THE GYMNASTS.
The tragic accident which killed an unfortunate equilibrist,
Castagnet, by a fall from his cord in September, 1888, roused great
emotion amongst the public. Those persons, even, who wrongfully
credit the poor acrobats with practising every vice, cannot restrain
their admiration for the marvellous courage which these pariahs
display on these terrible occasions. We must take advantage of
the intervals thus produced in the contempt usually felt by the
public for circus artists, to prove to all lovers of fine physical
performances that this great skill is not acquired without the
practice of many daily virtues, of which temperance ranks least, and
incredible perseverance is the most admirable.
I have now frequented the society of _banquistes_ for many years,
and am on confidential terms with them; I cannot assert [p242]
too often the very great esteem I feel for them. Their art is
wholly traditional, and it preserves habits of respect and
obedience in their families which, perhaps, can scarcely be found
elsewhere. Of course there are some black sheep in the band, some
slave-drivers, like the bully whom Nils Forsberg formerly painted in
a picture—_Avant la ’Loi Talon_—which caused a great sensation in
Paris, but the subject of it appeared so cruel that the committee
dared not admit it to the Salon. But this is an exceptional case,
which is much less common than is usually believed. The “families”
whom you see pirouette in the arena, vault over fixed bars, and
scale the trapezes, keep, as a rule, to the old patriarchal customs.
Rehearsal fills every hour of the day which can be spared from the
theatre, and this muscular work produces a healthy physical fatigue,
which is the best school of morality.
The first business of a family of acrobats that wishes to succeed in
its tour round the world, is to perfect each member of it in some
special exercise which suits his natural aptitudes. Some men are born
_carpet_ acrobats, others are attracted by the _fixed bar_, others
seem born for _vaulting_. No mistake must be made at the _début_ of a
professional education, for an artist who wishes to acquire fame and
fortune must become a specialist from his first teeth.
Whatever branch may be decided upon, the carpet acrobats, the bar
experts, and the trapezeist have always commenced by training
themselves in a certain number of universal exercises which form the
basis of gymnastics, as the scale is the basis of all music.
They consist in learning the innumerable number of somersaults.
[p243]
[Illustration]
The first attempted with the _feet firm_, that is to say without
springboard or _batoude_, is the _somersault backward_. This is much
easier to learn than the _somersault forward_. The neophyte wears
a strong tight belt provided with a ring above each hip. Cords are
passed through these rings, and are held by two companions in work,
enabling them to uphold the gymnast. The latter strives to turn round
upon the axis formed by the two cords, gradually decreasing his
reliance upon them. At last he can dispense with them entirely.
Before the acrobat attempts the _somersault forward_, he must go
through the whole series of _exercises in posturing_. [p244] First
_bending forward_ or “posturing,” the hands laid flat upon the ground
so as to support the body, which is raised with the legs opened, the
first time in the form of a Y, the second time in an elongation of I.
Then comes _bending backward_, in which the body is arched in an
inverse sense, the hands on the ground near the heels.
Next follows the _curvet_, which is performed by throwing the body
suddenly backwards until the hands touch the ground. And at the
moment they reach the floor a vigorous relaxation of the muscles of
the legs makes the acrobat rebound upon his feet.
When any one has mastered these three primeval exercises, he may
attempt the _somersault forward_ without the aid of his hands. He
must now rely upon combining these various acquirements in “acts” of
his own invention that will dazzle and astonish the public.
The classical performance of a carpet acrobat opens by _bending
backward_. It is continued by a _monkey’s somersault_—a decomposition
of the somersault backward, by the _rondade_—a curvet backwards, and
then by a _somersault_.
But vaulters do not end here; each of them varies in an infinite
number of ways by the acts of his invention, the outline of his
acrobatic career. He introduces an _Arab somersault_ (a somersault
from the side, which is obtained by starting from the ground on one
foot only); the _lion’s somersault_, which is a _monkey’s somersault
forward_; the _coward’s leap_, in which the acrobat, lying upon
his back, raises himself by one effort of the loins; the _forward
somersault_, a _lion’s somersault_ without the hands, which throws
the man, legs in air, head downwards upon the nape [p245] of his
neck; the _carp’s leap_, also the sudden spring of an extended
acrobat, which raises him to his feet through the relaxation of the
muscles of the spine.
[Illustration]
The _double somersault_ cannot be performed from the carpet
without assistance; the artist must spring from the shoulders of a
companion, or with the aid of the peculiar spring-board which French
_banquistes_ call the _batoude_. With [p246] the _batoude_ Auriol
cleared twenty-four bayonets with a _flying somersault_, ended by a
_dive_—a jump from a great height.[12] With the _batoude_ specialists
have bounded over twenty-four horses, and at the gymnasium Du Marais,
belonging to M. Pascaud, last year an amateur, M. Mars, performed a
_triple somersault_.
This feat is the realization of the highest ambition of those carpet
acrobats whom you have so often seen grouped in an apotheosis in one
of those _human pyramids_ which rise in a second through the strength
of the gymnasts’ biceps, and which fall to pieces like fireworks, in
rockets of somersaults.
[Illustration]
We cannot leave the circus floor without allusion to a series of
individuals who exhibit themselves by the side of the genuine
acrobats in performances of a special kind.
These are the _contortionists_, the india-rubber women—all those who
were formerly known by the more general name of _boneless_ acrobats.
These boneless or dislocated performers are more numerous in the
world than one would imagine. [p247]
Ballet-dancers are all dislocated, for their feet, legs, and loins
have been disarticulated to obtain _beautiful points;_ the naturalist
quadrille-dancers from Mabille, who are now seen at the _café_
concerts, are also dislocated.
There are some naturally disarticulated men. All Parisians will
remember in their youth, a beggar who was celebrated as the “humpback
of the Pont d’Austerlitz.” This mountebank caused his hump to pass
from his back to his chest as he liked. The vertebral column turned
without any effort from back to front, and from front to back again.
He was found drowned one day between two coal boats, and his skeleton
is still shown in the Museum.
[Illustration]
But he was an exception. One must begin early in order to manufacture
a dislocated man like the “man in the ball.”
A wooden ball, about one yard in diameter, is rolled into the arena.
This huge sphere ascends an inclined plane, and rolls from right
to left upon it, then descends and recommences the ascension like
a living being. And truly, for it suddenly opens and a dislocated
man appears, who, without any semblance of fatigue, bows to the
astonished audience. [p248]
[Illustration]
No one has yet guessed the secret which enables this wonderful
contortionist to bend and move his body in so small a space. The
bones, instead of being joined by articulations, are held together
by a fibrous membrane which envelops them like a kind of muff and
holds them in their sockets. This membrane, called “a capsule,” is
very flexible, [p249] and is capable of great elasticity of tension,
during childhood particularly. By preserving and developing this
natural disposition, the abnormal movements can be obtained which
surprise us amongst acrobats.
[Illustration]
The performances of Walter, called the _Serpent-man_, are not less
extraordinary.
I will not insult you by supposing that you have not seen and
applauded this wonderful artist; it is, therefore, for the [p250]
inhabitants of hyperborean countries that I shall now describe his
work.
J. H. Walter appears in black tights spangled with silver, classic as
an Antinoüs, nervous as a stag. He looks as though he could reach the
friezes with a bound, and one is quite surprised to find that he does
not leave the “carpet.” His performance opens by an important and
novel act, in which the bust is reversed, and the head touches the
back of the knees, whilst the right hand seizes one of the ankles,
and the left is extended in an inverse sense, flat upon the ground.
And the startling series of leaps, of movements, of contortions,
which follow, end in an alarming pose, which recalls the monstrous
gargoyles of Gothic sculpture; for the acrobat drops his feet, knots
them under his head, and in this attitude, with starting eyes, and
rigid, open lips, he resembles a skull supported on cross-bones.
When we were introduced to each other, I complimented him upon his
artistic skill.
J. H. Walter seemed pleased with my praises; his British stiffness
thawed, and we chatted familiarly.
I was very curious to know whether this acrobatic monstrosity had
attracted much notice from the women. He frankly replied—
“Sir, the chastity which monks do not always observe is forced upon
an artist of my class. You will guess that I did not obtain this
complete flexibility in one day. On the very morning of my birth my
father commenced to bend my joints. I grew up with the idea that
I would be the greatest disarticulated artist of the century, or
perhaps of all ages. I never had any other ambition. With regard
to the point on [p251] which you question me, the greatest reserve
is imposed upon me. I have all the appearance of a strong man; my
chest is wider than your own, but beneath it I conceal the lungs of
a child; they are stunted by the daily pressure of my thoracic cage.
Consumption threatens me, and will carry me off very early unless I
break my neck in the circus some evening, which I should certainly
prefer.”
[Illustration]
The acrobat told me all this without any affectation, in so natural
and decided a tone that I did not feel justified in pitying his
fate. But since I wished to know what sentiment could survive, in a
being of such mediocre intellectual culture, his resignation to the
sacrifice of life, I said to him with some interest—
“I quite understand; dear Monsieur Walter, that the applause you
receive seems to you, whilst it lasts, a sufficient reward for your
past sufferings and approaching end. But, tell me, when the fever of
the circus has passed away, in your hours of leisure and solitude
like this one, do you not curse your destiny?”
The Englishman smiled quietly.
“I have,” he replied, “a specific against _ennui_—a passion which
saves me from reflection. I gamble, sir, gamble madly for whole
nights at a time. I stake the thousands of francs which the managers
[p252] pay me every month; worse than that, I have staked my
skeleton, and lost it!”
The terrace of the _café_, where we were talking, had become empty
through the lateness of the hour; the waiters had already closed the
front, and were taking in the chairs.
[Illustration]
The Serpent-man rose; and as I stared at him with wonder in my eyes,
he added—
“We are driven from here, sir. Will you accompany me to my hotel? I
will tell you how it occurred.”
He led me to a family boarding-house in the Rue du Colisée, which has
no customers except the acrobats who pass through Paris. J. H. Walter
occupied a fairly comfortable room on the first floor. He lighted a
lamp, and [p253] when we were seated, facing each other, he continued
his story in these words—
“It happened about five years ago I was performing in London, and
every evening I played poker in the taverns with an ill luck that
would not change. All my savings were lost, and when I had no money
left the idea occurred to me to insert an advertisement in _The Era_
(you know that is our professional newspaper), in which I said—
[Illustration]
“‘_J. H. Walter, the celebrated Serpent-man, will dispose of his
skeleton upon his death for one thousand guineas, payable at once._’
“On the following day I received a visit from a celebrated surgeon.
He made me undress, carefully examined [p254] my back, felt the
vertebræ of my spine, then drawing out a pocket-book, he handed me a
cheque for a thousand guineas without a word!
[Illustration]
“Alas! my ill-luck still pursued me, and the money soon followed my
wages.
“It is now eighteen months since I lost the last guinea of the
surgeon’s money on the card-table. But if the treasure has gone,
the contract still stands. In obedience to a formal clause in the
agreement, I always travel with this. . . .”
The Serpent-man rose, went to his bed, and, stooping down, he drew a
long, narrow oak box from under it. An [p255] address was painted in
large black letters upon this queer violin-case—
DOCTOR __________
__________
__________
_London._
The acrobat raised the lid, and I saw that the box was empty.
“This,” he said, “is my coffin; I always travel with it. Now, when I
break my neck, I shall be hurriedly embalmed and packed into it. You
see this paper gummed inside the box? It contains instructions from
the doctor himself, written in four languages, for the undertakers,
who will lay me out. Look, here are the directions.”
The Serpent-man stooped down with the lamp in his hand; I knelt
beside him, and read—
“_The persons who place the acrobat, J. H. Walter, in this coffin,
are begged to inject a solution of chloride of mercury and acetic
acid into his veins, according to the method used by the American,
Doctor Ure._
“_In default of the above, an injection of about four quarts and a
half of sulphate of zinc may be used. The latter is even preferable,
if the coffin will be more than forty days on the road._”
“Well,” said the acrobat when I had finished reading, “what do you
think of it all?”
“I think, my friend, that you must have been tempted more than once
to leave this box in the cloak-room.” [p256]
I smiled as I spoke, hoping to induce the Englishman to speak out;
but the Serpent-man replied rather dryly—
“No, sir; such a temptation has never occurred to me: a gentleman
keeps his word.”
[Illustration]
. . . . The performance of carpet acrobatics is something like a
state of larva to gymnasts. They all aspire to take flight.
The first step in this elevation is the “bars.”
The second, the glorious altitude, is “vaulting.”
Any one who has put on the belt of a gymnast, if but for [p257] one
trial, has practised on the single bar the following rudimentary
exercises:—
[Illustration]
1. _Breasting the bar_, which consists in gently drawing the body,
without jerking it, to the level of the bar, by the contraction of
the biceps.
2. _Circling the bar_—curling the body gently over the bar head
forward, holding tightly with the hands.
3. _Simultaneous “upstart”_—the elevation of the body [p258] above
the bar, with both arms through a spring from the back—“_temps de
reins_.”
4. _Alternative “upstart”_—one arm after the other.
5. _Upstart on one leg_, which has a corollary called _German
upstart_ or _swinging_.
6. “_Cutaway up_,” which is obtained by giving a strong spring, which
throws the body forward, brings it back again in a natural swing, and
is completed by an “upstart.”
7. _Long swings or giant swings, forwards and backwards._ This is a
series of rapid somersaults round the bar, executed with extended
arms. At times they are so rapid that the body describes a succession
of circles round the bar, like the arms of a windmill.
8. _Hough swings._ This exercise resembles the preceding one, but
the bar is grasped below the kneecaps, without the assistance of the
hands.
9. _Hands and feet swings._ This is performed backwards or forwards;
the hands and feet are both placed on the bar, the hands outside, the
feet inside.
This is a fairly complete list of the exercises of an amateur,
but very few of them practise the whole series. They pause at the
“upstarts,” and at once pass to the _double bars_ or _parallel bars_,
which possess the hygienic virtue of widely opening the chest and
developing the biceps.
Circus gymnastics usually commence with the _triple parallel bars_.
There are a few acrobats who perform with the single bar and a
_double “batoude_,” but I have only seen one specialist with the
_parallel bars_—Gustave de Penthièvre, who is rarely seen now in the
hippodromes.
[Illustration]
On the other hand, the _triple parallel bars_ offer signal [p259]
advantages for acrobats, through the opportunities they provide for
numerous and very varied exercises. They enable several gymnasts to
appear together, and thus give [p260] the artists breathing-time
whilst their companions perform their share of the entertainment.
These frequent intervals of rest are indispensable, on account of the
exhaustion which follows the violent exertions of the gymnasts.
The series of acrobatics performed upon the fixed _triple bars_ are
called passes.
Amongst them you will find all the exercises of the single
bar perfected, enlarged, and multiplied—the _simple swings_,
_demi-pirouette swings_, _swings on the feet_, _swings standing_,
_vaulting acts_, _hands and feet swings_, _hough swings_, _somersault
swings_, _heel swings_. Sometimes the artist raises himself, sits
on the first bar, opens his legs and profits by the impulse thus
received to spring forward upon the other bar (_vaulting act_);
sometimes he springs in recoiling, and then turns upon himself to
catch the next bar facing him (swing upon the heel); but it must
be understood that each acrobat has his particular acts which are
combinations of these exercises suited to his dexterity and personal
strength, and blended with various _falls_, _somersaults backwards
and forwards_, _double somersaults forwards_, _double reversed
somersaults_, etc., etc.
The _fixed bar_ is also the best school of _vaulting_ or _flying_.
Before Léotard invented the _flying trapeze_ by a stroke of genius,
_vaulting_ exercises were restricted to the _river jumping_. Acrobats
have now rejected with some contempt the two cords which held them
prisoners by the wrists; to-day, they are masters of space.
This subject reminds me of the modern kings of the trapeze—the two
brothers Volta.
[Illustration: THE HANLON-VOLTAS AT THE CRYSTAL PALACE.]
These gymnasts belong to a good family. They were educated in England
in one of those country colleges where [p261] English boys develop
the lobes of their brains and the biceps of their arms at the same
time. Thanks to this system, my two friends, although they are the
kings of the fixed bar, can also read the _Iliad_ in Greek with great
facility.
[Illustration]
They both worked in a bank, and in the evenings, after dinner, they
practised gymnastics for their amusement in a public gymnasium.
Naturally supple fine young men, they made wonderful progress. A
“manager” who accidentally saw them perform, proposed making an
engagement with them. They consulted each other. They laboriously
earned 600_l._ per annum between them in the bank. Now the Barnum
offered a salary of 160_l._ per month. [p262]
The brothers Volta closed their books, crossed the ocean with
a somersault, and made their _début_ in America. They joined a
band which already possessed two _flying trapezists_ and an _iron
arm_, the Hanlons, the genuine pupils of the old Hanlon-Lees. The
Voltas’ contributions to the entertainment was a very clever series
of performances on the _fixed bars_. This completed the scale of
vaulting exercises. The band could make the tour of the world in
glorious style with the varied accomplishments of its members.
With the exception of the standing swing and the feet swing, all the
exercises of the _fixed bar_ can be performed on the trapeze. Some
special swings are also risked, such as the _passe ventre_, which
is executed by throwing one’s self over the trapeze. But the most
popular of these exercises is the simple flight from one trapeze
to the other, with a few yards’ interval to be crossed between
them. This infatuation is explicable, for there is no doubt that
this performance gives us the best opportunity of admiring as in
apotheosis the beauty of the human form, and this is the reason why
the idea of placing young girls upon the trapeze was so quickly
grasped. With the advent of woman, passion and crime made their
appearance in the serene atmosphere of the aerial realms; which,
like the republic of Aristophanes’ _Birds_, extend beyond the reach
of human perversity. You have all felt the anxiety which seizes the
heart during the _flight supported_ (_voltige en porteurs_), when
one of these young girls hangs by the feet to her trapeze—hushes the
music, and in the sudden silence calls to her companion—
“_Are you ready?_”
The youngest of the two acrobats is mounted upon her [p263] saddle;
with eye and muscle strained she watches the trapeze, which advances
towards her in waves of rhythmical movements approaching nearer each
time.
[Illustration]
Suddenly the word is given—
“_Go!_”
[Illustration]
The youthful body launched by the trapeze like a stone from a sling,
crosses the whole width of the circus, and the [p264] flying girl
clasps the hands of her companion. The shock causes the two bodies
to sway together for an instant, then they free themselves, and
with a double somersault reach the net. You can imagine how easily
a jealous girl can rid herself of a rival in those few minutes. An
imperceptible movement of the loins, the delay of one-tenth of a
second, and the girl flying through space is condemned to death.
This misfortune recently happened through an accident, but there are
some criminal cases of it. One of these incidents has been related
already. The two heroines were called “Ohia” and “Nella.” The
advertisement styled them “sisters,” but they were only companions in
their aerial work. They detested each other with the indescribable
artist-jealousy, in spite of their entry hand in hand and their stage
smiles. It happened that the applause was warmer for Nella, the
vaulter, than for Ohia who caught her; and on this [p265] account
the miserable girl hated her companion so intensely that she resolved
to kill her.
One day, therefore, when after the great spring Ohia grasped Nella by
her hands, an abrupt movement suddenly precipitated the young girl
outside the net.
Fortunately the shock was not too violent to allow Nella to catch
hold of the cord as she fell. She remained suspended, dazzled for one
moment, clinging to the saving line.
Ohia was still swinging in the friezes. Warned by the shouts of the
audience that her scheme had failed, she made one tremendous spring,
traversed the whole width of the circus, and fell shattered upon the
palisades of the arena. Thus another proverb, also current in the
side-scenes of the circus, was verified, and this time the whole
world may take warning from it—“If you value your bones, never work
with wine or with a woman.”
I once questioned some celebrated acrobats upon a subject which
piques the curiosity of the public.
We all know by experience that Eves love well-made Adams. I do not
mean the “mashers” with girls’ faces, but men built like the old
statues, with supple limbs and broad chests. From this point of
view, the gymnast who acquires strength without losing his agility,
seems an ideal lover. I therefore asked them to tell me in friendly
sincerity if they found many scented notes in their dressing-room
every evening.
“I am sure,” replied Alphonse, the elder of the two friends, the
orator of the pair, “that we receive quite as many love-letters, as
the tenors do. From this you may conclude, if you like, that there
is exactly the same number of practical women as of sentimental
ones, unless the same individuals write to the [p266] tenors and the
gymnasts—and this seems very probable to me.”
[Illustration]
“And in what terms do you answer these passionate advances, my dear
Alphonse?” [p267]
“We throw the letters into the fire without reading them,” replied
the acrobat.
[Illustration]
“You are afraid of being tempted?”
“Of course all excess is forbidden us. No one must mount into the
friezes without a perfectly clear head. It is too easy to miss a
spring and break one’s neck, even by falling into the net—which is
more useful for reassuring the audience and the police than for
anything else. But this is not our only reason for avoiding women.
Ask Adolphe’s opinion on the point.” [p268]
“We do not like women because they are badly made,” replied his
comrade, with a grimace of disgust.
I could not help smiling.
[Illustration]
“Well, my friend,” I replied, “I think you are speaking of them like
a jealous artist; you object to them because, with very limited
skill, by the exhibition of their bodies flying through the air they
attract as much applause as you do with all your artistic dexterity.
It is not personal dislike in your case, as you seem to think—it is
trade jealousy.”
At this Alphonse interposed.
“Adolph is right,” he answered. “Women are badly made. A woman
is not an object of art, but of use. Look at her hips—how they
exceed the falling line of the shoulders, crush the short legs
and destroy all proportion by their excessive width. This defect
requires concealment by some drapery, [p269] and should prohibit the
exhibition of the nude. On the other hand the strength of the body,
which in a woman lies in her hips, a man carries in his shoulders.
Atlas bears the weight of the world upon his neck. Get up, Adolph,
and show us your back.”
[Illustration]
His friend was smoking, but he quietly laid down his cigarette, and
took off his shirt. Alphonse looked at him for an instant, admiring
him with the enjoyment of an artist, a smile on his lips.
“You can put that fellow,” he said, “into the ideal oval of the egg
upon which Greek sculpture has inscribed the hermaphrodite, and you
will see whether his shoulders destroy the classic lines of sexless
beauty.” I have often heard these æsthetic truths expressed by other
trapeze artists more coarsely and with less appreciation of art.
[p270]
[Illustration]
After an interval of some centuries, the life of the gymnasium has
revived the customs which astonish modern readers in the _Banquet_.
This surprise is unworthy of philosophers. It is logical that
throughout all ages the same causes should produce the same effects.
The woman of antiquity remained in the gynæceum, and she was rarely
seen by the outer world.
Woman is banished from modern gymnasiums by her natural destination
of wife, mother, and nurse.
The Greek youth became enamoured of the _ephebe_ in the gymnasium,
where they appeared nude and beautiful.
Modern gymnasts admire their fellow-workers in their [p271]
dangerous performances with equal enthusiasm. And it would show
little knowledge of human nature if we inquire how the admiration for
beauty becomes transformed into the wish to possess it, that is, into
love.
[Illustration] [p272]
[Illustration]
I write the word without fear of any misunderstanding.
[Illustration]
We are now contemplating simple, healthy men who pass [p273] their
lives in performing very hard work, and who are freed from sensual
temptation by physical fatigue. As a rule, [p274] therefore, the
passions of gymnasts are purely sentimental and platonic; you
will find in them first of all the great element of all love—the
protection of the weak by the strong. There is, in fact, in every
pair of acrobats, a male and a female, the “hero” or bearer, the “man
underneath” who supports the weight of the whole “act,” to whom the
“man above” confides his life. The latter is the younger, the most
supple and graceful of the two. He receives the larger share of the
applause, the most enthusiastic “bravos.” His existence depends upon
the self-sacrifice and affection of the man who upholds him.
“We must rely upon each other,” said one of the Hanlons to me one
day, referring to their young comrade, “Bob,” the favourite of the
whole troupe.
Translated:
“We must love each other like the youthful soldiers of the Theban
legion, like Castor and Pollux, to whom legend has never assigned any
mistress.”
This conviction of the superior, absolute beauty of man is so bound
up in the customs of the gymnasium, that you will find that all men
of high culture who devote themselves to physical exercises, acquire
with their attachment to the trapeze, the same æsthetic views. The
most illustrious example that I can quote on this point is certainly
Pierre Loti.
You have read his novel of _Azyadé_, and you know the enthusiasm
with which he speaks of the gymnasium. Remember, on the other hand,
the tenderness of the novel-writer for _Frère Yvres_, recall the
_Pêcheurs d’Islande_ clinging to the helm of their boat, and you will
more easily realize the [p275] discipline by which gymnastics lead
an acrobat who cares for his profession, to the æsthetic admiration
for man.
For my own part until I read the works of Pierre Loti, I never
thoroughly understood the epithet which Pindar throws in the face of
an Olympian victor in a lyrical antistrophe—
“Oh, barren gymnastics!” . . . . .
[Illustration]
FOOTNOTES:
[12] Originated by “Little Bob” Hanlon.
[Illustration]
[p277] [Illustration]