Home Fun

The table should be covered with a cloth sufficiently long to touch the ground on all sides. The rear of the high-backed chair and window-curtain are to be used as hiding-places, and must be practicable for the purpose. Small chairs and an old stool are also required. Except for a small lighted lamp which Sacks, the first to enter, places on the table, the stage is in darkness.

This play takes thirty-five minutes. The plot is built on the misunderstanding that arises between the four swains—who have unconsciously chosen the same place and hour to meet their ladies—and the Chevalier d’Espion, who, expecting to find a quartette of fellow-conspirators, mistakes them for such in disguise. Soldiers appear to arrest the Chevalier, who manages to escape. Sacks proves the identity of the rest, and so all ends happily.

The dialogue must be brisk and the action kept interesting. Acted in the right spirit, it cannot fail to produce roars of merriment. It has a further advantage of not being too great a strain on the memorizing powers of those who have never previously essayed to learn prose by heart.

A reliable prompter, concealed from the audience, should be close at hand. His business is to follow the dialogue intently, giving aid when necessary in a clear, low voice. Words should never be whispered, nor too loudly spoken. A happy medium is acquired by experience.

The make-up required by the characters is as follows:—

Sacks (florid flesh tint), grease paint (red) No. 2¹⁄₂; a slight cobweb of good-natured wrinkles and crowsfeet, such as would be caused by laughter. Red, black, or gray wig, according to taste.

Grindstone (sallow flesh tint), chrome grease paint; peevish and discontented lines about the mouth, furrowed forehead, peruke slightly gray, nose paste to enlarge nose, sparse ruffled eyebrows.

Louis (sallow flesh tint), chrome grease paint; peruke any color fancied, premature wrinkles, small white. A few front teeth in upper gum stopped out with small noir.

Max sunburnt. Fritz ruddy. The Chevalier d’Espion bronzed. Officer and guard, 2¹⁄₂ medium flesh.

Another fascinating play for boys is “The Poor Relation,” also written by Miss Keating, and included with “The Plot of Potzentausend” in “A Series of Original Comedies.”

Grease paints should be composed of pure chemical fat and colors free from lead, otherwise they will make havoc with sensitive skins.

Artificial complexions should never be scrubbed from the face by means of soap and water.

Cocoa butter gently applied on the corner of a soft dry towel will rapidly erase every mark, and is an excellent tonic for the skin.

Grease paints, rouge powder, cocoa butter, spirit gum, sponge-towel, puff, crêpe hair, hare’s foot, patches, tongs, hairpins, joining paste, brush and comb, lip salve, liquid blanc de perle, scissors, mirror, mustache, vanquisher, needles, cotton, soap, sponge, &c., can be purchased in compact make-up cases at prices from $15.00 down to $2.50.

Amateurs are sometimes prone to stiffness and artificiality of gesture and exaggeration of expression, also to too much or too little movement. A perfectly natural manner can only be gained by throwing oneself whole-heartedly into the play, and uniting oneself with the other dramatis personæ. Acting editions of both playlets mentioned above may be obtained of Messrs. Samuel French, of 28 West 38th St., New York.

Each actor has, as it were, his little orbit of movement, but this should not be circumscribed in a conventional, studied manner. Ease and self-control should cover all mastered technique in voice, attitude, and gesture. Words should be clearly delivered, and pronounced without any pedantic phrasing or forced utterance; and this will only be achieved by constant and careful rehearsing. The personality of each character must be distinct and individual.

When an amateur company is formed, each member should pay a fee in proportion to the strength of the casts and the drama they hope to produce. The stage-manager’s choice of characters should stand inviolable, providing, of course, he presents sufficient discretion and insight to distinguish between the different trends of talent possessed by his players.

In almost every company there are a few players who are inclined to fancy that they can do justice to a rôle given to some one else, rather than to the one they are studying. This is a form of very human discontent which Quince, the stage-manager of the players in “A Midsummer Night’s Dream,” had to battle against.

Flute bemoaned his fate, and excused himself from playing the woman’s part, on the plea, “I have a beard coming.”

Bottom was torn between a desire to undertake Thisby and the lion. “I will roar that I will make the duke say, ‘Let him roar again, let him roar again.’ ... I will roar you as gently as any sucking dove.”

As adamantine as the sagacious Quince against these eloquent appeals must be the modern stage-manager when the would-be tragedian importunes him to play the heavy rôle, or the individual who believes himself endowed with hidden genius, to portray the part of light comedian.

Thus only is success achieved.

CHAPTER II
MYSTERIES OF MAKE-UP

The Foundation

It is necessary that the amateur who wishes to make his efforts at private theatricals a success should have a fair knowledge of the art of “make-up.”

While no great amount of money need be expended, at the same time the best results can be obtained only from the use of good cosmetics. Grease paints, obtainable from any purveyors of theatrical appliances, are excellent and not very expensive.

There is no doubt that many people consider it quite sufficient to dab a little paint on the face, smear it over carelessly with the addition of some powder, and imagine, quite erroneously, that they are well made-up.

The outward signs of character are to be represented by “make-up,” and it is quite essential that this effect should be produced; therefore, with a slight knowledge of what is to be avoided, and what effected, the home-actor should attain to some degree of success.

“Wig-paste,” No. 2¹⁄₂, is usually considered the best foundation for pink complexions, and according to shade required, deeper colors can be used, such as 3, 4, &c. Thus, if being made up for the part of a pretty young girl, the first number is best; if for a middle-aged woman, No. 3; while for elderly men of choleric temperament No. 4 would be more suitable.

It must be borne in mind that the foundation of wig-paste should be carefully put on, and well smoothed before the structure or blending of colors to produce a natural appearance is commenced. Whether this is done well or badly will make all the difference to the final results.

Lining

Lining is an important part of “make-up,” by its aid the lines of the face being diminished or deepened, shadows created for sunken effects, and “high lights” produced—i.e. touching up the cheek-bones to give them prominence. By careful use of this latter branch of “make-up” the whole character of the face can be changed. High lights are produced by a lighter shade of grease paint than that used for the rest of the complexion, being placed upon the feature to be emphasized; for instance, if the actor wishes his nose to appear thinner, he will draw a straight white line from the top to the tip, enhancing the effect with a careful application of the gray paint (Fig. 1a). The cheek-bone, nose, chin, and brow are parts of the face which are made up for high lights, though if wrinkles are to be accentuated this is usually done by the addition of a “high light” effect on each side of the existing dark line (Figs. 1b and 1c).

To make cheeks appear hollow, gray-lining paint is used, the effect of emaciation being produced by the careful blending of the last-named paint with the grease paint previously put on.

Shadows, or low lights, give the effect of hollowed cheeks and sunken eyes, and instead of making features more pronounced, as is the case with a careful “high light” make-up, decrease the prominence which certain parts usually possess (Fig. 2). When making-up for a beldame, or some other character which should appear more than usually haggard, a striking effect is obtained by adding a spot of either dark-gray or brown, and blending it outwards.

The lining of the eyes requires special attention, more particularly as their appearance depends so much upon the change of the eyelids (Figs. 3 and 4); eyelashes too, when properly treated, make a vast difference to the usual expression.

When it is necessary that the eyelashes should be more pronounced, black grease paint is put on to the end of an artist’s stump, melted very slowly by being held over a candle or other flame, and so applied. Care should be taken, however, that no grease paint goes into the eye, so when melting it must not be allowed to become too soft. Black-lining grease paint is the best for eyelashes, and the amount applied depends entirely upon their natural thickness and darkness.

For darkening or lightening the eyebrows, grease paint “liners” are indispensable, and much preferable to India ink. Sometimes it is necessary to obliterate part of the eyebrow before the rest is “drawn-in,” in which case it is first of all coated with soap and then covered with the same grease paint as used for the groundwork of “make-up.” This done carefully, and toned to the same shade as the rest of face, leaves the actor free to “draw-in” any shaped eyebrow he desires. For a very thin eyebrow a toothpick can be utilized to advantage, a little melted grease paint being rubbed upon it, and the line drawn with it (Figs. 5 and 6).

For Oriental effects the obliteration of the eyebrows is essential, and fresh ones with an upward tendency can be drawn-in at will, when once the natural ones have been made to disappear.

More often than not it is necessary to increase the eyebrows, making them look thick and heavy, and if Nature has endowed the player with massive ones, it is an easy matter to comb them up the wrong way and apply a small quantity of grease-paint; but if they are naturally thin the aid of false ones must be sought. Crêpe hair, which is an indispensable accessory to the “make-up” art, can here be brought into use, the ever-helpful “adhesia” being required as well.

The best plan is to model on a comb the eyebrow according to the shape desired; then, placing the latter in position, make it fast with the use of the adhesia, taking care that the gum is only on the edges and not on the hair of the real eyebrow.

To obtain a sinister expression, eliminate the outer edges of the eyebrows and paste a piece of crêpe hair over the eyebrows near the nose, the Mephistophelian effect being gained in the same way, except that the outer corners should curl upwards (Figs. 7 and 8). By fixing on pieces of crêpe hair so that they meet over the nose, a stern and even fierce expression is produced.

“Juvenile” Make-up

In making-up for the character of a juvenile, the strength of light on the platform or stage is to be taken into consideration. If a fairly strong light, the make-up must not be too deep, but the player will soon become experienced in this matter by taking the trouble to consider the effect of different lights.

Before commencing with the grease paints the face is well rubbed with cold cream or cocoa butter, and wiped with a towel, so that none of the former remains visible.

The flesh-colored paint may now be drawn across the face several times, the method of procedure being: two lines across forehead, two on each cheek, one down the nose, and several on the neck (Fig. 9). With the palms of the hands this is smoothed over carefully, and finally rubbed quite lightly with a dry towel. The foundation is thus formed, and is really the most important part of the make-up, for if not carefully done the rest will be unsatisfactory. One of the chief facts to be borne in mind is that very little paint should be used, so little as to be scarcely seen.

Rouge is next applied, red-lining paint or paste lip-rouge being used upon the cheek-bones, and carefully smoothed until it tones with the flesh on the cheeks. After an application of powder, when the face feels perfectly smooth, comes the task of lining-in, which has already been described.

The lip-rouge accentuates the lips (Figs. 10 and 11), and should it be necessary to make them of a more symmetrical appearance, this may be accomplished by extending the rouge a trifle beyond the natural outlines, though women need this little extra touch more often than men. When it is required to make the chin more prominent, a touch of dry rouge beneath the lower lip will accomplish the effect, still more being added to the cheeks if they are not quite colored enough (Fig. 12).

For juvenile darky parts, burnt cork will do instead of the grease paints.

“Middle-Age” Make-up

This is perhaps the most difficult make-up, for it is much easier to go to one extreme from another, than to make a fairly young person look like a middle-aged one (Fig. 13).

In the case of a man it is advisable to depend on the addition of whiskers and mustache, and even glasses or spectacles lend age.

A sallow paint is usually required for middle-age make-up, and it can be blended with a lighter paint for pale effects; but to produce a hearty bloom or florid complexion, the application of a little red or brown is recommended.

The mid-gray wig is also an immense aid, but failing this, a small amount of powder sifted over the hair will give a similar effect.

“Old-Age” Make-up

If the character desired to be represented is carefully studied, notice being taken of where there is a high light and where the shadows of the face lie, there should be little or no difficulty in producing a lifelike representation.

Particular notice should be taken of wrinkles and lines, and these must be carefully blended as in Fig. 14.

The next essential is the wig, either gray or white being the most useful. For the old age complexion it is better to get the grease paint for that purpose; but when the necessity for it is but seldom, an application of the sallow paint, or in the case of great emaciation, the addition of a little blue, well blended, will create quite a good effect.

Sometimes it is required that the nose shall be made larger; then the “nose putty” is called into play, carefully modeled on to the nose, and with the aid of the same grease paint as is utilized for complexion, made to correspond with the rest of the face (Figs. 15a, 15b, and 15c).

Dark shadows under the eyes can be produced by gray grease paint, but for the formation of crow’s-feet, the brown will be found the best.

The hands must receive careful attention when the face and neck are finished, and “made-up” according to character. If juvenile, they require coloring; if middle-age, a little of the sallow paint: the veins accentuated, and the flesh made to look pale for old age parts (Fig. 16).

When measuring for a wig, take the various lengths and widths as indicated by the numerals in Fig. 17.

Beards and Mustaches

The most inexpensive of these necessary adjuncts to the home entertainer’s make-up are undoubtedly those he models for himself from crêpe hair, which can be bought in a plait and untwined as it is wanted, a coarse-toothed comb being passed through it. With a few twirls it can be made the desired shape and cut, and when wanted for a beard, opened out until it has a hollow cone-shape appearance, and placed on the chin after a thin coating of adhesia has been applied.

The same method applies to eyebrow and mustache making. When it is desired to create an unshaven, unkempt effect, pieces of crêpe hair are cut up exceedingly fine on to a newspaper, the chin covered with adhesia and the finely-cut hair sifted evenly over the skin. These little pieces are also useful for sprinkling where the false beard meets the face, in order to take away the “abrupt” appearance that is often produced.

The Removal of Make-up

Having told how to put on make-up, a few instructions for its easy removal may not be out of place. Whilst soap and water will take off the grease paint, the simpler method is to remove it with one of the following: Cold cream, cocoa butter, or olive oil. Vaseline is to be avoided, as it will often cause a growth of hair; and for this reason when purchasing cold cream it is advisable to procure the best, for in the cheaper makes vaseline is largely employed. Pieces of cloth kept specially for the removal of “make-up” are to be recommended, one for taking the chief layer off and another of soft texture for final rubbing before the much-needed wash is resorted to.

For dispelling traces of the prepared burnt cork used for minstrels and negro burlesques, a pure vegetable soap is all that is required.

CHAPTER III
THE QUICK-CHANGE ARTIST

How It’s Done

The machinations of the full-fledged quick-change artist afford the mind of his amazed spectator much speculation and curiosity as to how his marvels of dexterity and transformation are achieved. His velocity would put summer lightning to the blush. His mind and body are as pliable and elastic as his face; his very nature appears to undergo a swift metamorphosis of changes in the adoption of the various manners, idiosyncrasies, attitude, and gait of the character he portrays. Although agile and unerring, he possesses something of the stoic calm of the hedgehog, and is as natural in his art as when partaking of a beefsteak in privacy.

He flashes before the vision on stage or drawing-room platform in dress so immaculate that it would seem to the uninitiated that his toilet is the result of hours of care and deliberation. In the costume of an old-world dandy he struts about, swaying his long-laced sleeves with exquisite grace over his snuff-box, the while he patters his part. A moment after, like a shooting star, he has swung himself through a door, reappearing almost instantaneously by means of another entrance, transformed in wig and attire to a totally different individual in age and character.

Thus he continues playing his many parts so nimbly that one can scarcely believe he has not a bevy of actors hidden in the wings ready to fly through doors and windows as quickly as a cork pops from a bottle.

That his agility is grounded on a studied method, and his versatile acting the result of wheels within wheels, well-oiled, and precise as the mechanism of a clock, is difficult to believe until his secrets of manipulation are revealed.

“How is it done?” whispers the youth, palpitating with aspirations to do likewise. Well, in only one way—that way simplicity itself, when once practice has made it perfect.

I am dealing now with the man who produces a play in which each rôle is played by himself, and will proceed to explain his proceedings from the start, so that the ambitious amateur may, at the next Christmas party or home gathering, try a humble imitation, and gradually achieve glory and greatness in the eyes of his family.

An Inexpensive “Stock in Trade”

Let us study the tools and qualities essential to the quick-change artist. His stock and properties are all inexpensive, save the wigs. It is not advisable to purchase cheap ones, as they soon show the signs of wear; while hair in good condition, and carefully kept, lasts for years.

His wardrobe contains garments of the cheapest material, and here the old clothes-bag of the house, in which articles doomed for a jumble sale are placed, is invaluable. A clever needle and a little ingenious manipulation result in splendid effects.

Every garment is made in one piece, and fastens at the back of the performer by means of clock springs, which may be purchased from any clockmaker (Figs. 1 and 1a). The springs are pliable bands of steel, cut and rounded, according to the size required, and punched with small holes, by means of which they are fixed with stitches to neck, waist, legs and wrists. These springs should be carefully concealed in the hem, with sufficient material over to hide the opening at the back.

There is no time for fastening of buttons, tying of strings, adjusting of pins, or plastering of gum. Even the mustaches used are fixed by means of small silver springs, which adhere to the interior of the nostrils as firmly as the springs of eyeglasses pinch the top of the nose (Fig. 2).

The scenery required is also easily manufactured at home by the amateur carpenter. Thick brown paper, light wooden frames, or, better still, samples of wallpaper, fixed with small brass hinges, will serve excellently as an interior.

Until the student is far advanced in dexterity, it is wisest to limit his production to one environment.

The first thing, of course, is to choose a suitable piece. If you are clever with your pen, you may compose a sketch to please yourself. This is a good plan, for you will be governed in your production by what is most suitable and easy to your limitations. If, however, no suitable idea presents itself to you, go to any good dramatic firm, and spend a morning in looking through plays until you alight on something answering to your purpose.

In choosing a play, avoid an elaborate cast, complicated plot, or speeches. Long monologues are wearisome and monotonous; while, on the other hand, conversations of too rapid a character will be impossible to manage satisfactorily, however skillful your manipulation.

The novice should begin with a curtain raiser, containing two or three persons, and the movement should be brisk and interesting. Having fixed on his play, he studies his scenery.

He must have sufficient entrances and exits. To use only one, so that the audience always knows through which door he is about to appear, spoils the effect of his cunning. It is far more dramatic to burst upon them from a direction least expected, and, to do this successfully, as many doors or windows are necessary, as in a production played by several persons; but these should not be so placed as to be aggressively prominent,—curtains, palms, screens, a sham cupboard or fireplace, by means of which sudden comings and goings lend a thrilling reality to every movement. Fig. 3 depicts a suggested plan.

The different costumes to be used should be numbered in the order required, and this is where a cool-headed and reliable dresser is absolutely essential.

To robe oneself by means of picking up garments and wigs from chair or different pegs is slow work, and leaves the stage empty for too long a time to keep the spectators interested in one’s movements. The swiftest manipulation will be too slow to those awaiting the re-appearance, and, unless the movement is kept jogging, there will be no semblance of reality in the performance.

The Dresser

The dresser plays a part no less important than the artist. Upon leaving the stage the latter immediately wrenches from his person the garment in which he has just appeared. The dresser is close to the exit with costume No. 2 held out widely. The performer walks straight into the clothes, of which the clock springs are widely expanded. In a flash they close round his person. Another dresser adjusts wig, beard, &c., as he passes to his next entrance (Fig. 4), with the result that he appears to answer the remark made by himself in the character No. 1 without any break being perceptible to the audience. Whilst speaking the words in the rôle of No. 2, the dresser is awaiting him at the next exit with No. 3 or No. 1 clothes, (if No. 1 and 2 are having a conversation), which he has swiftly picked up from the floor when discarded.

It is obvious that in order to be of real service the dresser must be as familiar with the words of the play as the performer. It is not enough only to know the cues. He must, by his knowledge, calculate to a hairbreadth how long No. 2 takes to reply, and be prepared upon the instant of exit with the apparel of No. 1.

A plan of modes of entrances and exits should be arranged beforehand between actor and dresser, and never altered. Each sketch must be founded on a different plan, and in each the movements should be so carefully practiced that they become almost a habit. Any chance alteration or mistake leads to bungling and loss of time, for, if No. 1 disappears through the exit fixed upon for No. 2, naturally the dresser will not be there awaiting him, and this mischance will probably throw all the succeeding movements into confusion.

The quick-change artist is employed in a race with time, and, time being swift and fleet of foot, the human competitor cannot possibly afford to loiter or blunder.

In a play or sketch in which several characters are to be impersonated it does not make for speed to have installed as many dressers behind the scenes. One, or at the most, two reliable and experienced assistants are ample. A larger number will only hinder the artist’s and their own movements.

That there is a certain amount of nervous strain about this mode of performance cannot be denied, but, by constant practice and coolness, the artist greatly facilitates the mental effort that accompanies his portrayals.

A sketch should at most be of a half-hour’s duration. The actor needs some knowledge of acting, and must be able to change his voice to the different pitches required. It should range from the high-pitched falsetto of the aggressive female type of uncertain years to the gruff bass of the dogmatic father, while the cooing notes of the immaculate heroine should be carefully cultivated.

The artist must of necessity be clean-shaven, so that he can adapt beard, “mutton chops,” or mustache as required.

Figs. 5 and 6 show completed examples of one-piece transformations. Fig. 7 depicts coat and breeches combined.

Most important of all the quick-change artist must be self-reliant, self-confident, and absolute master of emotions engendered by nervousness, for these lead to loss of memory where words and modes of entrance and exit are concerned. While on the stage his mind must be concentrated on the part he is playing to the exclusion of everything else, his attention as completely focused upon the impersonation as though the other characters were being undertaken by different individuals.

For many of these practical suggestions the writer is indebted to a versatile quick-change artist, who willingly revealed some of the secrets connected with his favorite form of entertainment. He emphasized the fact that success is not achieved by means of numerous wigs and costumes—a performer may possess the most elaborate wardrobe, repertoire, and paraphernalia, and yet sadly fail to move the interest and sympathy of his spectators.

As this artist remarked, the true art lies in facial expression, gesture, attitude, and change of voice. These must be cultivated assiduously before any one-man play is produced, for it is only when the features are plastic as rubber, gesture and attitude the perfection of mimicry, the voice containing every note in the range in which language is expressed, that the steep ladder of success is scaled, and the timid novice becomes transformed into the popular resourceful artist.

CHAPTER IV
CHARACTER IMPERSONATIONS

Talent v. Material Aids

A very popular means of amusing a house-party is the impersonation of various characters. It is an entertainment more suitable to the limits of a drawing-room than tableaux or amateur theatricals, which of necessity entail a certain amount of expense, scenery, lighting, and much labor and anxiety in securing and drilling an efficient cast.

Although it is doubtless true that this art needs some natural talent, skill, and mastery of detail, much can be done by practice and self-reliance.

A clever man in the street amuses a long line of patient theater-goers, his only paraphernalia being a soft, pliable disc of black felt.

The metamorphosis that article undergoes in his hands is a marvel. Dexterously he wields it—a mere twist, and it is the three-cornered biretta of a cardinal. Another, and it shades the villainous glare of a brigand, who appears quite capable of cutting the throats of his audience. A deft touch and a strut, and it tops the head of a swaggering dandy. Next it shades the solemn, ascetic features of the priest. Tipped to a different angle, and the cockney grins with happy-go-lucky impertinence. Thus it is used to represent every grade of society from the highest to the lowest of humanity.

But miraculous as that piece of felt seems, it is really the eyes and gestures of the artist plying it that lend it personality, power, and magic of transformation. In the hands of one ignorant of the tricks, it is a futile and clumsy piece of mechanism.

A man may put a tea-cosy on his head and look absurd; another does the same, and behold!—a living Napoleon stands before us. The greater the artist, the simpler the preparations used, for the skilled representative trusts to eyes, gesture, and figure rather than to the material used.

Elasticity of feature is essential. Without this it is impossible to produce a living likeness. One may possess wigs, beards, eyebrows, sham noses, and skulls of every imaginable shape and size, and yet fail through inability to assume the expression peculiar to the study undertaken.

In rehearsing impersonations a mirror is as good and true a friend as in reciting. Observe how faithfully it reflects every change in the human countenance.

Supposing the character studied to be that of King Lear. First read your Shakespeare and memorize the lines which reach the very crisis of the agony and woe of love of that unfortunate monarch, as when, turning to his ungrateful, malignant daughters, Regan and Goneril, he cries—

Understand the breaking, raging, heart-throbbing beneath them. Repeat them aloud before the glass, with wild, burning eyes and quivering lips, with shaking hands upthrown and tensely up-drawn figure, and by-and-by, if not at once, you will see King Lear peering at you distraught.

When you have thoroughly gripped that image you may crown it with snowy hair, pent brows, and ragged beard—but not till then.

And now, supposing, for a change—for there is nothing like variety—you undertake so utterly different a character as that of his faithful fool. Here no jingling bells and jester’s folly are needed to aid you, for these may be, and frequently are, but the danger signals to discerning eyes of incompetent treatment; you want his shrewd, loyal heart in your breast, his pulse beating in your brain, your finger-tips. His cunning grin must be a wavering crack in a wizened face as you memorize such caustic saws as—

“Thou hast pared thy wit o’ both sides, and left nothing i’ the middle; here comes one o’ the parings.”

This method of memorizing and voicing some sentiment characteristic of the figure presented, is only for private use during rehearsals.

Costume performances are dumb, and, this being the case, it is easy to realize how eloquent and exact the physical contour must be for faithful similitude.

Regard the idea as an object being photographed. When you have gripped it, and, as it were, posed it before the camera of your brain, focus, produce, and develop it on your features, which may well be likened to a film.

Knowledge from Nature

In order to master the idiosyncrasies, mannerisms, eccentricities, and habits of characters, study is essential, and for this reason it is probably best to acquire knowledge, not from imaginary heroes of fiction or drama, but from the fount of Nature.

Popular statesmen, musicians, admirals, soldiers, prelates, scientists, novelists, and famous actors walk our streets to-day, and each possesses some anomaly of expression, feature, speech, gesture, or mannerism which is distinctly his own, and distinguishes him from his kind. Just as no two leaves of a tree or petals of a flower are exact duplicates, so in mankind—no matter how subtle the anomaly—it exists, and must be fathomed and included in the portrait; delicately if it is delicate, proportionately broadly and ostentatiously as it is broad and ostentatious.

For example, there are some persons whose peculiarities are as evasive and subtle as the bouquet of a wine, the bloom of a grape. We feel their influence, we realize them to be the essence of their individuality, and yet we fail to catch and master them; while there are other persons we meet whose eccentricities flare out at us in a moment, and illuminate a character more fully and faithfully than any words.

The pouting lip, the flickering eyelid, the shrug, the drumming on the table with the fingers, the stroking of nose or chin, the revolving of thumbs, the pushing or patting of the hair, are eloquent signs that he who runs may read, and make his own. These may be called ostentatious mannerisms.

The subtle peculiarities are far more difficult to catch and convey faithfully. One man suddenly narrows his eyes and looks introspectively at you, or the mouth clinches unexpectedly over the teeth without any apparent reason. A pulse suddenly quivers into sight at the temples, and is gone again. The expression falls into repose, but that very stillness indicates a perplexing and evasive expression of temperament and individuality that you cannot catch to your own satisfaction. You may note coloring of hair, beard, mustache, &c. You may purchase their exact match, and find the likeness only a shell, because the essence that lends delicate fragrance and character has escaped you, and without it your representation, however flawless in coloring and texture, is as unsatisfactory and unreal as the marble statue to the human face and form.

Fundamental to the successful rendition of character impersonation is the cultivation of dexterity and quickness. The dumb representative must have all his regalia of wigs, beards, eyebrows, hats, helmets, cloaks, &c., well arranged, and within easy reach.

In a sense he is a conjuror—a magician. His movements must be swift as lightning. Indecision creates a jar; a pause or bungling spells failure. A small velvet-draped stand or table placed behind him, and within easy reach, with each article ready in the order wished, is essential. In the center of this should be a mirror, with a good electric light over it, but shaded as much as possible from the audience (Fig. 1).