Fig. 1.—Character impersonator’s stage table.
The stand must be draped in dark colors, so as to obtrude as little as possible on the audience. While in preparation, all other lights near you should be turned off, and only switched on for a moment or two the instant you are ready. The attitude should be struck in the dark, and this must be sure and swiftly taken, and absolutely in keeping with the character assumed. Avoid grease paints as far as possible.
A pianoforte or small orchestra playing some melody suitable to the impersonation will prove a most valuable adjunct to the imagination of artist and audience.
Avoid such hackneyed characters as Napoleon, the late Sir Henry Irving, the German Emperor, and similar portrayals that may be witnessed any evening at almost any vaudeville hall. An audience is frequently more amused by the imitation of types than of individuals.
Fig. 2.—The costermonger.
Fig. 3.—The lady-killing curate.
The fat saloonkeeper, the costermonger (Fig. 2), the blasé gentleman of fashion, the racetrack bookmaker, the ruddy countryman, the lady-killing curate (Fig. 3), and the typical Soap King (Fig. 4), the country rustic (Fig. 5), and many other such types are excellent studies for representation.
Fig. 4.—The soap king.
Fig. 5.—The country bumpkin.
Although the character portrayals of the costumed and wigged impersonator depend on wordless demonstrations between the items and in ordinary evening dress, the artist may announce the name of the personality to be represented, or have it worked in almanac fashion and shown to the audience as it appears.
The former method, however, is quite usual, and perhaps more suitable to drawing-room entertainments.
It may be kept in mind that this style of performance should not be unduly long, and should never exceed twelve or fifteen minutes.
Speaking Impersonations
Speaking impersonations are more difficult to achieve successfully, for in them, as a rule, the artist has no regalia to depend upon. His hair, his face, his voice, his limbs, his fingers are his only aids, but these are more than sufficient for the talented and skilled performer. His voice is as elastic as his features in power of mimicry.
He should be clean-shaven, but with a plentiful crop of hair, which he can arrange and manipulate as he wishes with a mere twirl or pat of the hand, and these must be sympathetic and convincing expressions of his every movement. “There is no more expression in the back of the hand than in the back of the head,” yet of what subtle demonstrations is it not capable?
A whole epitome of human emotions may be demonstrated by the gradual unfolding of the flexible, sensitive fingers. The first finger raised, and intelligence and meaning begin to develop. The palms upturned, the shoulders uplifted, and the head slightly bent, and you see the suave helplessness typical of the Frenchman.
The arms flung outward, with the palms parallel, and the fingers falling naturally, indicate sentiments of affection, welcome, and cordial invitation. Stretched farther away, with fingers distended, and you have entreaty, desire, passionate pleading, and supplication. The wrists upturned, the fingers crooked, and grasping, and we see the personification of rage and avarice, while the raising of the open hand, what horror it indicates!
Yet the hand is only a part of the mechanism. Its soul is in the eye, which combines in partnership and signifies calm, candor, liberality, love, gentleness, meditation, resentment, boldness, defiance, wrath, and fear, in complete accord with its dumb component.
The nostrils inflate in scorn, the head is proudly raised in dignity or joy, and meekly bowed in humility; bent forward in shame, squarely upright, with firm compressed features, for determination and will power.
The artist must never be tempted to sacrifice his cultured discretion in a portrayal. For instance, to give the cockney the musician’s hand, or the priest the bookmaker’s wink, the sly housebreaker anxious to escape notice the loud, boisterous guffaw of the countryman, is to be guilty of the most insensate blunders.
Action and gesture should be skilled and practiced handmaidens to the brain that molds the idea, and their service must be winged to respond.
As they move easiest who have learnt to dance.”
Temperament
The psychological treatment of characters depends and is influenced in no slight degree by temperament. The character the student is about to study has its peculiar atmosphere of mind and body, which unconsciously dictates and regulates its actions from head to foot. The most important temperaments are:—
1. The optimistic temperament, embracing impulsive, warm-hearted, sanguine, easily-pleased, tender, ambitious dispositions.
2. The pessimistic temperament, embracing nervous, timid, sensitive, overwrought, peevish, unstable, irritable, depressed, neurotic, restless, dissatisfied, cynical, morbid, self-conscious dispositions.
3. The artistic temperament, embracing extravagant, sympathetic, imaginative, languid, reckless, turbulent, excitable, hot-tempered, brooding dispositions.
4. The commercial temperament, which embraces the phlegmatic, lymphatic, enigmatic dispositions.
Now, the first way of approaching a new study is to consider what characteristics it possesses, and to what class of temperament it belongs, and, when this is decided, the student asks himself, what gesture will be the most symbolic and eloquent of that temperament?
This method, conscientiously adhered to, will provide a safe and firm groundwork for the beginner.
With judgment and sense, he will soon be able to place his character in its right niche, and to plan his actions in accordance, even if he has never seriously studied gesture. The movements of an open-hearted, liberal man are usually large, free, and liberal. He opens his arms widely for an embrace. He gives you his hand in greeting warmly, and with frank, cordial pressure. His eyes shine clear and steady below a benevolent forehead. His walk, with its free, steady swing, is the index of his generous and kindly disposition.
Now contrast him with the mean man, the usual type of which is pinched in physical delineation, action, expression, and thought. His hair grows sparsely on a skull, screwed as grimly to his face as the upper section of a bicycle bell to the lower. His eye is squeezed in a narrow slit of socket, roves backwards and forwards like a marble in a puzzle-box. His mouth is withered in bitter antagonism for his fellow-men. To catch a generous smile upon his colorless lips is to surprise a sunbeam at midnight.
Of course, there are many shades in the scale between these extremes of the very liberal man and the very mean one, and the artist who is imitating the thrifty soul must remember the infinitesimal points of difference which distinguish him alike from the benevolent and avaricious.
And, in the wide margin of temperaments, an artist must be careful not to label and pigeon-hole his characters as if they were bottles of physic, for in the complex nature of one man there may be vast contradictions, just as in many good medicines there is a minute quantity of poison, so a disposition may be tinted with qualities not at all worthy of admiration.
There are occasions when the most impulsive becomes cold and hesitating, the most affectionate cruel, the most benevolent calculating, and the most patient, hot-tempered and passionate.
Character and Circumstance
The artist must never forget the important crucible of circumstances which molds and forms each character, and sometimes is potent to change the most optimistic temperament to one of pessimism and cynical bitterness. Yet, while remembering this, one must probe beneath the stamped envelope of environment to decipher the hieroglyphics of the fettered soul inclosed.
One does not find the wild, untutored gestures of the stump orator in the refined politician, nor the turbulent raving of the fanatic in the sermon of the cultured ecclesiastic, while the expression natural to the plebeian is such as the aristocrat never indulges.
There are many natures so complex as to defy all classification, and to portray them successfully is an almost impossible matter unless one masters the delicate mechanism of their nature. A grandfather’s clock to outward appearance is a figured circle in a narrow wooden case, with softly regularly-moving pendulum, but get behind that exterior to the revolving wheels, and see what an amount of intricacies are involved. So the man who presents a calm, self-possessed exterior to the world, may in reality seethe with qualities not at all phlegmatic or level-headed.
In conquering the technicalities of character, one must, as far as possible, grip the crisis the personality has reached in his lifetime, and this is one reason why a historic character is easier to grasp than one contemporaneous. For example, he who portrays Napoleon in the flush of success and victory, does not represent him as he who images him at the end of his career—broken-hearted, alone, and in despair, suffering the calumny and scorn of those who exhibited most faith and admiration of his sanguinary achievements.
Correct attitude and pose are extremely important, and should be carefully studied. The old man has tottering bowed knees, but the youth stands firmly.
The reverberation of the interior gestures rules and gives to the torso or trunk the inspiring grace of truth and beauty. It is only when a soldier or sailor on duty is being represented that the artist may stand bolt upright and move automatically. At all other times the torso should be held with flexible ease, ready to combine with eye, face and gesture, in the emotion and force of the impersonation. To portray the child with mature and abandoned gesture is to present a caricature of nature, and, in like manner, to represent the adult with the careless gestures of the child, is to convey the impression of one inane and undeveloped.
In attitude, remember the maxim of Cresollius: “Without the hand, no eloquence.”
To imagine a boy stealing jam with the wild eye and hand-clawing attitude of the miser snatching at gold is to exaggerate grossly and confuse the human emotions, and to paint comedy as the burlesque of tragedy. The hands are capable of such a vast amount of expression that they have been considered “numerous and copious as words themselves.”
While imitating characters, never be bound by the representations of other artists you have seen. See with your own eyes, study with your own brain, avoid that conventionality of fashion and ideas that cripples progress. Let your maxims be your own, and, when they are mastered, be not ashamed to demonstrate them with grand and self-reliant originality.
CHAPTER V
THE UNIVERSAL HAT
Marvels of Chapeaugraphy
Every entertainer must have felt at some time or other the need of a short “gag” to fill up that awkward gap which so frequently occurs between the conclusion of one long piece and the commencement of another.
The mind of an audience is of a flighty nature and requires to be kept continually amused, or it will wander into paths of boredom; and many a good entertainment has failed for the simple reason that the ball has not been kept rolling.
It is during one of these uncomfortable pauses that the Universal Hat may be appropriately introduced, and, if worked well, it cannot fail to gain approval.
You can either buy or make a Universal Hat, and as to do the former will cost a dollar or more, whilst the latter can be done for less than half that sum, it is well to be your own hat-maker.
Obtain a piece of fairly strong black felt, measuring 24 inches square, and cut it into a ring, the diameter of the whole circle being 24 inches, with a hole in the center 7 inches across. That is all that is required as far as the hat is concerned, and the success of your piece will now rest entirely with yourself.
Arrange a screen behind which to retire, and have a good-sized mirror, so placed that you will be able to see in a moment how your head-dress suits. Keep a little rouge ready, as well as a burnt cork for blacking eyebrows, making mustaches, &c. Remember that quickness is a necessity, for the smarter you are in changing your hats the more the audience will appreciate the effect.
Now to give a few examples of what can be done with the universal hat, so arranged as to give scope for any amount of ingenuity in inventing new ideas.
Before beginning your show step from behind the screen, raise the ring of felt in your hand, and exhibit it to the audience. Then step back under cover, put the hat on your head, giving it a tilt in front and a rakish tip to one side, assume a stern expression, and, if you have a dog-whip amongst the stage properties, grasp it firmly in your hand, and make an appearance before the spectators in the character of Buffalo Bill. Take care always to face the audience as in Fig. 1, otherwise the top of your head will be seen through the hole in the hat.
Fig. 1.—Buffalo Bill.
Remember that in this, as in all the other characters, a lot—indeed, almost everything—depends upon your expression, which should be entirely in keeping with the person you represent. Buffalo Bill must not wear a grin, but must appear as grimly in earnest as though he were hastening to the relief of the Deadwood stage.
Another point to bear in mind, is that you must not make a long appearance. A minute for each character is ample, and, as you appear before your audience, announce who you are in a tone suggestive of the person you are representing. A few remarks in keeping with the character will greatly add to the realism of your make-up, but let your words be like your appearances—brief and effective.
Popular Characters
Napoleon makes a good character to represent, and his hat is very easily made. Draw two sides of the felt through the hole in the center, and pull the hat firmly down about your ears, as in Fig. 2. Assume a stern expression, suggestive of Waterloo, thrust your left hand into your breast, hump your shoulders, and look fiercely at the audience as though you could see Wellington at the farther end of the room.
Later on in the performance you can represent Bonaparte’s great antagonist by making the hat in the same way, but wearing it with the peak forward as in Fig. 3.
Fig. 2.—A hat suggesting Napoleon.
Fig. 3.—The Iron Duke.
General Wolfe is another easy character to assume. His hat is made in this way. Lay the felt ring flat on the table, lift up one side, draw it towards you and then pass it downwards through the hole. Pull back the piece that you have passed through the hole, in the direction from which you took it in the first place, and you will find it has made a hat of the shape shown in Fig. 4. When you fit it on your head pull it firmly down towards your ears, but not too tightly, and the effect will be complete. A little practice will serve to perfect you in making the twists necessary for this and other hats, and patience will soon reward you. To heighten the resemblance to General Wolfe, whiten your cheeks with a little chalk and draw them slightly in, to give the appearance of being haggard and wan. If you can get a sword, point to the ceiling with it enthusiastically, as one can imagine the General did when he encouraged his men to climb the Heights of Abraham.
As a contrast to these more exalted personages, you can now appear as the coal driver; although if you wish to increase the realism by smearing your face into a state of suitable dirtiness with burnt cork, it would be advisable to leave this character to the last. To make the hat, lay your felt flat as before and draw up a piece from the rim as was done in the case of General Wolfe. Now, instead of passing it completely through the hole, push it only halfway through, giving it what may be called a half twist. It will then appear as in Fig. 5, ready for wear. Draw it tightly over your head, and slouch upon the scene, putting your hand to your mouth and shrieking “Coal O!” in a cracked voice.
Fig. 4.—General Wolfe.
Fig. 5.—The Coal Driver.
Fig. 6.—A Priest’s Biretta.
Fig. 6a.—A Priest.
You may now appear as a priest in a biretta. Place the felt upon the table and then draw a side from below, up through the hole, exactly the reverse way from that in which Wolfe’s hat was made. When you have drawn it right through, bend it down and pass it up through the hole once more, thus making two twists. It then resembles Fig. 6, and if you draw it upon your head with the broad brim flush against the forehead, the impersonation will be striking. Tuck a little lapel of white into the collar, raise your right hand with two fingers extended, and face the company with as pious an expression as you can assume.
Fig. 7.—The Pied Piper.
As a last example, an effective appearance may be made as the famous Pied Piper of Hamelin. Having laid the felt flat, make a twist from below upwards, as you did in the former hat—the priest’s biretta. But for this hat only one twist is required, so when you have done this, the hat will appear as in Fig. 7. You must now put your hands in the opening and stretch it as wide as possible, thus making the rolls very taut and firm. Turn the felt over and fit it on the head as shown in the picture. Draw your collar up, take a tin whistle in your hand, and pipe a few notes before making your appearance. Then slink into view with a cunning smile upon your lips, reciting these lines from the poem:—
By means of a secret charm to draw
All creatures living beneath the sun,
That creep or swim, or fly or run,
After me so as you never saw!
And I chiefly use my charm
On creatures that do people harm,
The mole, the toad and newt and viper;
And people call me the Pied Piper.”
Of course these are but hints. An ingenious person will soon discover endless other ways of adapting the Universal Hat in such a manner as to keep the audience amused for some considerable time. Always remember, however, these two axioms—
Let your appearances be short.
CHAPTER VI
NIGGER MINSTRELSY
The Comical End-men
Some people imagine that a black face, a pair of large check trousers and a rather dilapidated hat, are all that’s necessary to make a nigger minstrel. This is, however, a great mistake, and whosoever feels the stirring of an ambition to amuse his friends with a nigger entertainment, must not be discouraged if he finds the road harder than he expected. Its difficulties, however, are far from insurmountable.
Fig. 1.—Seating arrangements of nigger minstrel troupe.
For a really successful nigger entertainment seven persons are necessary; the interlocutor—usually known as Mr. Johnson—one bass and one tenor singer and four “end-men.” The troupe should be arranged as shown in Fig. 1. Now, before describing what to do, a few words as to how you should arrange yourselves will not be out of place. The stage should be raised, if possible, to enable any member of the audience to see the performers. Unless you are performing a farce or drama, such as will be described later, a curtain is not absolutely necessary, provided the troupe can get to the stage without having to pass right through the assembled company.
Minstrels’ “Make-up”
As far as “make-up” is concerned, this should present no difficulty whatever. Many barbers, and some music shops, can supply “nigger black,” which must be rubbed into the face and hands, after the skin has been well washed and dried. When the performance is over the black can easily be removed by means of soap and hot water. To redden the lips and enlarge the mouth, use carmine or rouge; cover the lips and paint them to appear as though stretching almost from ear to ear (Fig. 2). Cheap wigs can be obtained for but a small sum from any hairdresser. Those of Mr. Johnson and the sentimentalists should be as shown in Fig. 3, while each of the “end-men” should provide himself with one similar to that depicted in Fig. 4. The “interlocutor” and sentimentalists usually wear ordinary evening dress, the “end-men,” however, wearing frilled collars, cuffs and fronts, as shown in Fig. 5. A complete outfit comprising stockinette face, head, eyes, teeth, and hat can be purchased for about $2.50.
Fig. 2.—Showing how the lips are painted.
Fig. 3.—Interlocutor and sentimentalist’s wig.
Fig. 4.—End-man’s wig, showing workable tuft.
Music is a necessity with a troupe, and you will accordingly require another person to play the piano as an accompaniment to the songs and choruses, as well as for the overture and instrumental pieces. It is also presumed that the members of the troupe have fairly good voices and are able to sing, not only in tune but in time with one another.
In serious or sentimental songs, such as “Swanee River” and other favorites, the “end-men” must forego their love of mirth and take part in all solemnity, reserving their facetious behavior for a more timely moment. After these remarks the principal characters in the troupe may be discussed.
Fig. 5.—Frilled collar, shirt front, and cuffs used by end-man.
The interlocutor is one of the most important persons upon the stage. It is his duty to introduce each number of the programme to the audience; to be the butt of the “end-men’s” jokes; and to assume upon every occasion an air of the utmost ignorance and simplicity, that shall prove an admirable foil to the exuberant humor of his companions. He must appear absolutely innocent of any idea of the answers to the riddles and conundrums asked, and must reply to the occasionally personal remarks of his friends with the utmost suavity and good humor. In short, what with helping the others to sing and keeping the ball rolling generally, Mr. Johnson is responsible, to a large extent, for the success or failure of the entertainment.
From Failure to Success
The “end-men,” with whom lies the task of producing most of the fun of the nigger entertainment, must be possessed of a ready wit—able to tide over awkward pauses, prepared with some “gag” when the fun is beginning to flag, and capable of turning disaster into a mighty success. From Mr. Johnson’s placid obtuseness they will be able to draw much sport, and bandying jokes at each other’s and the interlocutor’s expense, should keep the audience shaking with laughter.
Whilst on the subject of jokes a note of warning may be struck. The moment humor changes to vulgarity, it produces disgust in any respectable audience. It is therefore well worth while to think over the regular jokes you intend introducing into the performance, and if there be any that are in the remotest way likely to offend the feelings of any person in the company, cut them out.
There is another point worth remembering in the matter of jokes. It may seem a truism to remark that a joke should be funny, yet the very funniest of jokes will fall flat if it is not led up to suitably. Don’t ask Mr. Johnson a conundrum in a meek tone as though you were requesting him to tell you the time. His immovably suave ignorance will extract the answer from you, it is true, but the chances are ten to one that the audience have either missed the question or will fail to see the point of the answer.
Jokes should be introduced by a certain amount of patter which serves to engage the attention of the hearers in such a way that when the inevitable fun really comes they are perfectly prepared to appreciate it. Books can be bought containing numbers of these jokes with the suitable patter, and these will prove very useful to the amateur, who must nevertheless remember that success really depends upon the way in which he springs the joke upon the audience.
Coon Songs
And now a word about the singing. It goes without saying that the larger the troupe and the better trained the voices, so much the more enjoyable will be the choruses. The number of songs from which to select is legion; the best plan is to write to some leading musical publisher, telling him what you want. He will be only too pleased to send his catalogue with some advice as to what will prove suitable. Avoid any comic songs with a double or doubtful meaning, and keep to strictly characteristic songs as far as possible. Old favorites never fail to win applause, and are always safe to fall back upon; but do not be too conservative—try some novelties.
Songs and “Gags”
Nigger entertainments are usually divided into two parts, the first consisting of songs and “gags,” as the short dialogues and impromptu jokes are called, whilst the second is devoted to stump speeches and one-act dramas or farces. So far as stump speeches are concerned, excellent collections are published by the leading publishers of that class of entertainment. Your bookseller will obtain a catalogue for you, and a choice can then be made. The speeches should be very carefully learnt by heart, together with the appropriate gestures (for which full instructions are always given), and unceasingly practiced until you are able to make your stump oratory bring down the house with delight. Stump speeches are the province of the “end-men,” and properly delivered, can be relied upon to prove one of the successes of the evening.
One-Act Dramas
With regard to one-act dramas and farces, a very exhaustive catalogue can be furnished by publishers, with full instructions as to how they should be performed. A word of advice, however, to the intending actors. Too much care cannot be expended upon preparation and rehearsals. Nothing will go of itself in this world, and least of all plays and sketches; it is a fatal mistake to imagine that the smallest drama or even “gag” will succeed by its own merits and with only a little help from yourself. Endless trouble and care must be taken in preparing the simplest joke, and boisterous as the fun may prove upon the stage, it cannot be spontaneous, but must be diligently rehearsed again and again before it can be presented to your audience.
Your great object is, not to enjoy the fun yourself but to make the others enjoy it, and if this is borne in mind, you will not only amuse them but have a delightful time yourself. Again, never forget that in a play one actor relies upon another to repeat the actual words of the “book,” as cues and stage directions depend upon verbal accuracy. Do not, therefore, introduce any novelties of your own—learn the words and keep to them, for any original introductions on your part may throw the whole play into disorder, exasperate the other actors and disgust the audience.
To keep to the “book” is easy enough, and if you act in earnest—and this is essential for the most comic pieces—you will find no difficulty in sustaining your part correctly and intelligently. Do not laugh at your own jokes, unless you are instructed to do so, but keep a grave face and appear as though to find yourself in the most farcical situations were a matter of everyday life.
To give an idea of a reasonably simple programme which shall include a farce, the following is suggested:—
PART I
Overture on the piano. A march.
Chorus. Some song in which all voices can join.
Solo. Preferably a sentimental song.
Jokes. Properly led up to by an end-man.
Comic Song. Also by an end-man.
Solo. Another sentimental song. And so on for ten or eleven turns, after which comes the
Interval. During this the pianist can entertain the audience with some operatic piece.
PART II
Chorus. As above.
Piano Solo. Whilst this is being played the stage should be prepared for the
Stump Speech.
Curtain and Piano Solo. During which the stage is arranged for the
Farce.
Solo. Sentimental song.
Finale.
This programme must, of course, be adapted to any exigencies of time, space or other circumstances, but will serve as an example of what can be done.
To conclude with a few hints as to the actual entertainment. If possible, have a sufficient number of programmes printed, or carefully and legibly written by hand, as the most tolerant audience grows restive if it does not know “what comes next.” Distribute these, and let one of your party make it his business to see that the company are properly and comfortably seated. Begin punctually; if your audience have to wait they become impatient, and as there are few people more incapable of seeing a joke than impatient folk, it will be to your own advantage to begin at the proper time. Be as silent as possible behind the scenes; it is very tantalizing for the spectators to hear a wild rushing hither and thither, hoarse whispering, and the various signs of excitement in which they are not allowed to participate.
Of course a certain amount of bustle is unavoidable, but reduce it to a silent minimum. Do not be shy; remember in the first place that the black hides all your blushes, and in the second place that nobody is there to see you, but to see a “nigger” who is going to make them laugh. Half of your audience have probably done the same in their time, whilst the other half would have done so if they could; so take heart, and show them all how really well it can be done. However well-disposed your company may be, do not let that be any excuse for slovenliness on your part, but let it rather incite you to work all the harder, so that when everything is finished and the black is off your faces, the universal opinion will be—“We would never have imagined that it could be carried out so well!”
CHAPTER VII
SOME SUGGESTIONS IN BLACK
For “Nigger Minstrels”
In the previous chapter hints have been given to enable a party of five or more performers to give a Nigger Minstrel Entertainment. The object of the following is to show how one or two people can contrive to amuse their friends with a few negro performances.
The pieces are suitable either as items in a variety entertainment, or as convenient “gags” to be introduced between longer entertainments when the interest of the audience is to be sustained by some timely diversion.
It might be remarked, by the way, that it is surprising how much the effect of a joke depends upon the humor of the audience. If they are feeling in a happy and pleasant frame of mind, the mere sight of a comic man is sufficient to bring forth roars and shrieks of laughter. But if a gloom or lack of interest has settled over the company, even the comic genius of the late Dan Leno would most probably have failed to raise a smile.
There are two things almost invariably associated with nigger songs—a banjo and bones. Proficiency with both these is necessary before attempting to give an entertainment.
Practice and a quick ear are indispensable for playing or even strumming a banjo. A very little practice will enable you to strike chords with ease, whilst a quick ear will show when they should be played.
To make a successful “hit” with the “bones” is a question, more or less, of knack.
A set of four bones costs about $1.00. When buying take care they are sound, i.e. with no crack or flaw, and that they contain no core of pith, as this is liable to dull the sound, rendering it quite impossible to obtain the sharp clean click so necessary for successful rendition.
Having obtained your bones—a pair for each hand—you must know how they should be held. Notice they are slightly curved, as in Fig. 1. With a pair in each hand place the ends between the first and second and second and third fingers, the convex sides towards each other (Fig. 2). Hold No. 1 (the bone between the first and second fingers) fairly firmly, although not so stiffly as to rob it of a distinct spring. No. 2 (the bone between the second and third fingers) must be rapped up against its companion by the action of the third and fourth fingers.
Fig. 1.—Curved bone used in nigger minstrelsy.
A sharp shake of the hand will make the bones clap together, while if you keep the hand quivering and also work bone No. 2 vigorously a continuous rattle is produced.
Fig. 2.—How to hold the bones.
Fig. 3.—Correct position for playing the bones.
A good plan, when once you are accustomed to having the bones between the fingers, is to hold the hand with the knuckles upwards, the bones pointing to the ground, as in Fig. 3. By this means the fingers are allowed freer play. At the same time a better appearance is given to the exhibition.
At first you will find your rattles jerky and spasmodic, but do not be content until you have the bones so entirely under command that you can make a long rattle as easily as a solitary tap, remembering that the less exertion you betray the better will be the effect.
Your own ear will show you how to introduce them into the music. Do not drown the air—the bones are only intended to give a point, to accentuate certain parts and not to render them inaudible. A smart rattle may be given at the commencement of the music and at the conclusion of the song.
Introducing Jokes
All jokes should be introduced by a certain amount of conversational patter between the Interlocutor and “Bones.”
Mr. Johnson, the interlocutor, is always a very simple-minded person, unable to see any joke until it has been fairly thrown at him, and perfectly innocent in the presence of the most obnoxious puns. He has a certain patronizing air with his companion which only serves to make his innate simplicity more delightful. Mr. Johnson maintains an impassive face in the most ludicrous and trying situations by his very matter-of-fact behavior, extracting all kinds of smart things from the funny man.
“Bones” is the very reverse of Mr. Johnson. He is up to all the latest catches, full of quips and puns, is possessed of a never-failing store of quaint experiences and remarkable stories, the most improbable of which are gravely swallowed by Johnson. Yet the big red lips on his broad black face must be immovable and never show the least symptom of a smile as he recounts with stolid solemnity his marvelous doings to his credulous friend.
The following dialogue is arranged for these two characters. Mr. Johnson asks Bones all kinds of simple and apparently harmless questions; but Mr. Bones replies with a constant succession of puns and jokes:—
Johnson. So you’ve been enjoying yourself, William, lately, I understand. Dining out a good deal?
Bones. Oh yes, that’s right. I’d dine with anybody.
Johnson. Yes, but I’m told you dined with the Mayor last week. Is that right?
Bones. Oh yes, that’s right.
Johnson. Then I suppose you had an excellent dinner—plenty to eat and drink. What was the menu?
Bones. Well, to tell you the truth, there was a lot of ’em there, but I don’t recollect him.
Johnson. Ah, you don’t understand me. I mean what was the bill of fare?
Bones. Oh, well, it was a pretty fair bill. I believe it cost him about $300.
Johnson. No, you don’t understand me. I mean what dishes did you have to eat?
Bones. Well, we didn’t eat any dishes.
Johnson. No, no, of course not; but what did you have to eat and drink?
Bones. Well, I believe the first thing we had to eat was something to drink.
Johnson. And what did you have to drink, then?
Bones. Well, it was a new soup.
Johnson. A new soup! Well, I should like to know what that was. What was it called?
Bones. Oh, I don’t remember exactly what it was, but you might mention the names of a few to help me.
Johnson. Well, was it Mullagatawny?
Bones. No, it wasn’t Multigatony.
Johnson. Was it Mock Turtle?
Bones. No, it wasn’t him.
Johnson. Was it gravy?
Bones. No.
Johnson. Was it spring?
Bones. No, it wasn’t spring, it was summer.
Johnson. Well, I must give it up, William. What was it?
Bones. Oh, I know, it was what they call—er—er—shadow soup.
Johnson. Oh, then, it must be a new soup. I’ve never heard of shadow soup.
Bones. Never heard of shadow soup?
Johnson. No, I haven’t. I should like to taste that. How is it made?
Bones. I’ll tell you. You go down to the market, buy a nice chicken, take it home, stretch a line across the yard, hang the chicken in the middle of the line, put a nice clean pail of water under the chicken, and when the sun comes out it casts its beautiful rays on the chicken, reflects the shadow in the pail of water, and that’s what they call shadow soup.
Johnson. Oh, you go down to the market, buy a nice chicken, take it home, stretch a line across the yard, hang the chicken in the middle of the line, put a nice clean pail of water under the chicken, and when the sun comes out it casts its beautiful rays on the chicken and reflects the shadow in the water, and that’s what they call shadow soup.
Bones. Yes.
Johnson. But, my dear sir, you’ve forgotten one of the principal things.
Bones. Oh, have I? What’s that?
Johnson. What’s that? Why, supposing you have no sun?
Bones. Well, then—you have no soup.
Stump Speeches
A little extra effort in the matter of make-up might be attempted for stump speeches, for the orator should be as “seedy” as possible in the way of costume. A tattered coat and battered hat are usually considered essential to the character, whilst an old dilapidated umbrella, of bulky form and shapeless proportions, is useful for brandishing at the emotional parts or thumping as the impressive points in the speech are reached.
The stump orator should deliver his speech mounted upon a rickety chair or table, for his exaggerated endeavors to maintain his balance will be certain to cause fun amongst the audience.
Having taken his position with much danger, and with a familiar look at the spectators, the speaker may embark upon the lecture. He should speak distinctly and slowly, pausing every now and again to illustrate his remarks with some quip or to steady himself upon the very rocky pulpit.
As an example he may take the following, which will serve for the opening sentences of a stump speech on “Sound”:—
Ladies and Gentlemen, and others. I have much, I have much (puts hand in pocket as if to feel how much money he has), I say I have much—much feeling of proudness in assembling here in large numbers before you—me—you here dis even. The subject of my investigation has been for many long years, that is to say early years, short years, new years, old years, pig’s and donkey’s ears, and the rest of the human race. I say the subject of my intellectual and not at all less pig’s-head-a-frying lecture on the various means of communicating our thoughts, words, title-deeds, and other chattels, such as sauce-pans, frying-pans, umbrellas, knobbed sticks, brick-bats and bricks without bats, I say the subject of this important question, whether it be the pop-shopular question or whether it be unwise to mention, or otherwise in dimension, let it be understood that previous to preparing myself to begin—to commence, I must ask a few questions about the temperaments, detriments out-o-debtriments, cape-abilities, cloak-abilities, hats, caps, boots, shoes, underlinen, socks, and other kind of earthenware. I say before I, as I said before I said “I say before”—this subject can be clothes-properly dissolved, we will, although I say it myself, ladies and gentlemen, I say we shall, ladies, we shall all be dead men. (Takes pinch of snuff, wipes nose with wet part of handkerchief, wiping off some black. Resumes dialogue.)
Music for Minstrelsy
Taking it for granted that the would-be minstrels have reasonably good voices, the only difficulty will be “selection.” Of course a great deal of tact is required to know what class of music is best suited to the audience.
Have as much variety as possible. Do not confine yourself exclusively to comic songs or to sentimental ditties alone. At all costs keep your audience cheerful and amused. Too much humor is apt to nauseate, but too much melancholy will certainly spell failure. Try to gauge the temper of your company, and if they seem to prefer the serious to the comic parts on your programme, or vice versâ, make as quick and effective an alteration as you can. They must be made to appreciate you—not simply to tolerate you.
To have a piano accompaniment is a distinct acquisition if the voices be of doubtful merit. For accomplished singers a banjo is quite sufficient, but the amateur will certainly find that a friend at the piano is very handy and reliable. This is, of course, entirely a matter of individual taste and circumstances.
A very good selection of nigger dialogues, speeches, &c., can be obtained from any theatrical publisher. The entertainer will be furnished with useful ideas for a programme, including some of the most successful minstrels’ songs and drolleries.
As the Stump Orator would say, “We must now draw a delusion to our not over long lecture,” feeling confident that the amateur nigger will find his entertainment as great a source of pleasure to himself as of amusement to the audience.
CHAPTER VIII
TABLEAUX VIVANTS
True-to-Life Representations
Tableaux may be divided into two important classes—the portrayal of abstract qualities, which usually includes motionless figures posed in sustained attitudes, and historic and romantic groups, in which the actor is allowed some occupation.