IN THE MENAGERIE.
Before entering the menagerie let us look at the huge cannon standing
here outside the dressing-tent. It looks like a ponderous affair, but
investigation shows that it is made of wood. There is a latitudinal
slit at the lower end and a lever. It requires an effort to push the
lever back which indicates that there is a pretty strong spring in
the bottom of the cannon. This is the piece of ordnance that Zazel is
shot out of into a net some distance away. She lies on her back in
the cannon, which is tilted to an angle of about forty-five degrees,
assumes a rigid position, and at the word fire the lever is pulled
back, the spring released, a pistol is fired, and while Zazel is coming
through the air a little cloud of smoke rolls from the cannon's mouth
and is swept away almost before she lands on her back in the net. Sig.
Farini says Zazel is his daughter. Barnum says that when he was in
London where Zazel was doing the cannon act, creating a great furore,
the pretty little French girl came to him crying and asked to be taken
away. She was only getting about six dollars a week for the perilous
work she was doing and Farini was drawing a large salary out of which
she got this pittance.
Sig. Farini also owns the Zulus that have appeared here. As their
manager he is well paid for them, and as the Zulus sleep in the
menagerie tent and have but few wants and he gives them about a dollar
a day--so Barnum says--Cetawayo's subjects are a profitable investment
for him. Zulu Charley on exhibition in New York gets the magnificent
sum of one dollar a day for doing his native war-dance and standing
fire under the numerous eyes that are leveled at him daily. There is a
bit of romance about this black warrior. Among the crowds who thronged
to see the antics of the Zulus at Bunnell's Dime Museum, New York City,
last winter, was an Italian girl named Anita G. Corsini, eighteen
years old, a music teacher by occupation, and the daughter of a Mr.
Corsini who is in business in New York. Zulu Charley won her admiration
and love, and she spent many quarters from her hard-earned savings
to see the dusky object of her affections. Charlie did not repel her
affections and they swore to be true to each other. Mr. Corsini,
however, did not regard with favor the prospect of a marriage between
his daughter and a negro, and did everything in his power to dissuade
her from carrying out her intention. Last week, however, the couple
eloped, but while on their way to a minister's house they were arrested
at the instance of Anita's father.
When the case came up on the following morning in the Jefferson Market
court the father wanted to have the girl sent to Blackwell's Island,
but upon her promise to obey him and leave the Zulu he changed his
mind and took her home. But she again met Charley and, accompanied by
another Zulu named Usikali, and Charles Richards, a white man, they
went to the residence of the Rev. R. O. Page, Brooklyn, and asked to be
married. The minister consented, but he seems to have made a mistake,
addressing all the questions to Usikali instead of to Charley, and
then pronounced them man and wife. On learning his mistake, however,
he performed another ceremony between the right parties. The newly
married couple then went to the museum, where the bridegroom took part
in the usual Zulu war-dance.
The tattooed Greek Costentenus with his picture-covered flesh is always
an object of admiration to the ladies. He says he was tattooed into his
present shape by Chinese Tartars and tells a harrowing story of his
sufferings.
The torturing doesn't seem to have impaired his health or bothered
his appetite any. He is a magnificent looking man physically and
in his unstripped condition is a figure that the eye of an artist
would delight to dwell upon. His only rival is a lady who is now on
exhibition in England and whose breast and upper and lower limbs are
covered with tattooing. I do not know her history, but she probably
submitted to the process to make money out of it. Dr. Lacassagne, a
French physician, has published a book on the habit of tattooing as
practised in the French army. There are professional tattooers in
Paris and Lyons who charge half a franc for each design. Generally
the tattooer has cartoons on paper and reproduces these on the skin
by a mechanical process. Large designs cost a good deal; a big
representation of an Indian holding up the flag of the United States
costs the decorated person fifteen francs. China ink is the coloring
substance preferred, touched up with vermilion. Dr. Lacassagne has
collected one thousand three hundred and thirty-three designs,
tattooed on three hundred and seventy-eight members of the Second
African Battalion or on men under arrest in military prisons. Many
were tattooed on every part of the body except the inner side of the
thighs. Patriotic and religious designs and inscriptions amounted to
ninety-one. There were two hundred and eighty amorous and erotic
devices and three hundred and forty-four works of pure fantasy, such as
ladies driving in a carriage, the horses plunging and servants rushing
to their heads. The great efforts of art are reserved for the surfaces
of the breast and back. The subjects of many of the drawings are best
left undescribed, the imagination of a dissipated soldier being quite
savage in its purity. Among patriotic and religious emblems are cited
two devils, nine theological virtues, six crucifixes, two sisters of
charity, three heads of Prussians, not flattered, and five portraits
of ideal girls of Alsace, with no fewer than thirty-four busts of the
republic. Among animals the lion and the serpent are the favorite
totems. Among flowers the pansy is generally preferred. The æsthetic
classes will be grieved to hear that not a single lily appears, and
there was only one daisy. Among mythological subjects the sirens are
the greatest favorites; next comes Bacchus with his pards, Venus,
Apollo and Cupid.
Gen. Tom Thumb and his agreeable little wife are once more swinging
around the sawdust circle with their old friend Barnum. Gen. Thumb is
the most successful dwarf the world has ever seen. He is rich and as
happy as if he and his wife were as tall as Captain and Mrs. Bates, the
giant and giantess whose immense forms loom up above the crowds that
throng the menagerie tent. I have written elsewhere about captain and
his wife.
"Tummy T'um is ze worst bluff at pokair I ever saw," said Campanini
one day, in a confidential mood; "I ride wiz heem in sefenty-seex from
Pittsburg to Veeling, and he loose me elefen dollars on a pair of
deuces. Ze Generale is a bad man at ze national game."
Campanini, it is well known, is exceedingly economical, and the loss
of eleven dollars he gulped down as well as he could, sinking it
away below the region of his lower register. It was a misfortune he
will never be able to forget entirely, but General Thomas Thumb is
a perfect basilisk to the distinguished tenor. Whenever their shows
exhibit in the same town the singer looks up the dwarf and challenges
him to a game of chance. They last met in St. Louis, a short time
before Campanini's departure for Europe, and oddly enough they settled
on a game of billiards, although probably for prudential reasons on
Campanini's part, as it was impossible for Tom Thumb to win such a
disastrous sum as eleven dollars from the Italian at that manly game.
The game took place in the principal billiard-room of St. Louis, and
it was rendered doubly interesting by the fact that Charles Mapleson,
faultlessly attired, kept the talley. A great crowd was soon attracted
into the room, and the only regret of the two distinguished players was
that they had not charged a general admission, reserved seats extra.
As the game proceeded Campanini grew excited, and the sonorous notes
of his full, rich voice resounded through the corridors of the great
hotel. This, in turn, irritated the General, and his weak, piping
tones, with a tinge of anger in them, contrasted strangely with the
Italian's. The crowd laughed, and Campanini unconsciously exhibited
some of the richest treasures of his stock-in-trade, while the General
grew desperate and absolutely tried to reach across the table.
"Fefteen," shouted Campanini.
Failing in his first effort, the General again tried to accomplish the
impossible.
"Fefteen," Campanini shouted once more.
Just then Charles stepped forward and offered to lift up little Hop-o'
My Thumb.
"Who is playing this game, anyhow?" the General fiercely demanded.
"Fefteen," again shouted Campanini.
"That makes three times the bloody Italian has said 'fefteen,'" Thumb
remarked, regaining his lost temper, and then to Campanini's dismay he
proceeded leisurely to win the game.
"Elefen dollars at pokair, twenty-five cents at billiards--elefen
twenty-five," the tenor kept muttering during the rest of the day,
and that night at the opera Col. Mapleson could not understand why
Campanini was so hoarse.
The "Wild Ape of Borneo" seems to be quite an intelligent animal and
displays first-rate taste in choosing his company. He has learned by
experience that girls were made to be hugged and kissed. Through the
bars of his cage he has seen many a rural lass's waist in the power of
a plough-boy's arm, and watched their lips meet in a smack that more
than discounted the old minstrel joke about the sound resembling the
noise made by a cow pulling her hoof out of the mud. It was no wonder,
then, that when the "wild ape" got out of his cage, while the circus
was exhibiting down South, he forgot all his Borneo breeding, and made
a rush for one of the prettiest girls under the flapping canvas. He
got one arm around her neck and with the paw that was free caught her
chignon and made a desperate effort to obtain a kiss. The girl's escort
was at first terrified and felt like climbing one of the quarter-poles,
all the females in the neighborhood shrieked, and the males began
to dive under their seats. At last a gentleman rushed up with drawn
revolver and fired a shot close to the ape's ear, whereupon he at once
abandoned his osculatory efforts, and made his escape.
[Illustration: PERFORMING ELEPHANTS.]
A curiosity that has been before the public for almost twenty years
is the "two-headed woman," Millie Christine. The fact of the matter
is that there are two women joined together below the waist, but as
they have a single physical organization their manager has seen fit to
call them one. This freak of nature is more astonishing than were the
Siamese twins or the Hungarian sisters. The two-headed woman was born
of slave parents on the plantation of Alexander McCoy near the town of
Whiteville, Columbus County, North Carolina, on July 11, 1851. Prior
to this Millie Christine's mother had given birth to five boys and two
girls, all of ordinary size and without deformity. The "two-headed
woman" will be best understood by reading an extract from a lecture
by Prof. Pancoast of the Jefferson Medical College, Philadelphia. The
Professor examined this curiosity and discussed upon the subject before
a large gathering of medical men. In introducing Millie and Christine,
he said he considered them the most interesting monstrosity of their
class that has ever come under the notice of scientific men, far more
interesting than the Siamese twins. In the midst of his discourse the
young ladies entered, clad in green silk on their two bodies, pretty
little bronze boots on their four feet, white kids on their four hands.
They moved forward like an expanded V, with a crab-like movement that
was not ungraceful. Born back-to-back; the Professor explained that the
natural desire of each to walk face forward had twisted them in their
present position. Separate entities, separate individualities, each
can pursue separate lines of thought and conversation independent of
the other. From habit their appetites call for food and drink at the
same time. All the ills of flesh are not, however, necessarily theirs
in common. One may have the toothache and the other be free from any
ache. But in the examination conducted to-day the Professor discovered
a remarkable development of sensibility since his previous examination,
eight years ago. Touching them on any extreme of the body, on any foot,
for example, both in common were conscious of the touch. Christine has
been and is now the larger and stronger of the two. As children they
used to have little struggles and quarrels for supremacy, but, as
they could not get away from each other, they early concluded that the
best way to get along in their novel path through life was to yield to
each other. Their present happiness and affection for each other is an
example for couples who are yoked together in marital bonds. Sometimes
Christine rolls over Millie in bed without awakening her. Both can
sleep separately. They can stand and walk on their outside legs, but
they prefer to walk on all fours. Millie cannot lift up Christine's
legs, or Christine Millie's legs. Since the Hungarian sisters, there
has been no similar case reported reaching adult life for one hundred
and seventy years. The bond of union between these, which is just above
the bones of the spine, is chiefly cartilaginous, but the spines are
so closely approximated that there is an osseous union between them.
To the question by Professor Pancoast, whether either was engaged to
be married, each denied the soft impeachment with decision, though the
Professor explained that physically there are no serious objections to
the marriage of Her or Them; but morally there was a most decided one.
During the Professor's lecture the Misses Christine Millie and Millie
Christine appeared very much interested in the diagnosis of their
singular condition and evidenced their superior intelligence by their
apt and ready answers.
[Illustration: JUMBO.]
Turning from the human to the zoological branch of the exhibition, we
find the usual assortment of animals from the monkey up to Jumbo, the
elephant, who is only one of a dozen in the possession of his owner.
All performing elephants are well trained, and there is scarcely one
that cannot figure in the ring, responding to the good advice of the
trainer, as the keepers often style themselves. The monkeys are always
a source of amusement, and never loose their drawing power. They are
intelligent animals, but the inclination they have for mischief makes
them quite dangerous. They tell a funny story about an actor out West
who had a pet monkey that he carried with him wherever he went, even
to the theatre. Jocko appeared to be perfectly harmless, and as he
had been at the theatre night after night without making trouble, his
master never dreamed that he would do anything out of the way. Imagine
his surprise therefore when one night as he was in the midst of a
comedy part down came Jocko from the "flies" with a false face he had
filched out of the property-room. His appearance brought down the house
and the play was spoiled.
A traveller in Japan writing about the amusements there tells
us of a very remarkable Sigmian specimen. He says: "There is an
unpretentious show, costing one cent to witness, that is full of
interest to those who have leanings toward Darwin's theory of the
origin of mankind. It has a trained monkey of no mean attainments. The
creature stands upright about three feet high, a well-developed and
intellectual-looking monkey, which will go through all the posturing
known to the famous India-rubber man, and some that that famous
individual could not throw himself into, but the crowning feat that he
has been taught is to dance the Japanese dance to perfection, taking
the exact step, having the correct sway of the body, keeping time
faultlessly, and using his arms and hands in exact accord with the
movements of the feet. It is difficult to realize that a dumb brute can
be educated as completely as this creature is. Oscar Wilde and this
monkey would make a strong partnership in the platform business, for
the monkey is certainly an æsthete--"a darling and a daisy."
If any reader wants to buy a menagerie he can obtain his curiosities
from dealers in New York or Europe. He must have plenty of money
though, as the prices of animals range high, as will be seen in the
following figures: An elephant may be had for $16,000; lion and lioness
with cage, $9,000; sea cow, $8,000; pair of large leopards and two
smaller ditto, $5,000; Australian kangaroo, $2,000; Australian wombat,
$12,000; ostrich, $1,000; royal tiger, $5,000; sacred camel, $2,000;
rare birds, monkeys and lesser animals, including those of American
nativity, $20,000; total, $60,000.
Among the rarest animals, says a writer on this subject, are the
hippopotamus and the gnu, or horned-horse. A first-class hippopotamus
is worth five or six thousand dollars, an elephant from three to six
thousand dollars, a giraffe is worth about three thousand dollars,
a Bengal tiger or tigress will bring two thousand dollars, leopards
vary from six to nine hundred dollars, a hyena is worth about five
hundred dollars, while an ostrich rates at three hundred dollars.
The price-list shows that, although expenses may be heavy, receipts
are proportionately large, and that it does not require many large
beasts to make a good business for one trader. A New York house in
three years sold twenty lions, twelve elephants, six giraffes, four
Bengal tigers, eight leopards, eight hyenas, twelve ostriches and
two hippopotami, being a total business of about $112,000, or over
$37,000 per annum, in the line of larger beasts alone, exclusive
of the smaller show-beasts, such as monkeys, and exclusive also of
birds, which latter items more than double the amount given. Gnus,
or horned-horses, have come into great demand of late years, both
from their oddity and rarity, and are valued at seventeen or eighteen
hundred dollars apiece. An elephant is always in demand, and sells,
whether it be male or female, large or small, "trick" or otherwise.
Ostriches, though heavy eaters, are not very expensive, as they have
cast-iron stomachs and digest stone, glass, iron, or almost anything
else that one chooses to give them, though they are judges of good
meat when they get it. They are not the only creatures that eat glass.
Heller or Houdin--I forget which of these magicians--found a taste
among Oriental jugglers for pounded glass, which they ate in large
quantities. A trial by the Caucasian trickster developed the fact that
glass was not only not injurious when taken in reasonable doses, but
that it served as an appetizer, stimulating the stomach to hunger after
food. There are two species of ostrich known to the trade, the black
and the gray; both are very strong, fleet, and practically untamable.
Lions, tigers and leopards form constituent attractions of almost all
menageries, and are too familiar to need description. It may be here
remembered, however, that people who deal with these creatures find
that there is comparatively little danger to themselves to be dreaded
from either lions or lionesses. These animals never attack any human
being, save when excessively hungry; and when enraged, from any cause,
always show such visible signs as put their keepers on their guard;
whereas, the opposite of these statements is true in regard to tigers
and leopards--the latter especially, which are regarded by those in the
trade as the most dangerous, cruel and treacherous of all the beasts
with which they are brought in contact. American lions or jaguars, and
American or Brazilian tigers are very fierce, untamable and strong,
although inferior in size to the lion or tiger proper. Of monkeys
and baboons little more than has already been said need be repeated
here. There are about one hundred and fifty different species of these
creatures, the most intelligent of which is the ringtailed monkey, and
the most stupid, that variety known as the lion monkey, from its being
gifted, instead of brains, with a long mane. The variety of deer and
antelope are numerous, and always find ready purchasers; the genuine
antelope will bring two or three hundred dollars in the market.
A show of wild animals is one thing, and a very good thing sometimes;
but the same number of wild beasts when not in show--but merely in
winter quarters or out and awaiting sale, presents a different, and,
sometimes, a curious spectacle. Thus in a certain back yard in the city
of New York, as singular a sight is presented to the lover of animal
life as is afforded probably in the range of the whole world. You enter
by a low doorway, and at first glance you see only a number of boxes,
with iron bars in front--amateur cages in fact--and arranged alongside
of each other, just as cases may be, without the slightest order or
general arrangement. If you look a second time at these boxes you will
be made aware of the fact that they are inhabited by certain moving
animals; for pairs of bright eyes will gleam out upon you through the
iron bars and occasional switching of some beastly tails against the
sides of the cages will become audible, as will every now and then
a deep smothered roar. Inspecting the box-cages or cage-boxes, more
closely you will see, further, that one of them contains a three-year
old lion, just getting his young moustache, or, what answers the same
purpose to a lion--his mane. Next box to this you will find a lioness,
about the same age as her mate, a fine specimen of African female,
who seems very much attached to a dog that shares her cage with her
in perfect harmony, at least so far as the lioness is concerned, for
she does all she can to live at peace with the dog, yielding to his
wishes in all particulars, giving up her meat whenever he takes a fancy
to it, and getting out of his way whenever he wishes to walk about,
although doggy does not seem to be a very amiable partner, and every
now and then gives the lioness a bit of his mind by biting her in
the ear. A little beyond this strange couple lie two more boxes--the
upper one containing a pair of young hunting leopards, as playful
as young kittens, which spend their time in calling to the cats of
the neighborhood, the lower one being the scene of the imprisonment
of a full-grown, very handsome, very cross leopardess, who is always
snarling and seeking whom or what she may devour. This latter beast has
a special antipathy to a young lad who has charge of her, and tries
half a dozen times a day to make mince-meat of him. On the opposite
side are a number of boxes, containing monkeys of various species and
baboons. One of these monkeys is a jovial female, christened Victoria,
and is one of the most expert pickpockets in New York, which is saying
a great deal. Vic can relieve a visitor of his watch and chain or
pocket-book in a manner most refreshing to a monkey and moralist to
witness, and although as ugly as sin is as quick as lightning. Next
door to this kleptomaniac ape is a happy family of monkeys--father,
mother and baby--who live together lively as clams at the turn of tide.
On the ground, at a little distance, lies another box, which contains a
monster baboon. This fellow is called Jonas, and is, without exception,
the ugliest individual in existence to which the Almighty has ever
given a shape--such as it is. These big apes are frequently palmed off
on the public for gorillas; they are strong as giants, gentle as lambs,
and can be taught tricks like dogs. As in the case of canines, severity
and kindness are resorted to in training them. Prof. Harry Parker, in
speaking to me about educating his dogs, said he rarely used the whip
upon them, but endeavored, by properly feeding and speaking kind words
to them, to make them obedient to his command, still the whip must be
used. Dogs that hop around on two feet have their little limbs lashed
from under them until they almost feel the sting of the rawhide in the
tone of the trainer's voice. Clown dogs, which have recently been
prominent features of circuses and variety shows, are taught to go
through every article that is put down upon the floor by their masters;
that is why they squirm through a hoop, run under and overturn chairs,
pass under bundles and upset the leaping basket that is used in dog
circuses. Prof. Parker and Prof. Willis Cobb, I may here remark, are
the best dog-trainers in the country, and both have large and fine
collections of educated canines.
In the rear portion of the yard which we have been visiting is an
inclosure, in which three or four horned horses or ponies, called
gnus, are digesting their rations; next to these is a case in which
is confined a fretful porcupine, who shows his bristles on the least
provocation, and sometimes when there is no insult meant at all. The
catalogue of cages or boxes is completed by that in which is held in
duress a Brazilian tiger of the fiercest possible description, who does
nothing but glare upon you and want to eat you. The meat-eaters in the
collection are fed only once a day--at noon--and cost about a dollar
per day to feed; the fruit-eaters, like the elephant, eat all the time,
as fancy prompts; while the vegetarians, like the monkeys, take their
three square meals a day. As a rule, all animals enjoy a better average
of health than man, because they have no acquired tastes or dissipated
habits. The elephant lives for centuries; the parrot is a centenarian,
while the lion lives but twenty years or so. On the whole, the average
life of man is greater than that of the majority of the so-called
beasts, though their average of health exceeds his.
Wax-works, of one kind or other, enter into the display made in the
menagerie tent; but the figures all seem broken or enfeebled by long
usage, and instead of being attractive, many of them are repulsive.
How different from Madame Tussaud's exhibition--the prototype of all
the efforts that have been made in the wax-work line! A correspondent
who visited this display many years ago, when the display had a
world-wide fame, wrote:--
"Madame Tussaud's famous exhibition of wax statuary and works in
wax afforded me a very entertaining evening's occupation. Here are
full-length portraits in wax of all the notables of the world; Queen
Victoria, Prince Albert, the royal children, George III., Queen
Charlotte, George IV., William IV., George II., Louis XIV., Emperor
Louis Napoleon and his empress in their bridal costume, Henry VIII.,
Cardinal Wolsey, all the present sovereigns of Europe, Kossuth, Gen.
Tom Thumb, etc., numbering nearly two hundred figures in all, so
artistically arranged and so well executed that the effect upon the
visitor on entering is the same as on coming into a grand drawing-room
filled with noble ladies and gentlemen. So perfect is everything that
you look to hear the figures speak, and can hardly convince yourself
that they do not move.
"The second room of Madame Tussaud's exhibition is called the Robe
Room, which contains the figure of George IV. wearing the order of
the Garter. This robe was worn by his majesty in the procession to
Westminster Abbey, at his coronation. To the right of this is the robe
the same monarch wore at the opening of Parliament, and on the left
the robe worn by the King in returning to Westminster Abbey after the
coronation. The cost of these three robes was about $90,000. The third
room of the exhibition is called the Golden Chamber, and contains
relics of the Emperor Napoleon, among which is the camp bedstead used
by Napoleon during his seven years at St. Helena, with the mattress
and pillow on which he died; the coronation robe of Napoleon and the
robe of the Empress Josephine; the celebrated flag of Elba; the sword
worn by the Emperor during his campaign in Egypt, and many other relics
of him. In another room is the carriage in which Napoleon made the
campaign of Russia, and which was captured on the evening of the battle
of Waterloo; also the carriage he used at St. Helena, in which, of
course, I sat down, according to custom.
"In another room are many relics of the French Revolution, among which
are the instruments by which the unfortunate Louis XIV. was beheaded,
as also Robespierre and others. These are but a few of the many curious
and interesting objects to be seen at this exceedingly entertaining
exhibition; and I passed several hours here, quite lost in the
examination of the collection and the recollections which the various
articles awakened."
* * * * *
The menagerie, no matter how small or how extensive it may be, always
has much within its cages and lying around under its canvas to interest
young and old alike. It is like a volume of natural history that may be
forever studied without exhausting the interest that attaches to it,
and the knowledge contained in it. Thrown down after a single perusal,
the book is picked up again and again, and each time its pictures and
pages seem as fresh and entertaining as they were in the beginning.
So, too, the collection of curiosities, that now-a-days form a very
important part of every tent-show, never loses its attraction for
the public. Gray-haired men who in boyhood looked, open-mouthed and
astonished, into the den of lions, still find the same pleasure in
contemplating these wonderful beasts from a safe distance, and take
delight in making their children acquainted with them. The tangled
forests and matted jungles of new regions are constantly giving up new
specimens of wild animal life; and with the old reliable attractions
still plentiful, and startling novelties occasionally coming to the
surface, there is every reason to believe that the menagerie will
retain its present hold upon the hearts of the people, and last as long
as there is canvas in the world to cover one or color enough to fill an
ordinary stand of bills.
Now we have seen about all there is to see. Passing out and by the
side-show blower with his fat woman and lean man, his glass blower and
Irish Circassian girls, his juggler, and the heartless band of music
he has playing at one end of his dirty tent; we move down the street,
the sound of the side-show music dies out, the canvas fades behind the
house-tops, and we have left the show world with all its sunshine and
shadow, its laughter and tears.
[Illustration: CURTAIN.]
Transcriber's Notes
The original text contained many typographical errors, including
missing periods and missing, unbalanced, or inconsistent single and
double quotation marks. The Transcribers attempted to correct the
simple ones, but many remain. Some of the more obvious unchanged errors
are listed below.
Punctuation, hyphenation, and spelling were made consistent when a
predominant preference was found in this book; otherwise they were not
changed. Spelling and punctuation in passages containing dialect or
French have not been changed.
Ambiguous hyphens at the ends of lines were retained.
Repeatedly inconsistent hyphenation and spelling, such as "make up"
and "make-up", "boquets" and "bouquets", and "fairy-land" and
"fairyland", have been retained.
The Table of Contents and List of Illustrations refer to "Herman,"
while the referenced pages of text spell the name as "Hermann." They
also do not hyphenate compound words that are hyphenated on the
referenced pages. These differences have not been changed here.
Illustrations have been repositioned between paragraphs, so the page
references in the List of Illustrations are only approximate in this
eBook. In versions that support links, the links in that list lead
directly to the corresponding illustrations.
Page 29: "Obarammergan" was printed that way; today, the town's name
is spelled "Oberammergau".
Page 45: "--_See_ p. 18." was printed at the bottom of the page in
the area normally used for footnotes, but it has no footnote notation
and is not referenced in the text. Page 18 contains an illustration
captioned "STAGE OF A MODERN THEATRE." As the appropriate position of
the reference could not be determined, it has been removed from the
text but mentioned here.
Page 50: "hair-brained" was printed that way.
Page 95: Closing quotation mark added after "and look your part."
Page 130: "pacing three time" was printed in the singular.
Page 132: "Such an accident happened him" was printed that way.
Page 186: "Every time the slits in the towel came opposite the slits in
the canvas the light shines through and the silver dance upon the lake
or river." was printed that way.
Page 186: "outer ruin" was printed that way.
Page 269: "D'Oyley Carte planks down $12,000" was printed that way.
Page 317: "meets a night of the quill" may be a typographical error
for "knight".
Page 347: "too awfully too too for anything" was printed that way.
Page 353: "café, which he run" was printed that way.
Page 391: "palmy days" was printed that way.
Page 463: "don't you forget it?" was printed with the question mark.
Page 477: "At least she learned" was printed that way.
Page 531: "The miner's, rugged and brown," was printed with the
apostrophe.
Page 544: "capacity for adopting oneself" was printed that way.
Page 561: "so I gave up thar trial" was printed that way.
Page 564 (originally 565): The illustration lacks a caption, but in the
List of Illustrations, it is "LEAPING".
Page 593: "Bacchus with his pards, Venus" was printed that way.
Page 600: "Sigmian specimen" was printed that way.
End of Project Gutenberg's Theatrical and Circus Life, by John J. Jennings