might step forth an altered creature to trip the “light fantastic toe!” In some scenes the peculiarity may consist in the spectre passing off undiscovered, and only be traced by its phantom accompaniments, as in “The Doubtful Visitor,” who sitting on the same couch with a lady, departs without any other strangeness of action than leaving behind some portions of her phantom dress. In pantomime and legerdemain the Optical Illusions eclipse every extravaganza hitherto conceived for making the “eyes the fools o’ the other senses.” And what is still more remarkable, this portion of the subject is so exceedingly simple to perform that, although short, yet sufficient directions will be found in the description of scenes under the respective titles of “Pantomime” and “Jugglers.” These few observations appeared requisite to impress on the general reader that each of the preceding scenes involves some peculiarity in arrangement to produce the effect described, and that, therefore, they are not all on one model. Some show the actors apart, some together, and afterwards separate; some with and some without machinery of any kind; some with phantom actors, others with only phantom dresses or furniture; and others again employing animals, as the horse, dog, &c. The mechanical portion of the arrangements are too various to enter upon in minute description, but they are generally of such a nature as any practical workman employed on theatrical machinery will readily understand. The modes of arranging the transparent mirror are as numerous as in the employment of ordinary mirrors. It may be used framed, or for some purposes without any frame whatever; it may be suspended and slide on framework placed above, by means of pulleys, thus leaving the stage floor free from any grooving or any raised portion. Or, it may be made to swing like a hinged door, whether hinged at top, bottom, or either side. Or, it may turn on centres, so as to be half in and half out, when turned to right angles with its common position, being thus capable of regulation to any desired angle. It is also obvious that the position of the mirror necessitates a corresponding change in the placing of the spectre stage, so that the one shall always be opposite the other. As it is not requisite to cover the entire front of the stage with one or more mirrors, their use may often be artistically concealed by pillars, trees, or similar devices, in which case the spectral effects will be limited to such mirrored portions. When out of use, these large mirrors can be made to slide, sink, or rise, as done with the scenes in general use. GamesGames.—Space being limited, choice is made here of a few games not generally known. BÉzique (Polish).—Polish bÉzique, sometimes called open bÉzique, or Fildinski, is played by 2 persons in the same way as ordinary bÉzique, except in the following particulars. The tricks are not left on the table at Polish bÉzique, but are thus Declarations can only be made from open cards, and never from cards held in the player’s hand. This is the fundamental difference between Polish and ordinary bÉzique. As soon as a trick is won containing a card or cards that can be used in declaring, those cards are transferred to the open cards (if any) already in possession of the winner of the trick, and as soon as a card is won that completes a scoring combination, the declaration is made and the score marked. For example. A. has 3 open queens, and he wins a trick containing a queen. Before drawing again, he places the fourth queen in the row which contains the other 3 queens, and scores 60 for queens. The 7 of trumps can be exchanged for the turn up when a trick is won with it, but not when a trick is won with another card by a player who holds the 7 in his hand. Similarly the 7, if not exchanged, can be declared when a trick is won with it. If the 7 of trumps is played, and is won with a higher trump, the winner of the trick declares or exchanges the 7. The principle is the same throughout, viz. that declarations are made only out of cards won, and by the winner of them. At Polish bÉzique compound declarations are allowed, i.e. all the scores that can be made when cards are added to open cards are made at once, and the same card may be declared more than once (in combinations of a different class), without waiting to win another trick. The ordinary rule that a card once declared cannot be again declared in combinations of the same class, e.g. a king once married cannot be married again; a fifth ace added to 4 aces already declared does not entitle to reckon aces over again. As examples of compound declarations take the following: A. wins the queen of faintest possible tinge—the shadow or phantom appearing to overwhelm the coloured trumps with the king. He has in his open cards 3 kings, 4 queens, and the ace, 10, knave of trumps. He declares royal marriage (40), 4 kings (80), but not 4 queens, as he cannot again reckon any of the 4 queens already declared in that class of combination, and sequence (250), in all 370. Again, the ace of spades is turned up, and the ace of hearts is led. The second player wins the ace of hearts with the 7 of trumps, and exchanges the 7 for the turn up. He scores 10 for the exchange, and 10 for each of the aces he adds to his open cards—in all 30. If at the same time he were in possession of 2 other open aces, he would score 100 more for 4 aces. At Polish bÉzique aces and 10’s must be declared as soon as the trick is won, and not at the end of the hand, a mode of scoring preferred by some players at ordinary bÉzique. In the play of the hand it is not compulsory to follow suit nor to win the trick, and a player may win the trick by trumping notwithstanding that he holds a card of the suit led. But in the last 8 tricks suit must be followed if the second player has one of the suit led. The trick in the last 8 tricks must also be won by the second player if he has a higher card of the suit than the one led. If he has none of the suit led, and has a trump, he must win the card led by trumping. Declarations do not cease at Polish bÉzique when playing the last 8 tricks. They are made just as in the early part of the hand after winning a trick and before leading again. Polish bÉzique is generally played 2000 up, as the average scores are considerably higher than at ordinary bÉzique. Block. Implements.—A board as in Fig. 105, the figures not being necessary, except when the game is played by correspondence—they are placed here to simplify the examples—16 pegs, and 2 King pegs; 12 pegs and the King pegs being required for play, the 4 remaining pegs are a reserve force of 2 for each player. Play.—Divide the pegs, one player taking the White, the other the Black. The first to play is decided by lot. Each player then places a peg into one of the holes in turn, occupying those which he may consider the most advantageous, until the 12 pegs and the 2 King pegs have been placed. Then each moves one of his pegs in turn, but only one hole at a time, and as the lines run. Points of the Game.—To Block, to Force, and to Make a Line. (a) To block is to get a peg on each side of one of your adversary’s: this, if an ordinary peg, is its capture, and it is immediately removed off the board. 105. Block. Example.—Black having a peg in 1, and White playing a peg in 2, Black captures that peg by playing a peg in 3; but White having a peg in 4 can capture Black’s peg in 3 by playing another peg in 2; or White having pegs in 1, 10, and 24, and Black a peg in 9 could block Black’s peg by playing peg 24 either into 17 or 16. But to block the King peg, the other holes surrounding him must be filled, though it is of no consequence by whose pegs. To block the King peg is game. His only means of escape is by immediately capturing one of the pegs blocking; if he cannot do this, and cannot move, the game is over. Example.—Black’s King peg being in 3, and White having a peg in 4, is not blocked by White placing a peg in 2, because the hole 11 is unoccupied. Or supposing Black to occupy 11 (King peg), and 3, and White 2, 12 and 19, the game would be lost to Black by White playing 2 to 10, which blocks the King; but if Black had a peg in 17, 16 or 1 to immediately play into 9 he would capture 10, which is one of the blocking pegs, and so liberate the King peg. The other blocking peg is 12. Capturing 19 would be of no avail, neither would moving his own peg 3. (b) To force is to get 2 pegs on a line with one of your adversary’s, in which case you force him to move that peg to the first vacant hole on its square, in whichever direction it may occur, and in the event of there not being one vacant on its square, to whichever square has the nearest. Example.—Black, occupying hole 1, could force White from hole 3 by placing a peg in hole 2 in which case White’s peg 3 would have to move to 4; or by occupying holes 11 and 19, when White would have 2 holes at equal distance—4 and 2; and could move into either unless the forcer gave the preference. If the King peg be forced, a peg is thereby gained from the reserve which is placed in the hole vacated by the King. (c) To make a line is to get 3 of your pegs on one line in any way but diagonally, in which case the third or last peg moved to make the line can be at once removed to any vacant hole on the board. Example.—By occupying holes 1 2 3, 2 10 18, 9 10 11; in fact any way but from corner to corner as 1 9 17 or 19 11 3. If your adversary insists upon maintaining a peg in a hole to your great disadvantage, play your pegs so as to force him from it, having first prepared a hole for him to move Rules.—1. Each player places one peg in turn, and when all are placed, moves in the same manner, but only as the lines run, and one hole at a time. 2. A force made during the placing of the pegs does not interfere with that player’s turn; that is to say, if White in playing the pegs occupies hole 1, and Black hole 3, Black would be forced by White taking hole 2 and would have to move, but would immediately afterwards place his peg as was his turn. 3. The placing of a peg gained from the reserve into the hole vacated by King peg does not count as a move, consequently any advantage so gained is nil. 4. The playing a peg when forced counts the same as its move, and reaps any advantage gained by occupying the hole it is forced into. 5. A forced peg, having the preference of 2 holes to move into, can be compelled by the forcer to occupy either. 6. A made block or made force is of no advantage; that is to say, if Black occupied holes 1 and 3, White could put a peg in hole 2 without being captured; or Black possessing holes 1 and 2, White could place a peg in 3 without being forced. The same applies to a peg when forced into such a position. 7. Any advantage gained in a move, and not noticed before the next move, cannot be counted. 8. A person drawing a peg is compelled to move it, and on the event of its being placed in a hole, must there leave it. 9. A peg played to force or block cannot claim the advantage of a line if it make one by so playing, for instance, Black in 1, 6, 8, and 23, a white peg being in 15; Black by playing 6 to 7 can either take it as a line or block 15, but not both. Neither can 2 pegs be forced or blocked in the one move. The player has the preference in each case. A peg can, however, block and force in the one move. Example.—White occupying holes 9 and 8, and Black holes 15 and 24, Black by getting a peg into 16 forces both 8 and 9; he therefore compels his adversary to move whichever is most to the forcer’s advantage. Or white in 10, 19, 13, with Black in 9 and 12, captures peg 12, and forces peg 9, by moving from 19 to 11. 10. A player, whose turn it is to move, having his pegs so surrounded that he cannot—draws the game. 11. A player having the whole of his pegs (9) on the board can gain no more by forcing the King. 12. A game being reduced to only 3 pegs on the board can be drawn, if not won in 20 moves. (H. E. Heather, Amateur Chess Magazine.) Chancery.—This new round game at cards requires no tuition, and can be played by the smallest child, and by any number. If the company does not exceed 5 or 6, one pack of cards is sufficient; if it does exceed that number, extra cards are preferable. A pool is then subscribed, say 5 counters by each player; that is generally enough to keep it floating for some time, though should it run out another subscription is called for immediately. The cards are then scattered in the centre of the table, with their faces downwards. Each player then draws one in turn, displaying it before him and calling what it is. Should it only be an ordinary card or picture drawn each time let the cards drawn lie in The cards to score points are: 1. The majority in possession when all are drawn. 2. The majority of court cards. 3. Every ace. 4. Every ace to which you have also drawn the deuce of the same suit. Should any player draw the deuce of the same suit as an ace drawn he calls the owner’s attention to the fact, who immediately places the ace with his other cards, it being “killed” and reduced in value. Should a deuce be drawn before the ace of its suit it must be replaced with the others again, and another card be taken, the cards being previously shuffled. A player drawing the deuce of the same suit as an ace in his possession places it upon the ace, and keeps them separate from the others, as they score the most points. If a card drawn pairs with the player on either side, the person drawing the pairing card has immediately to pass all his cards to the one so paired, and pay a forfeit of one point to the pool. When all the cards have been taken the pool-master (it is best always to appoint one player to occupy this post, or confusion is apt to ensue) pays out the points scored as follows: 1. For the majority of cards, 1 point. 2. For each ace on which the deuce has not been drawn, 2 points. 3. For majority of pictures, 3 points. 4. For each ace on which the deuce has been drawn, 4 points. The cards are then mixed for a fresh start, and the pool again subscribed if run low. Laws.—1. Each player to take but one card, and in turn; departure from this rule a fine of one to the pool. 2. If a deuce is drawn before the ace, it is to be replaced; if drawn after the ace, and replaced in mistake, it cannot be recovered, provided the ace was conspicuously displayed; the player so doing loses his turn and pays one to the pool. 3. A player turning a card other than that he draws pays one to the pool. 4. A player pairing with the last card drawn by the person on either side of him passes all his cards to that player and pays one to the pool. Should it so happen that he pairs with both, the one on the left has the preference. 5. It is not necessary that a player should have any cards in his possession to be paired with; the last card he drew, whether he has lost it or not, is the one to count. 6. Any dispute to be settled by pool-master. 7. Pool-master to be chosen for each game if desired. (H. E. Heather). Dominoes.—A set of dominoes usually consists of 28 oblong cards, each consisting of 2 squares united; no 2 pieces are alike, they being distinguished by pips. It is important for the learner to bear in mind that there are 7 dominoes of each number, and that each number is joined to one of each of the others. The calculations of the game are founded on these facts. Dominoes are usually made with bone or ivory faces and ebony backs. They are shuffled, or “made,” as it is technically termed, by being turned downwards on the table, and mixed quickly by a light pressure and rapid movement with the hands. On the Continent, where the game is usually played on a marble or hardwood table, the dominoes have frequently a projecting metal stud in the middle of the face; this enables them to be mixed with greater facility on smooth surfaces, but prevents their being effectually shuffled on one covered with a cloth, unless a large sheet of cardboard is interposed. Care should be taken that the back of the dominoes should not be stained or marked, as, if only one is thus capable of being distinguished, it lessens in As the game usually played is 100, a marker is convenient to score the successive additions made by each player. On the Continent very convenient markers are used; but there is a simple plan of making them extemporaneously with a visiting card. This is to be cut as shown in Fig. 106. 106. Domino Marker. By turning back the nicks along the dotted lines the number marked on each is scored; a card so notched will score up to 99, and will answer for a large number of games before it becomes useless by the nicks breaking off. The dominoes having been shuffled face downwards on the table, one of the two players pushes 2 towards the other, who selects one of the two, leaving the other for his opponent. Both are then turned up, and the player who has the highest number has the lead, or “pose,” as it is called. In England it is frequent for the holder of the 6-6 (double six) to pose first—a stupid plan, as it quite spoils the first hand, inasmuch as 6-6 may be a very bad domino to play from the dominoes held. The 2 dominoes drawn and exposed are again mixed with the others, the non-leader mixing for them last. Each player then selects 7 dominoes; the leader plays one, placing it face upwards on the table, and the opponent matches it from his own hand, playing at either end as he thinks fit. Thus, if the first player plays 4-5, the second may play either a 5 to his 5, or, should he think it more advantageous, a 4 to the 4, thus: If a double is played first, which gives the second player only one number to play to, it is usual to place the double in a cross. In either case the first player plays again, and so on alternately until one or other has played out, when he scores the pips on the domino or dominoes remaining in his opponent’s hand. If one player cannot play at either end, he says “go,” when his opponent plays on until some number is posed to which he can play. If neither can play, both hands are shown, and the one that has the fewest pips wins the score, which should consist of the whole of the opponent’s pips as well as his own added together. After a score the dominoes are turned and mixed, the pose or lead being taken alternately. Persons who know but little of the game think that the best play is at once to get rid of the heaviest dominoes, but this is not necessarily the case; but with a heavy hand, every care should be taken not to let the opponent close the game leaving you with a heavy score. In this most simple English game the aim of the player should be to make his long suit, and prevent his opponent playing. Following are a few examples of hands played in the ordinary English game with 7 pieces. In this game the player sees his whole hand of seven at once, and he knows that his opponent has also seven, or one-third of the remainder; the other 14 dominoes are untouched, and he can make his calculations and play his game accordingly. In this game, each player plays alternately, until one or other has played all his dominoes, when he scores the number of pips left in his opponent’s hand. Should either be An inexperienced player would probably play his 6-6, that being a heavy card, and in all probability he would lose the score if his opponent had 2 or 3 sixes in his hand. The proper play would be the 2-2, as it gives B. only one number to play to, and if, as not unfrequently happens, B. has no twos, A. has the chance of a splendid game. Let us take B.’s hand as follows:—6-4, 6-3, 6-1, 5-4, 5-1, 3-0, 1-1. A. plays 2-2. As B. cannot play, A. plays again, selecting the card of which he has most (so as to lessen B.’s chance as much as possible), this would be the 2-5, as he has 2 fives in his hand and only a single one. If B. plays 5-1, which offers his best chance of success, A. will play 1-2, and the game will be shut up. On counting the pips, A. will be found to have 22 and B. 46. A. consequently scores 68 towards the game of 100. If, on the contrary, A. plays the 6-6, he may lose, and he cannot possibly win as many as he could have done with the previous play. If B. replies to 6-6 with 6-1, A. would then play 1-2, B. 6-4, A. 2-2, B. 4-5, A. would close the game by making 2-all, viz. 2 at both ends, by placing 5-2 to the 5 end, and his score would be 36, made up of B.’s 20 pips and A.’s own 16. A hand with 3 or 4 of any one number is better than a hand with only 2 of each sort, even supposing the first to be much the heavier, as it gives a command of the game, and enables the holder to shut his adversary out and to play his own dominoes as he likes, closing the game if he thinks fit. Thus take the following hands, A. to play first with the heavy pieces, viz.: 6-6, 6-4, 6-3, 6-1, 5-4, 5-2, 5-1, and B. to be his opponent with the light hand: 5-0, 4-1, 3-3, 3-1, 2-2, 2-1. If A. commences with 6-6, B. must lose, provided A. plays with the most ordinary skill. The principle of the game is to play so as to bring the numbers of which you hold most (and therefore in all probability your opponent least) at the ends; by this means you play out more dominoes than he does, and you often have the opportunity of closing the game. But this must be done with judgment, for it sometimes may happen that the player who shuts up the game loses, as his opponent may have a less number than he has, and win the score. It is this uncertainty which gives interest to the game, for to close the game and win when the numbers are nearly equal shows the skill and judgment of the player. Mill.—This is a good evening game for boys. It somewhat resembles draughts, and is easily manufactured as follows: Take a sheet of stiff white cardboard, such as is sold for mounting water-colour drawings, &c., draw on it 3 oblong squares (Fig. 107) one within the other; the outside square, say 18 in. by 14 in., the second 14 in. by 10 in., and the third 10 in. by 6 in. Unite the 3 squares by drawing 4 opposite lines from the centre square to the outside square, so as to make 4 passages, enabling the players to move their men from one square to the other. Fig. 107 shows the board, with a game in progress. In this game the black men are supposed to be winning. At the right hand black has a double mill, and a single mill at the top; white has a double mill also, but is afraid to open it, as black would instantly seize his man. The lines forming each square should be ½ in. wide. The board can be made in a few minutes with the help of a flat rule with the inches marked on it. “Mill” is played by 2 people, each of whom has nine men; draught men will do. Having chosen who is to commence, begin by placing a man on any part of the board, either at the corner of a 107. Mill. 108. PachÎsÎ. PachÎsÎ.—This is a variety of the game of draughts as played by the natives of India, as good as, if not superior to, the English game. The freedom of moving in any direction, and the fact that it is not obligatory to accept a force, make the game one entirely of tactics, and are productive of many phases before the game is finished. The rules are few and simple. The name PachÎsÎ is derived from the Oriental expression for “25”—the number of posts in the square (Fig. 108): a are places for the men when off the board. PachÎsÎ is played with a board as in Fig. 108, and 16 pieces on each side. The centre line of posts is left vacant. A piece may be moved in any direction along any line (and this includes advancing, retiring, and a lateral or diagonal move), but no farther than one post. Captures are made as in draughts, and are not limited in number, i.e. each piece has the power of a crowned piece in ordinary draughts. It is not obligatory Poker.—Poker is a round game at cards, much played in America, but scarcely known in this country. Recently it has found favour here. The deal is determined by throwing a card to each player, the lowest having the first deal, and the deal afterwards proceeding to the left, as at whist. A pack of 52 cards is used. It is better not to play with more than 6 players. The dealer, beginning with the person at his left, throws round 5 cards to each player, giving one card at a time. The dealer shuffles and makes up the pack himself, or it may be done by the player at his left, and the player at his right must cut. To begin the pool, the player next to the dealer on his left must put up money, which is called an “ante,” and then in succession each player, passing round to the left, must, after looking at his hand, determine if he goes in or not; and each person deciding to play for the pool must put in twice the amount of the ante. Those who decline to play throw up their cards face downwards on the table, and for convenience in front of the next dealer. When all who wish to play have gone in, the person putting up the ante can either give up all interest in the pool, thus forfeiting the ante which has been put up, or else can play like the others who have gone in, by “making good,” that is, putting up in addition to the ante as much more as will make him equal in stake to the rest. If a number of players have gone in, it is best generally for the ante-man to make good and go in, even with a poor hand, because half his stake is already up, and he can therefore stay in for half as much as the others have had to put up, which is a percentage in favour of his taking the risk. This of course does not apply if any one has “raised,” that is, more than doubled the ante, before it comes around to the starting point. Any one at the time of going in must put up as much as double the ante, and may put up as much more as he pleases, by way of “raising” the ante; in which case, every other player must put up as much as will make his stake equal to such increase, or else abandon what he has already put in. Each player as he makes good, and equals the others who are in before him, can thus increase the ante if he chooses, compelling the others still to come up to that increase, or to abandon their share in the pool. All “going in,” or “raising” of the pool, as well as all betting afterwards, must be in regular order, going round by the left; no one going in, making good, increasing the ante, or betting, except in turn. When all are in equally who intend to play, each player in turn will have the privilege of drawing; that is, of throwing away any number of his 5 cards, and drawing as many others, to try to better his hand. The cards thus thrown up must be placed face downwards on the table, and, for convenience, in front of or near the next dealer. The dealer, passing around to the left, will ask each player in turn how many cards he will have, and deal him the number asked for, from the top of the pack, without their being seen. The dealer if he has gone in to play for the pool will, in like manner, help himself last. The players must throw away their discarded cards before taking up, or looking at those they draw. In the game every player is for himself and against all others, and to that end will not let any of his cards be seen, nor betray the value of his hand by drawing or playing out of his turn, or by change of countenance or any other sign. It is a great object to mystify your adversaries up to the “call” when hands have to be shown. To this end it is permitted to chaff or talk nonsense with a view of misleading your adversaries as to the value of your hand, but this must be without unreasonably delaying the game. When the drawing is all complete, the betting goes around in order, like the drawing, When a player puts in only as much as has been put in by each player who has preceded him, that is called “seeing” the bet. When a player puts in that much, and raises it, that is called seeing the bet and “going better.” When the bet goes around to the last better or player who remains in, if he does not wish to see and go better, he simply sees and “calls,” and then all playing must show their hands, and the highest hand wins the pool. When any one declines to see the bet, or the increase of bet which has been made, he “lays down” his hand, that is, throws it up with the cards, face downwards, on the table. If all the other players throw down their hands, the one who remains in to the last wins, and takes the pool without showing his hand. To “bluff” is to take the risk of betting high enough on a poor hand or a worthless one to make all the other players lay down their hands without seeing or calling you. When a hand is complete, so that the holder of it can play without drawing to better it, that is called a “pat” hand. A bold player will sometimes decline to draw any cards, and pretend to have a pat hand, and play it as such, when he has none. A skilful player will watch and observe what each player draws, the expression of the face, the circumstances and manner of betting, and judge, or try to judge, of the nature of each hand opposed to him accordingly. No one is bound to answer the question, how many cards he drew, except the dealer; and the dealer is not bound to tell after the betting has begun. Drawing.—If the player determines to draw to a pair, he draws 3 cards. If he draws to 2 pairs, he draws one card. If he holds 3 to begin with, he draws 2 cards, in order to have the best chance of making a full, inasmuch as, in playing, pairs are apt to run together. But, to deceive his adversaries and make them think he has nothing better than 2 pairs, a sharp player will often draw but one card to his 3’s. It is advisable sometimes to keep an ace or other high card as an “outsider,” with a small pair, and draw but one card—thus taking the chance of matching the high cards and so getting a good 2 pairs, or something better possibly—while at the same time others may be deceived into believing that the player is drawing to 3’s. When drawing to cards of the same suit to try to make a flush, or to cards of successive denominations to try to make a sequence, as many more cards are to be taken as will be needed to fill out the flush or the sequence. But it is seldom advisable to venture in to draw for either a flush or a sequence when more than one card is required to complete the hand. When a player holds 4’s in his original hand it is as good as it can be, and yet it is best to throw away the outside card and draw one, because others may then think he is only drawing to 2 pairs, or for a flush or a sequence, and will not suspect the great value of the hand. When one is in (as he ought seldom to be) without even so much as a pair, his choice must be either to discard 4 cards, or 3 cards, and draw to the highest, or 2 highest in the hand, or throw away the whole hand and draw 5, or look content and serious, stand pat, and bet high! The player determining to try this last alternative on a worthless hand had generally better begin by raising when he goes in, or else nobody will be likely to believe in his pretended strong hand. Relative Value of Hands in their Order, beginning with the Best.—1. A Sequence Flush: Which is a sequence of 5 cards, and all of the same suit. 2. Fours: Which is 4 out of the 5 cards, of the same denomination. 3. A Full: Which is a hand consisting of 3 cards of the same denomination, and 2 of likewise equal denomination. 4. A Flush: Which is all 5 cards of the same suit. 5. A Sequence: Which is all 5 cards not of the same suit, but all in sequence. (In computing the value of a sequence an ace counts either as the highest or lowest card, that is, below a deuce or above a king.) 6. Threes: Which is 3 cards of the same denomination, but the other 2 of different denominations from each other. 7. Two Pairs. 8. One Pair. 9. Highest Card: When a hand has neither of the above, the count is by the cards of highest value or denomination. [Ace is highest.] When parties opposed, each holds a pair, the highest pair wins, and the same when each party holds 3’s or 4’s. When each party holds 2 pairs, the highest pair determines the relative value of the hands. When each party holds a sequence, the hand commencing with the highest card in sequence wins; so also when two or more parties hold flushes against each other. That full counts highest of which the 3 cards of the same denomination are highest. The 2 cards of the same denomination help only to constitute the full, but do not add to the value of the hand. When hands are equal so far that each party holds a pair or 2 pairs of exactly the same value, then the next highest card or cards in each hand must be compared with the next highest card or cards in the other hand to determine which wins. In case of the highest hands (which very seldom occurs) being exactly equal, the pool is divided. The main elements of success in the game are: (1) good luck, (2) good cards, (3) plenty of cheek, and (4) good temper. (The Field.) Vint, or Siberian Whist.—This game is at present much played and is very popular in Russia, and comprises some very interesting features. The scoring appears complicated, but is not really so, and may be easily learnt in one evening’s play. It is similar to whist, with the difference that there are many more combinations, and the rewards and penalties are greater. The object is to make the number of tricks you declare, with a certain suit for trumps, or without trumps, according to the declaration; but should a less number of tricks be obtained, then a penalty of a certain number of points is scored to the opponents, according to the number of tricks short of the number declared. The side that reaches 400 first scores game, but the hands are played out and scores and penalties marked as usual. The laws of whist apply to revoke and general rules. Cut for partners and deal as in whist, the last card not to be turned up. Value of Suits.—Spades, as seen below, are the lowest in value, and “without trumps” the highest. Declaring.—The dealer commences with one declaration, then the player on left hand, and so on; each declaration must be of a higher value than the previous one. Scoring—Is noted at the end of each hand, every trick counting thus, with a declaration of “Spades,” AB., 7 tricks = 28; CD., 6 tricks = 24. A declaration of, say “3 Diamonds,” then AB. 9 tricks = 252; and CD., 4 tricks = 112; or if AB. make 10 tricks = 280; and CD. 3 = 84. Big Schlem, 1000; little ditto, 500; rubber, 1000; game, 500. Bird 300 each, scored to winners of rubber. Honours, &c.—The 10 counts as an honour; 1 or 2 honours do not count; 3 honours, score according to value of suit thus: 3 honours spades score 120 (a zero always being added); 4 = 160; 5 = 200. 3 honours in, say hearts = 300; 4, 400; 5, 500. 3 aces count 150; 4, 200; 1 or 2 do not count. A game being played “without trumps,” honours do not count; but aces score, for 3, 300, 4, 400. The honours and aces may be in the 2 partners’ hands, as at whist. Penalties.—Should the number of tricks declared not be made, the penalty is reckoned thus: For a declaration of, say “Spades,” other suit, or “without trumps,” 400 points for every trick under the number declared; a declaration of “Two” of any suit, 800 points; for “Three,” 1200 points for every trick, and so on. Thus, if the declaration was “Five” of a suit, or “without trumps,” and only 9 tricks were made, or 2 short, the penalty would be 4000 to be scored to the opponents. Penalties, honours, aces, &c., are scored above the line, and do not count towards game, but are scored as points. The total number of points scored by the losers during the game, and also the rubber, must be deducted from the winners’ score, the balance, if any, credited to the winners; or it may happen that the winners of a rubber may lose in points. Should the game be for stakes, so much per point should be calculated. Illustrative “Vint” Hand.
A. and B. are partners. A. is the dealer, and begins declaring
A. and B. have to make 10 tricks, with diamonds as trumps. C. leads. A. and B. make 10 tricks, scored thus:
The above hand is only given to show how the declaring may be made. (The Field.) Supplementary Literature. Mrs. Orrinsmith: ‘The Drawing-room; its decorations and furniture.’ London, 1878. 2s. 6d. Henry J. Dakin: ‘The Stage in the Drawing-room; or the Theatre at Home. Practical Hints on Amateur Acting for Amateur Actors.’ London, 1883. 1s. Capt. Crawley: ‘The Handy Book of Games for Gentlemen. Billiards, Bagatelle, Backgammon, Chess, Draughts, Whist, Loo, Cribbage, ÉcartÉ, Picquet, All Fours, Quadrille, Pope Joan, Matrimony, Vingt-un, Quinze, Put, Speculation, &c.’ London, 1876. 5s. Cavendish’s ‘Pocket Guides to Backgammon, Chess, Draughts, &c.’ London, 1878. 6d. each. | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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