The illusion which we are about to describe is employed in the “Peau d’Ane” for producing the fairy robes in the story—the color of the sun, the color of the moon, and the color of the sky—required by the play. In the midst of a brilliantly illuminated procession come two porters carrying a large chest by means of handles at the end. Having reached the royal throne they place the chest on the floor and raise the cover. There is immediately seen a fabric the color of the sun, a luminous golden yellow. Afterwards two other porters come with a similar chest, which, when opened, exhibits a bluish-white phosphorescent fabric. The third chest contains a robe of a celestial blue. This robe is also luminous. The fabrics are moved by the porters to make them sparkle. The secret of the illusion is that the bottom of each of these chests is capable of being opened over a trap, and by means of an electric lamp the electric light is directed upon a light and transparent fabric so that it really seems to be on fire. A yellow light suffuses the fabric of the same color and incorporates itself with it. After the cover has been shut down upon the stage, the bottom is closed from beneath, the light is extinguished, the trap is shut up, and the chest is carried away by the porters. The same is done with a slightly bluish-white fabric and a white light, for the moon-colored fabric; and then with blue tarleton and a light with a bluish tinge for the sky-colored fabric.

An opera or ballet which requires a ship taxes the powers of the stage machinist and the property master to the utmost. The ship which we illustrate was made for the ballet called the “Tempest,” at the Paris Opera House, and is superior to most of the ships in the “Corsair” and “L’Africaine.” The vessel, starting from the back of the stage, advances majestically, making a graceful curve, and stops in front of the prompter’s box. Our illustrations give detailed views of the vessel and the setting of the scenery. The sea is represented by four parallel set rows, the location of which is indicated in our second engraving.

The ship is carried by wheels that roll over the floor of the stage, and is guided in its motion by two grooved bronze wheels, and by a rail formed of a simple reversed T-iron which is bolted to the floor. As the ship advances, the set water rows open in the center to allow it to pass. As the vessel itself is covered up to the water line with painted canvas imitating the sea, it has the appearance of cleaving the wave. When the vessel reaches the first of the water rows the others spread out and increase the extent of the sea. The three strips of water in the rear rise slightly. The shifting of the inclined piece at the front is effected by simply pulling up the carpet which covers it, and which enters the groove in the floor in front of the prompter’s box. At this moment the entire stage seems to be in motion, and the effect is very striking.

We now come to the details of the construction of the ship. Our engraving shows the boat while it was being built. The visible hull of the ship was placed upon a large and very strong wooden framework formed of twenty-six trusses. In the center there are two longitudinal trusses about three feet in height and twenty-five feet in length, upon which are assembled perpendicularly seven other trusses. In the interior there are six transverse pieces held by stirrup bolts, and at the end of each of these is fixed a thirteen-inch iron wheel. The entire structure rolls upon these twelve wheels. There are two bronze wheels which we have already referred to. In the rear there are two vertical trusses, sixteen feet in height, which are joined by ties and descend to the bottom of the frame, to which they are bolted. They constitute the skeleton of the immense stern of the vessel. The skeleton of the prow is formed of a vertical truss which is bolted to the frame. The rest of the construction of the ship will be readily understood by reference to the engraving. The large mast consists of a vertical tube, ten feet high, which is set into the center of the frame, and in the interior of which slides a wooden spar which is capable of being drawn out for the final apotheosis. The mast carries three foot-boards, and a platform for the reception of “supers.” It is actuated by a windlass placed upon the frame. Panels made of canvas, painted, represent the hull; there are nine on each side; above are placed those that cover the prow and the stern. The bowsprit is in two parts, one sliding into the other; the front portion is at first pulled back in order to hide the vessel entirely in the side scenes. It begins to make its appearance before the vessel itself gets under way. Silken cordage connects the mast, bowsprit, etc. On each side of the vessel there are bolted five iron frames covered with canvas which reach the level of the water line, as shown in the above engraving. Upon these stand the “supers” who represent the naiads that are supposed to draw the ship from the beach. At the bow there is fixed a frame which supports a danseuse representing the living prow of the vessel. The boat is drawn to the middle of the stage by a cable attached to its right side, passing around a windlass placed in the side scenes to the left. It is at the same time pushed by stage hands placed in the interior of the framework. The trucks or chariots which support the boat are entirely covered with painted canvas resembling water. As the vessel, freighted with harmoniously grouped spirits and naiads, with fairies and graceful genii apparently swimming about it, sails in upon the stage, puts about and advances, and is carried along by the waves to the front of the stage, the effect is really beautiful, and does great credit to the stage machinist’s art.

MISCELLANEOUS STAGE EFFECTS.

A rather curious illusion occurs in “Don Juan.” The monument of the Gubernator bears the inscription, “Here revenge awaits the murderer.” The moment that Don Juan appears in front of the monument, one of the stage hands removes a strip of some opaque substance from behind the transparent inscription, which now appears in brilliant letters on the base of the monument; the letters being lighted by lamps behind the statue.

In ballets the dancers are frequently represented as floating in the air. This movement may be produced by means of a common sea-saw. In aërial ballets and in the appearances of angels, etc., special devices are provided in up-to-date theatres, the mechanism usually being in the form of a trolley.

The enchanted book in the opera “Hans Heilig” is operated by means of a black thread which is manipulated by an attendant behind the scenes, as shown in our engraving.

THE DESTRUCTION OF THE TEMPLE OF DAGON.

In the production of Grand Opera it is frequently necessary to represent the wholesale destruction of a building or city. This is managed in various ways, as in the destruction of the Temple of Dagon in the third act of “Samson and Delilah.” The stage setting is very complicated. The temple appears to be of great size, and is most imposing. The stairs at the center and at the right and the left give access to the various parts of the building. A very large number of persons are on the stage during this act. Two columns in the middle of the scene are specially noticeable on account of their great size. When the moment has arrived for the destruction of the temple, Samson places himself between the two columns, and with his outstretched arms hurls the columns to the ground. The demolition of the temple quickly follows, each piece of scenery falling in the exact place arranged for in advance, so that there is no danger of injury to the artists or chorus. The two columns are specially interesting, as they are really of great size and weight. In reality the columns are hinged to the stage. To the interior of each column is secured an iron lever which passes down underneath the floor of the stage. This lever is bent like the bascule of a bridge. To the end of this lever is secured a rope which passes over pulleys to a counterweight. From the counterweight another rope runs over the pulley to the windlass. When the columns are to be overthrown, their weight is balanced by the counterweight secured to the end of the rope, so that there is little shock from the fall. The rapidity of the descent of the column is equal to the rapidity of the rise of the counterweight. It will readily be seen that these weights can be adjusted to give any effect desired. The same windlass serves to raise both counterweights.

THE HORSE RACE ON THE STAGE.

When first introduced, the horse race upon the stage was a decided novelty, and it is doubtful if any stage illusion is more ingenious. The two principal plays in which the horse race has been used are Neil[son] Burgess’s clever and popular play, “The County Fair,” and a French play called “Paris Port de Mer.” In both of these plays three horses, each ridden by a jockey, race upon the stage without going out of sight of the spectators. We have here a real effect plus an illusion. The horses are free from all restraint and really gallop, but the ground disappears under their feet, moving in a direction opposite to that of the run; the landscape, as well as the fences, also fly past in a direction contrary to the forward motion of the horses. The illusion in both of the plays we have mentioned is very similar, but we think the American invention is preferable. At the proper moment the large screw shown in the lower part of our engraving is set in motion by the electric motors. It lifts the mechanism of the horse race up to the level of the floor, which had previously covered it. The lights in the theater are turned out, and after a few moments of inky blackness the flying horses appear at the side of the stage, in a blaze of light, and seem to strain every nerve, fairly flying past the varied landscape. Fences and trees disappear behind them with startling rapidity. When at last the finish is near, one of the horses gradually works forward and becomes the winner by a neck as he approaches the judges’ stand. After an instant of darkness a flash of light follows, and the horses are pulled up in front of the judges’ pavilion and the race is won.

This result is accomplished by means of three flexible endless platforms passing over rollers at the sides of the stage. These moving platforms enable the horses to be in rapid motion without actually moving forward, and, as a matter of fact, instead of moving forward, they are well secured by wire rope traces. As the race nears the finish, the platform on which the winning horse is stationed is gradually slipped forward on a track provided for the purpose, the actual movement being, of course, only a few feet. The space between the fence and the scenery is fourteen feet, which gives ample space for free action of the horses. The fence in the foreground consists of a number of pickets fastened to an endless belt. The pickets run in guides which hold them rigidly perpendicular during their passage over the stage. The scenery back of the stage is carried by two powerful rollers, and is turned by means of an electric motor so arranged that it may be unwound at any rate of speed. Much of the effect of the scene is due to the speed with which the electric lights are flashed from extreme darkness to brilliant light. The illusion is further heightened by the way in which the horses’ manes are tossed about. This is accomplished in a very novel manner. In the extreme lower right-hand corner of our engraving will be seen a blower actuated by an electric motor. Air from this blower is conducted to a large funnel which discharges the air just out of sight of the audience. This causes the horses’ manes to be blown in all directions. All of the complicated electrical apparatus is driven from a single switchboard at the right, which is usually manipulated by Mr. Burgess himself. Our engraving is from “The Electrical World.”

Our other engraving shows the arrangement as used in the French play, “Paris Port de Mer.” The tracks are formed of an endless matting of cocoa-nut fibre. This belt runs over drums at each side of the stage and is made taut by a third drum on a level with the stage floor. The belt is supported by a series of wooden rollers which are placed very close together and revolve on pivots. The drum at the left of the stage is driven directly by the motor. The fence is mounted on an endless belt, as in the Burgess illusion, and is operated by an air motor. The panorama, which unwinds in a minute and a quarter, is operated by hand.

Mr. Neil[son] Burgess devised another plan for producing the illusion of a horse or other race. Two or more disks or wheels of appropriate size are secured to a common shaft so that they will rotate independently. The wheels are of different diameters, so that the larger will afford a clear path for the contestants. The racers are held back by wires which pass over windlasses, and their relative positions may be governed by paying out or drawing in the wire. The runners, of course, cause the rotation of the disk as in a horse power, and this gives the illusion of real running. An appropriate background scene may be used, and the shaft carrying the disks may be moved across the stage by journaling it in a four-wheel truck, the flooring being removed so as to permit of this horizontal movement.

An American, Mr. Frank M. Chapman, invented another scheme for producing the same illusion. He devised a circular track, or turntable, somewhat the same as that used in horse powers. A panorama is carried by rollers, and works across the proscenium opening. One or more horses are placed upon the turntable at any desired point between the panorama and the front of the stage, and are then started. They are held back in the same manner as in the ordinary treadmill, and will not advance until the wire is slackened. In the meantime the panorama is moving in the direction opposite to that in which the horses are supposed to be moving. This operation is accomplished by means of the gear connection between the rollers of the panorama and the horses acting on the surface of the turntable to turn the same.

THE EFFECTS IN “SIEGFRIED.”

“Siegfried” is the second drama and the third evening of the “Ring of the Nibelung.” It is devoted to the life and adventures of young Siegfried, from his childhood under the care of the dwarf smith Mime, until he wakens Brünnhilde from her long sleep on the fire-guarded rock on which she was put to sleep by Wotan as a punishment for disobedience in sheltering Sieglinde. The first act of “Siegfried” is particularly charming. It is called the “Welding of the Sword.” The scene is laid in a large rocky cave with openings leading out to the forest. The forge is built out of rocks, the bellows alone appearing to be artificial. A large anvil and a few tools complete the equipment of the forge. As the curtain rises, Mime is seen hammering the sword, but the result does not seem to be satisfactory. Suddenly Siegfried enters, clad in a dress of skins, and accompanied by a bear which he captured. Mime retires behind the forge. After Siegfried and Mime have indulged in a dialogue, the former jumps up and goes towards the sword; grasping it, he tries it with his hand, and finally strikes it upon the anvil, whereupon it is broken.

Supported by a square frame of hewn timbers is the bellows, which is composed of hides fastened together with rings. The leather cylinder rises and falls by means of a lever secured to the top. Siegfried goes bravely to work. Going to the forge, he heaps coals upon the open hearth, and gradually fans the fire; it rises and rises until there is a roaring blaze. The light shines fitfully upon Siegfried and upon the walls of the cave. At each stroke of the bellows handle the fire rises higher and higher. Siegfried places a crucible in the midst of the fire, and in it puts the pieces of the broken sword. When the pieces appear to be melted, he takes up the crucible with a pair of tongs and pours the fluid metal into a clay mold. Grasping the mold with a piece of cloth, he carries it to the rough-hewn tempering log trough and throws it in. The heated metal coming in contact with the water causes the steam to rise. When Siegfried judges that the sword has cooled sufficiently, he takes it from the trough and, striking it a smart blow, breaks the mold which surrounds it. He then heats the blade of the sword in the forge and proceeds to the anvil. At each stroke of the hammer the sparks fly, producing a most realistic impression. He now places the sword in a vise, files it, and then rivets on the handle.

At last Siegfried finishes the sword and he says:

He now wishes to test its temper, and, raising it aloft, he brings it down, giving a tremendous blow to the anvil, which is cleft in twain, sparks following the anvil to the ground. Those who have never seen “Siegfried” can form but a faint idea of the realism of this scene, which taxes the resources of the property master to the utmost. It will now be asked how the very clever illusion of the forge and anvil is produced. Our engraving gives an idea of the rear of the forge. It consists of a rough table, the front of which is covered with canvas to represent rocks. The top of the table is quite well hidden from the spectators by painted work which masks the front of the forge so that the mechanism for obtaining the light effects from the top is disguised. The gas is connected with the forge by means of two pieces of rubber hose, one of which is provided with a small burner which is kept constantly lighted. Before the curtain is raised it is not noticeable, as it is turned down until the flame is blue. When Siegfried goes to the forge and heaps on the coal, the stage hand called the “gas man” turns on the gas so that it flows through the other pipe, which ends in a rose burner at the top of the forge. The instant the gas reaches the rose burner it is ignited by the jet which was kept lighted. By manipulating the valve, the quantity of gas is regulated so that the flame burns high or low as desired. As soon as the fire is supposed to rise to any height the glare of it is cast upon Siegfried’s face. This is accomplished by means of incandescent lamps which are arranged one on each side of the rose burner and three just in front, in the painted work which masks the front of the forge. The lamps are arranged on two circuits; those in the middle on one circuit, and those on the back of the forge on another circuit. The wires run into the wings, and the electrician lights them and dims them, as required, by means of rheostats. Steam is used to give the effect of smoke. This is admitted by a stage hand in the wings. The quantity of steam admitted depends upon the height to which the fire is supposed to have risen. It may thus be seen that the effect of the lighting is produced by a clever combination of gas, electricity, and steam, which must be combined with the greatest possible art. In the old forge at the Metropolitan Opera House, which was burned in the fire, the effect was obtained in a slightly different way. A man was placed under the forge, and when the flame was to rise, he blew lycopodium powder into it from a box underneath the top of the forge. A quantity of the powder was blown out at each stroke of the bellows. The particles of the volatile powder caught fire when they came in contact with the gas jet, thus producing the effect of the gaseous flames from blacksmith’s coal and its sparks. The new arrangement is considered to be more desirable.

Under the top of the forge will be noticed a shelf on which are kept two swords. This enables Siegfried to substitute the swords as becomes necessary, and here is kept the sword with a firmly riveted hilt which he finally uses to strike the anvil.

The trough is also connected with a steam pipe. When Siegfried throws into the trough the mold which encases the sword, and when he tempers the sword, the steam rises. The steam is supplied from a drilled iron pipe. This pipe is connected with the steam pipes at the side of the stage by means of a hose which is carefully covered from view. The anvil upon which Siegfried strikes in forging the sword has one side covered by a piece of corrugated iron, six by twelve inches, and another piece of iron is over it, as shown in our engraving. It is arranged so that when the bow piece of iron at the top comes in contact with the lower piece a momentary short circuit is produced, so that at each stroke of the hammer a shower of sparks is produced. When Siegfried raises his sword and brings it down upon the anvil, he really strikes a spring which lets one half of the anvil fall, its under and outer side having the corner cut off for the purpose, as will be seen from our engraving.

There are other interesting properties and illusion in “Siegfried.” We have just seen how Siegfried has forged his sword “Rescue;” now begin a series of wonderful adventures which only end with his death in the “Götterdämmerung.” The second act of “Siegfried” takes place in a forest in which is seen a great linden tree. The whole stage is covered with rocks, and at the left, at the back, is a cave which shelters “Fafner,” a giant who has taken the form of a dragon in order to protect the treasures concealed in the cave, which include the mysterious ring and the Tarnhelmet, which gives the possessor unlimited power. Mime and Siegfried approach, Mime showing the way to the cave. Mime then leaves Siegfried alone to his fate. The youthful hero sits down beneath the linden tree and listens to the voice of the bird. He wishes that he could understand its language, and, cutting a reed, he makes a rude musical instrument with which he attempts to imitate the bird’s notes, but the result is a failure. He then takes up his silver horn and blows several blasts upon it. He has, however, no comprehension as yet of the song of the birds, but the sound of the horn has awakened Fafner, who appears in the mouth of the cave. The hideous creature moves forward from the cave and says: “Who art thou?” Then, after a moment’s conversation, Fafner opens his tremendous jaws, displaying his teeth. Siegfried seizes his sword and confronts Fafner. The now enraged dragon belches forth a sulphurous breath, while his eyes gleam with a very wicked light. The young Siegfried seems no match for the enormous beast. The dragon has almost seized Siegfried when the latter succeeds in wounding him slightly. The animal rears up on his fore feet, with the intention of hurling himself upon the intruder in order to crush him. In doing this, however, he exposes his breast so that Siegfried is enabled to plunge his sword into the monster’s heart. Fafner rears up still higher, and finally sinks upon the ground, and the dying monster sings of the race of the giants and the curse of the dwarfs. At last he dies, and as Siegfried withdraws the sword, his hand becomes sprinkled with blood. He puts his fingers to his mouth to suck off the blood. He now hears the forest bird again, and this time he is able to understand the language.

The fact of the matter is, it would have been much better if Wagner had written the music-drama so that the dragon would have been killed off the stage. Having once been put into the opera, it was, of course, impossible to get along without the ugly beast, but the tendency is now to retire the dragon as far as possible to the rear of the stage. The dragon which we illustrate is the creation of Mr. Siedle, the property master of the Metropolitan Opera House. Fafner is, without doubt, the finest of his race. He gives one the idea of something half snake, half crocodile, and somewhat resembles some of the now extinct animals of bygone geological times. It cannot be said that the dragon is a thing of beauty, unless we can admit there is a beauty of ugliness. Fafner is supremely ugly, but, from a scientific point of view, it is doubtful if there are any properties connected with modern Grand Opera which are more interesting. The problem which presents itself to the property master in building the dragon is an interesting and difficult one. As the dragon must be arranged so that it can be worked by two men, who are inside it, it must be capable of considerable movement and must give the appearance of great size. In the present instance the head of the dragon was modeled in clay, and each line and horny scale and boss was the result of careful calculation. After the head was modeled, a plaster of paris mold was taken from it, and from this another plaster cast was made, upon which the actual head was built up out of papier maché. After the papier maché work was finished, it was painted dark green; different shades were, of course, used.

The body of the dragon is of cloth; the legs and feet are not attached to it, but are put on by the two men who operate the dragon. The feet and claws of the dragon are pulled on by combination overalls and boots. The man who takes the part of the fore feet wears a heavy belt with hooks on the side to carry the wires which furnish the current for the electric lamps in the eyes, and a rubber hose by which the dragon is enabled to breathe a sulphurous breath. A long lever of iron runs from Fafner’s head through his body, and by means of this the man who plays the hind legs moves the head up and down; the shoulders of the first man being the fulcrum. Independently of this, the man in the fore legs moves the upper jaw and the feelers. The painted cloth body might be likened to a camera bellows. The antennæ can be moved by means of cords, adding greatly to the terrible appearance of the monster. The enormous red tongue can also be moved by the first man, and the jaws are freely hinged. The eyes are set in what appear to be enormous saucers; they are covered over with painted silk. Behind this are incandescent lamps which are turned on and off fitfully by one of the stage hands behind the drop scene which represents the mouth of the cave. The wires run to the tail, as does also the steam pipe which furnishes the breath of the monster. The steam is allowed to escape from the mouth and through the nostrils. The tail consists of a number of sections of wood articulated by means of hinges. It is covered with painted cloth. When the first act is about over, the two men who are to act as the legs of the dragon get inside the body and are then elaborately fastened by the stage hands. They then waddle along to the opening of the cave, assisted by several of the stage hands, as the enormous body is very difficult to manage. One man works the steam while the other attends to the lighting of the eyes. After Siegfried kills the dragon, the stage hands go at once to extricate the two men from their uncomfortable position. The singer who takes the part of Fafner may be disposed in two ways; he may be either under the raised bridge upon which the monster stands, or he may be in the wings. In either case he sings through a speaking trumpet, which adds to the effect. The bird which is seen going across the stage and leading Siegfried to Brünnhilde is actuated by clockwork. When it starts, the clockwork is set in motion and makes the wings flap. Another bird, which appears to the audience to be the same, crosses the stage on wire from right to left, further back, and a third one is seen at the left, still further away. This one Siegfried follows to the rock of the Walküre, just as the curtain falls upon the wonderful scene.

The third act of “Siegfried” opens in a wild, rocky path at the foot of a high mountain. The scene is laid at night, and there is considerable thunder and lightning. Before the entrance to a cavern in the rock stands Wotan, who never appears as a greater bore than in this act of “Siegfried.” After a seemingly interminable conversation with Erda, she vanishes and Siegfried appears. After considerable conversation between Siegfried and Wotan, Siegfried advances to the latter, holding his sword, which has once before been shattered on the same shaft, in order that he may reach the summit of the mountain upon which Brünnhilde sleeps, protected by the sea of flames. Siegfried fights with Wotan and hews the spear in pieces. A fearful flash of thunder follows; flames and steam rise in front, and Siegfried’s horn is heard as he plunges into the fire. At length the fierce glow pales, the scene changes, and represents the summit of a rocky mountain peak, as in the third act of the Walküre, and Brünnhilde is seen in deep sleep.

The illusion is very clever indeed. Wotan’s spear, as shown in our engraving, consists of a divided shaft, one part of which telescopes with the other for a few inches. The upper part of the spear is forced down over the lower, thus compressing a coiled spring. When the spring is compressed sufficiently, it is caught by a catch. Now, when Siegfried strikes the spear with his sword, Wotan presses a button which releases the upper part of the spear. The coiled spring is sufficiently strong to throw it off from the lower part. As the upper part rises, it lights matches secured by holders in the center of the lower part of the spear. A piece of sandpaper is secured to a little door which opens in the shell of the top part of the spear. As the sandpaper passes the matches, it lights them, setting fire to a small quantity of gun cotton, which lights flash paper concealed in the end of the spear. A lightning flash and a flash of thunder usually accompany the breaking of the spear. Formerly an electric spear was used, but it was found that the matches were simpler and more reliable.

Arrangements are provided at the Metropolitan Opera House so that an entire curtain of steam can be made to rise across the whole length of the stage, a narrow section of flooring being taken up, and a perforated section put in instead. A perforated steam pipe is also provided.

THE BED OF TULIPS AND THE ELECTRIC FIREFLY.

A very pretty electrical effect has been introduced in the garden scene in “Faust.” Siebel, the would-be lover of Marguerite, advances to a bed of tulips, some red, some white, and some gold, to pluck a bouquet that he would leave upon her window to speak for him. Concealed in the corolla of each flower is an electric lamp. Now Mephistopheles had long before warned Siebel:

But, unheeding, Siebel plucks a golden tulip which shines as he lifts it up to him. A fine wire which carries the current keeps the lamp aglow and is not seen as it trails along the foliage. No sooner does Siebel examine it than Mephistopheles, partly concealed, raises his hand; the current is cut off, and the flower grows dull and withers perceptibly.

Then with his other hand he plucks a red tulip, a white and a golden one and holds them up triumphantly, each glowing with a rich light; for Mephistopheles may not raise his hand against the power of what has been blessed. Then he changes the flowers from one hand to the other, and instantly they fade; but they gleam again when, remembering it was with the other hand that he had touched the holy water, he transfers them back again. This beautiful illusion is easily produced.

The electric firefly which has been used in the play of the “Kaffir Diamond” depends upon a somewhat similar device. Tiny incandescent lamps are affixed to the reeds and rushes in a swamp, each lamp being connected by means of a fine wire to a storage battery, through the medium of wires in a switchboard. Our engraving shows the manner of placing the lamp behind the weeds and rushes. The operator, in his hiding place, by pressing upon the keys of the switchboard, alternately lights up one and then another lamp, so that it would appear to be a single firefly darting hither and thither; or, by pressing a number of keys, any number up to a dozen or more could be lighted.

In “Die Walküre,” a red incandescent lamp is placed in a tin box which is painted so as to represent a knot in the tree. When the light is turned on, it causes a red glow on the hilt of the sword, and discovers it to be Siegmund.

We have already given several interesting examples of electricity upon the stage. We now present some engravings of the electric torch and electric jewels for which the theatrical world is indebted to the French inventor M. Trouvé. The electric torch was devised for use in M. Saint-Saëns’ “Ascanio.” In the mythological ballet, Phœbus appears among the Muses, holding the torch of Genius in his hand; the torch is of moderate size and elegant form, and must be brilliantly illuminated from twelve to fifteen minutes at each performance. An incandescent lamp scarcely concealed under colored glass jewels solves the problem. The principal difficulty was to light this lamp without the use of conductors, which should furnish the electrical current desired. M. Trouvé constructed some portable accumulators which are placed in the torch. The accumulators are six in number; the first three occupy the upper part of the torch, and the three others the lower part. They are of the Planté variety and have lead plates. Each of the elements is placed in the interior of a cylindrical piece of thin glass covered with gutta percha. The battery as a whole weighs four hundred and twenty grams (fifteen ounces), and is capable of furnishing electricity to supply the torch for two presentations. A small contact button is placed above two buttons, so that at the least pressure the lamp is lighted, and it is extinguished when the pressure ceases. Our engraving shows Madame Torri in the rôle of Phœbus.

M. Trouvé also invented what are termed electric jewels, in which glass jewels cut into facets are illuminated by a small electric light placed back of them. The jewels really consist of small lenses whose foci have been accurately determined. The luminous source itself always occupies an invariable position, that is to say in the center of the sphere, which is studded with the glass jewels. The lamp is connected with a small battery through the medium of a flexible conducting cord which is concealed under the garments. The battery is put into the pocket or attached to some part of the dress. Our engraving shows a number of these electric jewels which are used not only for theatrical purposes, but for a novelty in dress.

The jewels are very effective when attached to a ballet costume, and we give on page 341 an illustration of a danseuse as she appears when adorned with this glowing electric jewelry.

Another interesting effect which is produced with the aid of a small electric battery carried upon the person, is used in the duel scene in “Faust,” and is also due to M. Trouvé. It is rather simpler than the device which we will show for producing sparks from the sword in the duel. The two swords and the two cuirasses are extremities of the poles of a bichromate battery carried by the combatants. When the two swords come in contact they cause bright sparks to flash, and when one of the swords touches the cuirass of the adversary, a fifteen candle-power lamp is lighted, and remains lighted during the contact of the point of the sword with the cuirass; the lamp is, of course, in front of the cuirass. In furious sword play the two swords touch reciprocally the two opposite cuirasses; both lamps are simultaneously illuminated and give a considerable light around the combatants. This apparatus is not only useful in the theater, but has been tried in the fencing gallery during an assault; the apparatus shows the location of the blows without the possibility of contesting it.