VENTRILOQUISM AND POLYPHONY
$Ventriloquism.$--Ventriloquism is no more a gift than is the ability
to talk or sing; it does not depend on any peculiar formation of the
throat; it is, in fact, an art which can be acquired by almost any one
possessing a voice of average compass (some twelve notes), together
with an ordinarily good ear for music. If, in addition to these, the
tyro show any aptitude for acting and mimicry, there is prospect of his
becoming an expert performer.
Broadly speaking, ventriloquism consists in a close imitation of
sound _as it falls upon the ear_, the ventriloquist effecting this by
skilfully modifying the cavity of the mouth in such a way as to give
his voice a deceptive character.
The young ventriloquist must study all sorts and conditions of sounds
and voices _as they fall on the ear_. He must become familiar with the
models he seeks to imitate. He must, for example, note that a voice
from the cellar, heard in a room above, has a subdued and muffled
sound, many of the consonants being strangely altered, so that the
words, "I'm down here in the cellar, sir!" would sound more like, "In'e
down here in a zellar, zir!" Again, in listening to the knife-grinder,
he must observe, first the _bur-r-r_ of the wheel, and then a
combination of the _bur-r-r_ with a prolonged _iss_ when the knife
touches the grindstone. These little hints will, we trust, sufficiently
impress the beginner with the necessity of learning _to listen with new
ears_ whilst endeavouring to speak with a new voice.
You will observe, too, that the character of the assumed voice is
determined chiefly by the shape of the mouth. This is the more
important, because misguided learners are so apt to strain the larynx.
There should be no pressure on the throat, though some pressure must
necessarily be exerted on the chest and the abdominal muscles by reason
of the slow rate at which the air is allowed to leave the lungs; for,
be it carefully noted, _the ventriloquial voice can only be spoken
during a slow expiration of the breath_. Consequently, the learner must
exercise himself in controlling the breath, for which purpose let him
practise filling the lungs with air and then reading aloud as long a
passage as he can whilst the air is being slowly expelled.
With regard to modifying the natural voice, every one knows how this
can be done by extraneous means. A speaking-trumpet, for example,
renders it loud and harsh, whilst a hand placed lightly over the mouth
makes it low and muffled.
At an evening party where we had been amusing some juvenile friends,
a voice seemed to come from the chimney in obedience to one of the
boys, who stood before the fireplace as a new fledged professor of
ventriloquism, and we considered the imitation to be rather good until,
upon lifting the table-cloth near us, we discovered a confederate
on the floor, talking into an empty jug. This, of course, was mere
jugglery, but genuine ventriloquism is to be attained by a careful
management of the breath whilst _modifying the shape of the cavity of
the mouth_ by a proper adjustment of lips, teeth, jaws, tongue and
palate.
And here let us point out that, although the best ventriloquial
effects can only be produced by the mature voice, it is well to begin
practising at an early age, in order to make the vocal organs strong
and flexible. The present writer began experimenting at the age of
twelve, only resting therefrom, as every boy should, during that
beautiful period of "gruffiness" consequent on the breaking of the
voice. After that we went on again, making slow headway, until one
memorable night when we received undoubted assurance of our ability to
deceive. It was at a party given by a bluff sea-captain in a northern
town, and a young gentleman was singing a very sentimental ditty to a
saddened audience, when we essayed between whiles to imitate the singer
in a falsetto voice, muffled, as if coming through the closed shutters,
towards which we took care to cast an occasional glance of annoyance.
Presently the captain rose and left the room on tiptoe, at the same
time indicating by vigorous pantomime that the singer was to proceed
with his song. Before long a tremendous splash of water was heard on
the pavement outside, and our host soon after re-entered, remarking
that he had taught those young vagabonds not to mock people outside the
shutters, for he'd given them "billows" from the top bed-room window.
There are in reality only three well-defined ventriloquial voices:
(1) the _distant_ voice, as from the roof, the street, etc.; (2) the
_resonant_ voice, as from a chimney, cupboard, cellar, etc.; and (3)
the _falsetto_ voice.
"But," exclaims the intelligent reader, "how can each voice be used for
various imaginary places? Will the _distant_ voice serve equally well
for roof or street?" It will; and this brings us to a very important
point, viz., that we judge of the _direction_ of sound partly by means
of the sense of sight. A railway traveller, for instance, seated in a
waiting-room, is often perplexed as to whether an approaching train is
"up" or "down" until he notes the demeanour of those on the platform
who can see the train coming in. It is always difficult to determine
the direction from which distant sounds proceed, and frequently of
sounds much nearer. But this uncertainty is of vital importance to the
ventriloquist, as it enables him "to make the ears the fool of the
other senses." When he uses the _distant_ voice, the audience will
be unable to refer it to any particular quarter, unless the place be
suggested to them by the performer. The moment he does this, however,
by word or sign or mere glance even, the imagination of the audience
does the rest, and the illusion is complete. It is plain, therefore,
that the tyro should have some taste for acting, otherwise he can
neither conceal the internal efforts he is making, nor invest his
shadowy characters with any degree of naturalness.
Coming now to practical details, let the student attempt _the distant
voice_ in the following manner. Say the word "Hallo!" just in your
ordinary speaking voice, in order to fix the pitch. Then open the mouth
slightly, draw in the lower jaw a little, and firmly fix both jaws.
Next, stretch or arch the soft palate as in the act of yawning take a
deep breath, and utter the word "Hallo!" in the same pitch as before,
but softly, and _without moving the lips_, endeavouring at the same
time to direct the sound against the soft palate by turning the tongue
well back so as to strike the roof of the mouth. At first your strange
gurglings may alarm the household, and much fatigue may be felt in the
jaws and tongue, but persevere and you will soon acquire a new voice of
startling character.
_The resonant voice_ is produced on the lower tones of the scale, the
sound being forced into the nasal passages with a jerky explosive
delivery of the breath. The parts against which the voice and the
tongue should respectively strike may be felt by prolonging the sound
of the letter _n_ on a low note with the mouth nearly closed and
the lower jaw drawn back a little as before. In this way utter the
sentence, "Joe's down here in the cellar!" and the words will sound
deep and muffled and be accompanied by a resonant hum. _Remember always
to keep the lips and jaws immovable_, even at the cost of mutilating
your words. These will greatly improve by-and-by.
The practised ventriloquist can, of course, judge the effect he is
producing, but the learner, as soon as he makes any progress, had
better get a companion to criticize his efforts.
_The falsetto voice_ is feminine and must be familiar to all. If spoken
with the lower jaw drawn in and the mouth all but closed it will strike
against the hard palate and produce a thin, metallic voice like that of
a child. It can also be used for "distant" effects, according to the
method set forth for voice No. 1. The _falsetto_ voice is frequently
used for "doll-talking"--a branch of the ventriloquial art concerning
which, and polyphonism also, we shall have something to say presently.
Meanwhile, devote a few minutes daily to each of the following
exercises:--
(1) Singing the common musical scale to the vowel sounds, as well as to
the syllables _ha_ and _coo_. All good vocal exercises are an aid to
ventriloquism.
(2) Practising the management of the breath as already described.
(3) Experimenting with the three ventriloquial voices.
(4) Studying all the peculiarities of voices and other sounds _as they
fall upon the ear_.
The learner still finds it difficult, no doubt, to enunciate his words
at all clearly without moving the lips and jaws, but this difficulty,
though it will never quite vanish, may be greatly reduced. The vowels
run smoothly enough, but the consonants give trouble, particularly the
_labials_, _b_, _p_, _m_, and their first cousins, the _spirants_,
_v_, _f_, _w_. As to the _spirants_, one may soon acquire the knack of
sounding _f_ fairly well, so this must be used for _v_ also, unless one
can hit upon that nearer substitute got by compounding _g_ and _f_.
To catch this sound with lips and jaws immovable, pronounce the word
_never_ as "_negfer_," quickly, with a light touch on the _g_. The
sound of _w_ is well represented by that of _oo_. For the _labials_,
however, demanding as they do a positive closing of the lips, we must
substitute the letters _g_, _k_, _ng_. Thus, the sentence, "Jim broke
seven of Tom's pens this morning," would be rendered as "Jing groke
se(g)fen of Tong's kens this ng-orning," and the query, "When am I
to come up?" would become "Oohen ang I to cung uk?" Such sentences,
though good for practice, are bad for exhibition, and must be carefully
avoided in the preparation of dialogue. Nevertheless, they look much
more imperfect here than they would sound in the mouth of an able
ventriloquist; besides, as nobody expects to hear perfect words from
a distant source, the audience readily accepts the performer's mode
of rendering them. In this connection it should be remarked that the
performer may occasionally turn his face from view, and allow his lips
free play, although, as a rule, either a side face, or a three-quarters
face should be presented to the audience, and, pretty frequently, a
front face also.
We have next to deal with _ventriloquial perspective_, which appertains
to the gradual increase or decrease in the _loudness_ of a sound as
it approaches or recedes. Attention to this will give our assumed
voices just the magic touch. For the receding voice, speak more and
more gently, whilst gradually closing the mouth, until the sound
is shut off. For an approaching voice, reverse the process, but
in either case take care to _maintain the original pitch_. This is
just where beginners stumble; they mostly alter the pitch at every
step, graduating it from a growl to a squeak, or _vice versa_; nor
do they observe how the words spoken by a receding voice grow less
and less _distinct_ until only the vowel sounds remain. The following
presentment of these important matters may impress itself on the
reader's mind:--GOOD-NIGHT! GOOD-NIGHT! GOO'-NIGH'! 'oo'-nigh'! 'igh'!
We shall now give in outline a few sketches for the student to fill in
with dialogue of his own. The "situations" will readily suggest some
simple conversations well suited for effective treatment.
For _the man in the chimney_, assume a voice of low pitch, strongly
resonant throughout. Express your belief that somebody is up the
chimney, and stoop near the fireplace to question the intruder in a
soft and rather high-pitched voice. Then draw down the corner of the
mouth turned from the audience, and deliver your answers with force,
so that the sound may be deflected from the stone-work supporting the
mantel-piece. Your man in the chimney is a rough, cantankerous fellow,
who accounts for his presence in the most absurd way, and answers with
great warmth, especially when there is a fire in the grate. As soon as
he begins to ascend the chimney, step back a pace, keeping your face in
the same direction. To wind up, either leave him stuck in the chimney,
or dismiss him by way of the roof.
In speaking to _the man on the roof_, begin by taking a deliberate
look at the ceiling, and then shout "Hallo-o!" The answer, given
in the _distant_ voice, should sound almost like an echo. Before
answering, turn your face to the audience, and, with the head in an
easy, listening attitude, produce the reply softly on a note of _middle
pitch_. The man on the roof rarely speaks more than a few sentences.
The audience seem to understand how trying it is for him to converse at
such a distance, so he is humanely dismissed very soon, and may then be
heard faintly answering as he wanders on from roof to roof, or reaches
the ground by a ladder. Sometimes, however, the voice grows in strength
and resonance as the man enters the chimney, and descends almost to
the hearthrug; at other times, if the night is particularly cold, you
may ask him to remain where he is in the silvery moonlight.
[Illustration: THE MAN IN THE HALL.]
[Illustration: THE TALKING HAND.]
[Illustration: THE TRAP DOOR.]
[Illustration: RAISING THE TRAP DOOR.]
_The man in the hall_ is a capital voice to practise. With your hand
on the handle of the door, parley with the rough fellow who is trying
to push it open from the other side. At this stage use the _resonant_
voice, and explode your answers against the panel of the door. As the
man is noisy, you may produce a striking effect by alternately opening
and shutting the door rapidly, accompanying the action with a sudden
swelling and sinking of the voice, remembering at the same time to
maintain the original pitch. Much amusement will arise if your visitor
happens to be a sweep who has come to the wrong house, but insists on
cleaning the drawing-room chimney. You may even put your head outside
the door for a moment to remonstrate with him, and then step back
suddenly with the mark of a grimy hand upon your face--self-inflicted,
of course, with a burnt cork. As the voice moves away, its resonant
quality should be moderated, and, in case the man talks himself out
into the street, it should merge into the _distant voice_. Sometimes,
however, affairs take a novel turn, and the sweep, in seeking an exit,
wanders into the cellar, where he may be heard making unkind remarks in
accents faint and sooty.
The voice of _the man in the cellar_ is a modified form of the
_resonant_ voice, delivered with less force and less of the nasal
quality. A fine effect may be introduced by making your man slowly
ascend and descend the cellar steps, talking or singing all the time.
Moreover, this effect may be greatly heightened by using a trap-door
made in the following manner. Cover a sheet of stout cardboard (about
2-1/2 ft. square) with grained wall-paper to imitate woodwork, and
let it dry thoroughly under pressure, as warping would render it
useless. On it paint two large hinges with black enamel, and near the
front edge fix a large black ring by means of a loop of leather or
black tape. The ring may be either a wooden curtain-ring or a coil of
cane bound with "wax-end." To the under-side of the board glue two
leather tabs, in line with the hinges, but projecting, so that the
trap may thereby be fastened to the floor with drawing-pins. Before
the audience arrive, fix the trap-door in position, well to the right
or left of the platform or other space, and take care to indicate the
thickness of the woodwork on the edge which is to face the performer.
Under the trap a corresponding square of black tissue paper should be
pinned to the floor, so that, when the trap is raised, a dark hole
may appear beneath. During the performance, the trap must be lifted
with considerable toil, else its flimsy nature will be discovered, and
perhaps cause an untimely titter. If managed properly, however, it is
most realistic, and may be employed in a startling way to convey the
idea of a man raising it from below. This is done by fixing to the
upper edge of the board a piece of strong black thread (invisible to
the audience) at a few yards distance and attaching the other end to
a strong finger-ring to be worn by the performer. The ring, if placed
on a table or chair near the trap-door, may be slipped on the finger
at the right moment, and will thus enable the performer, whenever he
raises his arm with a gesture of alarm or of command, to raise the
trap-door at the same time.
Doll-talking is a branch of our subject which finds great favour
with boys, for it is often as funny as droll figures and smart witty
dialogue can make it. The nature of the dialogue, indeed, is of much
more importance here than in pure ventriloquism. The voices are easy to
acquire, but not so easy to describe. Draw back the lower jaw pretty
well; press the tip of the tongue against the lower teeth; raise
the rest of the tongue until it nearly touches (and it _will_ touch
every now and then) the roof of the mouth, and then project the sound
forcibly against the hard palate, just above the front teeth. The
falsetto voice treated in this way, sometimes becomes almost perfect,
enabling the ventriloquist to sound nearly every letter; whilst
appearing to be absolutely mute.
Fix upon two well-contrasted characters: one speaking in a shrill
falsetto, the other in a hard, metallic voice of middle pitch. Figures
for this purpose can be purchased at some of the London toy bazaars
and conjurers' shops. A pair of large dolls, with practical mouths
and eyes, would cost about two pounds, but heads may be purchased
separately and fixed to home-made bodies. These heads, which represent
a funny man, an old woman, a little girl and a negro, range in price
from five shillings and sixpence to eighteen and sixpence, the latter
kind being life-size. The pairs of dolls mostly used are styled "Tommy
and Joey," "Tommy and Granny," etc. The performer places a doll on each
knee and holds a lively conversation with them, often interrupted,
however, by the crying, giggling, and singing of the dolls, whose
unseasonable jokes and general naughtiness call down upon their wooden
heads many a resounding blow.
[Illustration: BETTY BOUNCER.]
There is a cheaper figure, however, called "The Talking Hand," which
may be bought at almost any large toy shop for about half-a-crown.
As great fun can be got from this figure, we shall now tell our boys
how to make it at the cost of a few pence. Get a quarter-yard of
unbleached calico, fold it double and trace upon it an outline of
the right hand and wrist. Then cut round the outline, taking care to
leave a broad margin and a long thumb. Stitch round the glove, turn
it inside out, and insert the hand. Now close the hand, and, with a
soft blacklead, mark in roughly the eyes, nose, etc. The projecting
knuckles will form the nose and the thumb the lower jaw. To give the
latter a better appearance fill out the tip with wadding and sew it
to that part of the glove just above it. Having withdrawn your hand,
flatten the glove, and proceed to mark in the features more carefully
with good writing-ink and a quill pen. The furrows in the face and
the hair should also be marked with black ink, but the wide mouth and
the tip of the nose with red ink. Colour the face with powdered chalk
(yellow ochre and red) rubbed in with pellets of blotting-paper. Take
care to make the eyes extra large and paint them with Chinese white.
To complete the figure, sew to the glove a cap-frill, a shawl of red
flannel, and a large bow under the chin, and "Betty Bouncer" becomes
one of the most comical creatures you ever saw, ready to talk, laugh,
or cry to order, while as to singing--well, you should just see the old
lady getting her top note!
The chief subject of our next section will be _polyphonism_, or the
imitation of various musical instruments, cries of animals, and other
sounds. Meanwhile the young ventriloquist will find quite enough to do
in practising: (_a_) Sentences containing labials and spirants; (_b_)
voices saying "Good-night," etc., in a monotone, whilst approaching or
receding; (_c_) voices at the door, on the roof, up the chimney, in the
cellar; (_d_) the "talking hand" or other figures.
$Polyphony.$--Polyphony is the art of imitating sounds of various
kinds, usually, without attempting to deceive the hearer as to their
direction. It may therefore be studied independently of ventriloquism.
Already the art is much in vogue. We all know the boy who occasionally
alarms the street with the yelp of an injured dog, or imitates the
"cock's shrill clarion" cleverly enough to deceive half the roosters in
the neighbourhood and make quiet people mutter of canes and constables.
As in ventriloquism, so now the learner must first of all study closely
the sounds he wishes to imitate. Very often they may be roughly
indicated in words or syllables, and this is very helpful. Indeed, many
words in our language, such as buzz, bang, tinkle, thud, crash, splash,
and the like, originated in this very way. Let us begin with a few easy
examples.
_Knife-grinding_ sounds like the combination of a _bur-r-r_--made
by fluttering the lips--with a prolonged _ss_. _Sawing_ may be
indicated by the syllables _shuh-szee_ uttered alternately with the
difference of a semitone. _Planing_ can be effectively rendered by
strongly whispering _shee-yick_, _shee-ic-yick_, _ll-ll-luc_, and then
_yu-yu-yook_ as a long shaving curls out of the plane. With regard
to musical instruments, there is the _ta-ra-ra_ of the trumpet, the
_pangka-bongka_ of the banjo, the _zhing-sching_ of the cymbals, the
_pom-pome_ of the trombone, the _r-rhumbu-dhumba_ of the drum, the
explosive _plim-blim_ of the harp, and the _floo-lu-loo_ of the flute,
whilst the notes of a clarionet may be imitated by the player's running
rapidly down the scale from a sharp nasal _pli-li-li-plan-plah_ into
a deeper _glug-lu-lu-glah_. Syllables like the foregoing give, as it
were, an outline for the polyphonist to fill in with sound of the
right colour or quality. Thus, a tune on the cornet should be sung
to a _ra-ra-ra_ forced through the tightly compressed lips, and the
_flu-lu-loo_ of the flute, with its roundness of tone and breathiness,
should be vocalised in the falsetto while the cheeks are distended
with air. An amusing and realistic imitation of the _Jew's-harp_ can
be given in the following manner. Stiffen the first and second fingers
of the left hand and place them firmly over the lips, but lightly, so
as to allow the lips perfectly free play. Then give a strongly nasal
rendering of some monotonous air whilst ringing the changes as rapidly
as possible on the syllables _whanga-whonga whee-whaw whoodle-ongle
eedle-ongle whow-zeedle oodle-ee whay-whonga whaw_, during which beat
time upon the projecting fingers with the right forefinger as if
twanging the tongue of the instrument. By following on the lines now
laid down the apt learner may even become skilful enough to imitate
an entire brass band, a feat which has been performed by at least one
ventriloquist of our acquaintance. Some sounds, of course, it is almost
impossible to reduce to writing, as, for example, the hollow "skaw" and
murmur produced by a multitude of skaters, or the roar of an excited
crowd, but in listening to these sounds, it is useful to remember
that we may often obtain a key tone to work upon by partly closing
the ears--just as a painter can often find the prevailing tint of a
confused mass of objects by partly closing the eyes.
[Illustration: PHANTOM POODLES.]
[Illustration: "I HAVE TO WATCH CHARLOTTE!"]
When the young polyphonist has acquired some degree of skill, he need
not be at a loss to entertain his friends, provided he is fairly
resourceful as regards acting. But acting is of the greatest importance
to the polyphonist. As a knife-grinder he must work an imaginary wheel,
and deftly turn the blade of a table knife upon the stone; as a waiter
about to "pop" a cork with a strong click of the tongue against the
palate--he should first insert a shadowy cork-screw with a chirrupy
squeak; and as a cook frizzling bacon, he may do a cardboard rasher to
a turn on a battledore or fire-shovel. Even the buzz of a bluebottle
(made sometimes by a prolonged cornet note, sometimes by a stream of
air forced through the compressed lips) will occasion much amusement
if the performer acts the part of a languid mortal lolling behind his
newspaper in the dog days, and murmuring,--
"Oh! for the green of a lane,
Where one might lie and be lazy!
Buzz! goes a fly in the pane--
Bluebottles drive me crazy!"
Then might follow a reckless chase after that fly, which should finally
buzz itself crazy beneath the huntsman's handkerchief. Again, the
barking of dogs may not be much in itself, yet we have seen a performer
cause roars of laughter by making his phantom poodles dance, tumble,
and leap over chairs and through a hoop, to a lively tune on the piano.
As a final step in polyphony, the learner should practise the
_ventriloquial treatment of noises_. This adds greatly to the
effectiveness of a ventriloquial sketch; as when the man in the cellar
takes to sawing and planing; or goes home accompanied by a dog,
whose barking, mingled with the shouts of the man, grows fainter and
fainter in the distance; or, it may be, the moaning of the wind is
heard without, while a last-century watchman proclaims the hour in a
storm-tossed voice.
To show how perfect such displays may become, we may instance the
case of Thomas Ring, a conjurer who gave an entertainment before the
entire English Court in the seventeenth century. From behind a screen
he imitated the voices of three butchers engaged in a conversation,
which was presently interrupted by a barking dog. The dog having been
whipped, a bleating calf was dragged in, a knife whetted, and the calf
killed amid the talk and laughter of the men. All this is, no doubt,
within the reach of some of our living ventriloquists.
[Illustration: "BLUEBOTTLES DRIVE ME CRAZY!"]
[Illustration: GOOD-BYE.]
And now a few necessary hints must be given in regard to the management
of an audience. Get your hearers seated in front of you, not around
you, with the front row at a distance of at least ten or twelve feet.
Politely impose silence upon them, and take care to repeat your opening
question two or three times before replying in the ventriloquial voice,
because this straining the attention stimulates the imagination of
your audience, and makes the illusion more complete. Another important
point--keep the assumed voice and the natural voice in contrast all
the time, by means of a running fire of questions; finally, never use
elaborate apparatus. Besides, ordinary windows, doors, and fireplaces,
an old chest, a folding screen, a trap-door, and perhaps one or two
"practical" dolls, will amply suffice.
Ventriloquists who employ a whole family of ingeniously contrived
figures--we have seen some of these dance a jig--should get them to
talk by machinery as well. There is very little artistic merit in such
performances. Nor should the performer be suspiciously surrounded by
scenery; it may cause misunderstanding, as the following instance will
prove:--
A ventriloquist performing at a London theatre some years ago imitated
a voice on the roof so successfully as to induce a man in the audience
to ascend to the roof in search of a confederate. Unfortunately,
however, two other men, filled with the self-same idea, also found
their way to the roof in company, and mistaking the first man for the
guilty person, gave him a sound thrashing.
In drawing our instructions to a close, let us point out that the
proper end and aim of ventriloquism should be not to play the pranks
of "Valentine Vox," but to afford our friends innocent amusement. Of
course, no manly boy would ever think of frightening little children;
but he might be tempted to give older people a little surprise. It
is therefore well he should know that persons altogether ignorant of
ventriloquism may be wonderfully deceived.
One morning, just after a new servant had come to the house, we
noticed a doll in the kitchen, sitting bolt upright and staring as hard
as her glass eyes would let her. So, going up to it, in presence of the
girl, we shook hands gravely, and said, "Good morning, Dolly!" To which
she sweetly replied, "Good morning, sir! I have to watch Charlotte!"
The effect produced on the girl was so pronounced that for days after
she would hardly touch the uncanny creature.
On another occasion, at a house in Kentish Town, affairs took a more
serious turn; for a young woman, upon hearing a gruff voice proceed
from the chimney, astonished a company of six or eight persons by
falling on her knees in broad daylight to implore the troubled spirit
to unburden its mind. Upon this we at once desisted, and explained,
though not without difficulty, the nature of the deception.
The ventriloquist should therefore use his strange power with caution,
and mainly, as we have said, for the innocent amusement of every one
concerned. At the same time he will reap from his studies certain
advantages often lost sight of, viz., the training given to the ear as
regards the nice discrimination of sound--musical and non-musical--and
the command obtained over the vocal organs with respect to elocution.
The whole of our instructions may be summarized thus: (1) Listen to
sound intently; (2) learn to analyze it; (3) experiment patiently and
regularly; (4) cultivate acting. With these points in view, no reader
possessing an average voice, together with some aptitude for mimicry,
should fail to acquire the coveted art.
Some folks may fear that these practical lessons will produce
ventriloquists by the score. To such we reply, Rest easy, good people!
Ventriloquism, like every other art, requires patience and perseverance
for its attainment. Consequently, many a reader, sufficiently gifted
by nature, will fail in its pursuit. It is the enthusiasts who will
succeed, and they, after all, are the ones who deserve the reward.