as they could sit down to table in different order. How many dinners
would be necessary for that purpose? It may be easily found, by the
rules already given, that the club must dine together 5040 times,
before they would exhaust all the arrangements possible, which would
require about thirteen years.
BASKET AND STONES.
If a hundred stones be placed in a straight line, at the distance of
a yard from each other, the first being at the same distance from a
basket, how many yards must the person walk who engages to pick them
up, one by one, and put them into the basket? It is evident that, to
pick up the first stone, and put it into the basket, the person must
walk two yards; for the second, he must walk four; for the third,
six; and so on, increasing by two, to the hundredth. The number of
yards which the person must walk, will be equal to the sum of the
progression, 2, 4, 6, etc., the last term of which is 200, (22).
But the sum of the progression is equal to 202, the sum of the two
extremes, multiplied by 50, or half the number of terms: that is to
say, 10,100 yards, which makes more than 5½ miles.
LIVING PICTURES.
There are few better amusements for a large party in the same house,
with plenty of time on their hands, than the organization of _Tableaux
vivants_. Tableaux, to be successfully represented, demand quite as
much attention to detail, and scarcely less careful rehearsal, than a
theatrical performance. The first element of success is a competent
stage manager. His artistic taste should be beyond all question, and
his will should be law among the members of his corps. The essentials
of a “living picture” are very much the same as those of a picture of
the inanimate description, viz., form, color, and arrangement. If,
therefore, you can secure for the office of stage manager a gentleman
of some artistic skill, by all means do so, as his technical knowledge
will be found of the greatest possible service.
Before proceeding to plan your series of pictures, it will be
necessary to provide the “frame” in which they are to be exhibited.
If the room which you propose to use has folding-doors, they will
of course be used. A curtain, preferably of some dark color, should
be hung on each side, and a lambrequin, or valance, across the top.
Where circumstances admit, the directions we give elsewhere as to the
construction of a stage and proscenium for private theatricals, may be
followed with advantage. In any case, a piece of fine gauze should be
carefully stretched over the whole length and depth of the opening.
This is found, by producing softer outlines, materially to enhance the
pictorial effect. If it is practicable to have a raised stage, it will
be found a great addition. Where this cannot be arranged, it is well to
place a board, six inches in width, and covered with the same material
as the rest of the frame, across the floor (on edge) from side to
side, in the position which the footlights would ordinarily occupy.
The next consideration will be the curtain. The ordinary domestic
curtains, hung by rings from a rod or pole, and opening in the middle,
will serve as a makeshift; but where a really artistic series of
tableaux is contemplated, the regular stage-curtain of green baize is
decidedly to be preferred.
The question of “background” will be the next point to be attended to.
_Tableaux vivants_ may be divided into two classes, the _dramatic_,
_i. e._, representing some incident, _e. g._, a duel, or a trial in
a court of justice; and the simply _artistic_, viz., such as portray
merely a group, allegorical or otherwise, without reference to any
particular plot or story. For the former, an appropriate scene is
required, varying with each tableau represented; for the latter, all
that is necessary is a simple background of drapery, of such a tone of
color as to harmonize with, and yet to give full prominence to, the
group of actors. The material of the latter, as also the covering of
the floor, should be of woolen or velvet, so as to absorb rather than
reflect light. A lustrous background, as of satin or glazed calico,
will completely destroy the effect of an otherwise effective _tableau_.
The lighting is a point of very considerable importance—the conditions
appropriate to an ordinary theatrical performance being here reversed.
In an ordinary dramatic performance all shadow is a thing to be
avoided, the point aimed at being to secure a strong bright light,
uniformly distributed over the stage. In a _tableau vivant_, on the
contrary, the skilful manipulation of light and shade is a valuable aid
in producing artistic effect. Footlights should, in this case, either
be dispensed with altogether, or at any rate used very sparingly,
the stronger light coming from one or the other side. A good deal
of experiment, and some little artistic taste, will be necessary to
attain the right balance in this particular. Where gas is available,
it will afford the readiest means of illumination. What is called
“string-light,” viz., a piece of gaspipe with fishtail burners at
frequent intervals, connected with the permanent gas arrangements of
the house by a piece of india-rubber tube, and fixed in a vertical
position behind each side of the temporary proscenium, will be found
very effective; one or the other set of lights being turned up as may
be necessary. Where a green or red light is desired, the interposition
of a strip of glass of that color, or of a “medium” of red or green
silk or tammy, will give the necessary tone. Colored fires are supplied
for the same purpose, but are subject to the drawback of being somewhat
odoriferous in combustion. Where, as is sometimes the case, a strong
white light is required, this may be produced by burning the end of a
piece of magnesium wire in the flame of an ordinary candle.
These points being disposed of, costume and make-up will be the next
consideration. As to the latter, the reader will find full instructions
in the chapter devoted to private theatricals. With respect to costume,
as the characters are only seen for a few moments, and in one position,
this point may be dealt with in a much more rough-and-ready manner than
would be advisable in the case of a regular dramatic performance. The
royal crown need only be golden—the royal robe need only be trimmed
with ermine—on the side toward the spectators; indeed, the proudest
of sovereigns, from the audience point of view, may, as seen from
the rear, be the humblest of citizens. Even on the side toward the
spectators a great deal of “make-believe” is admissible. Seen through
the intervening gauze, the cheapest cotton velvet is equal to the
richest silk; glazed calico takes the place of satin; and even the
royal ermine may be admirably simulated by tails of black worsted
stitched on a ground of flannel. Laces may be manufactured from cut
paper, and a dollar’s worth of tinsel will afford jewels for a congress
of sovereigns. Of course, there is not the least objection to his
wearing a crown of the purest gold, or diamonds of the finest possible
water (if he can get them), but they will not look one whit more
effective than the homely substitutes we have mentioned.
A “ghost effect” may, where necessary, be produced by the aid of a
magic lantern; the other lights of the tableau being lowered in order
to give sufficient distinctness to the reflection.
Dramatic tableaux may often be exhibited with advantage in two or more
“scenes;” the curtain being lowered for a moment in order to enable the
characters to assume a fresh position. Examples of this will be found
among the tableaux which follow.
Having indicated the general arrangements of _tableaux vivants_, we
append, for the reader’s assistance, a selection of effective subjects,
both simply pictorial, and dramatic.
I. DIGNITY AND IMPUDENCE.
(_With background of plain drapery, remaining unchanged._)
A magnificent flunkey, in a gorgeous suit of livery, standing (with
left hand on hip, right hand in breast), side by side with a very small
and saucy “boy in buttons,” upon whom he looks down superciliously. Boy
with both hands in trouser-pockets, and gazing up at his companion with
an expression of impertinent familiarity.
II. THE FORTUNE-TELLER.
A pretty girl, in simple outdoor costume, standing sideways to the
spectators, with downcast eyes, and a half-smiling, half-frightened
expression. The fortune-teller faces her, and holds the young lady’s
right hand in her left, while her own right holds a coin with which she
is apparently tracing the lines of the young lady’s palm, at the same
time gazing with an arch expression into her face, as though to note
the effect of her predictions. The fortune-teller should be in gipsy
costume, a short, dark skirt, and a hood of some brighter material
thrown carelessly over her head. She should be of a swarthy complexion,
with a good deal of color, and jet-black hair.
III. FAITH.
A large cross, apparently of white marble (really of deal, well washed
with whitening and size) occupies a diagonal position across the centre
of the stage, facing slightly towards the left. Its base or plinth
is formed of two or three successive platforms or steps of the same
material. At the foot a woman kneels, clasping her arms around the
cross, as though she had just thrown herself into that position in
escaping from some danger. Her gaze should be directed upwards. A loose
brown robe and hood, the latter thrown back off the head, will be the
most appropriate costume. Magnesium light from above.
IV. HOPE.
A female figure, clothed in sober gray, and seated on a very low
stool, facing R., and gazing heavenwards. (If a “sky” background is
procurable, a single star should be visible, and should be the object
of her gaze.) Her right elbow rests upon her right knee, and her right
hand supports her chin. Her left hand hangs by her side, and at her
feet lies the emblematic anchor. Red light, not too strong.
V. CHARITY.
A ragged boy, barefooted, and clasping a worn-out broom, sits huddled
on the ground L., but facing R. His arms are folded and rest on his
knees, and his head is bent down upon them, so as to hide his face. A
girl, in nun’s costume, is touching him on the shoulder, and apparently
proffering help and sympathy.
VI. SINGLE LIFE.
Scene, a tolerably well-furnished but untidy sitting-room, with
numerous traces of bachelor occupation, such as crossed foils on the
wall, a set of boxing-gloves under a side-table; boots, hats, and
walking-sticks lying about in various directions. On one corner of the
table some one has apparently breakfasted in rather higgledy-piggledy
fashion. Near the table sits a young man, with a short pipe in his
mouth, and one foot bare, while he is endeavoring to darn an extremely
dilapidated sock.
VII. THE SAILOR’S FAREWELL.
Scene, a cottage home. A young man, in sailor costume, and with a
bundle on his shoulder, stands with his right hand on the latch of the
door, R.C., but looking back with a sorrowful expression at his wife
(personated by a young lady in short black or blue skirt, red or white
blouse, and white mob-cap), who sits with her apron up to her eyes
in an apparent agony of grief. Three children are present, the two
elder crying for sympathy, the youngest sitting in a crib or cradle,
and amusing himself with some toy, in apparent unconsciousness of his
father’s approaching departure. Soft blue light from L. Music, “The
Minstrel Boy.”
VIII. HOME AGAIN.
The same scene. Children a couple of years older. (This may be effected
by suppressing the youngest, and introducing a fresh eldest, as much
like the others as possible.) The sailor of the last scene, slightly
more tanned, and with a fuller, “made-up” beard, has apparently just
entered. The wife has both arms round his neck, her face being hidden
in his bosom. Of the children, the eldest has seized and is kissing her
father’s hand, while the two younger each cling round one leg. Soft
red light. Music, “A Lass that Loves a Sailor,” or “When Johnny comes
Marching Home Again.”
VARIOUS TABLEAUX.
We have not space to give the complete _mise en scène_ of a larger
number of tableaux, but subjoin a list of favorite subjects, leaving
their actual arrangement to the taste and intelligence of the reader.
It will usually be safe to follow the hints in good illustrations.
“Choosing the Wedding Gown.” A charming scene, after Mulready, from the
“Vicar of Wakefield.”
“William Penn Signing the Treaty with the Indians.”
“Scene from ‘Pickwick.’” Mr. Pickwick, with Mrs. Bardell in his arms,
surprised by his four friends, whose countenances are just visible in
the open door-way. See illustrations to “Pickwick Papers.”
“The Drunkard’s Home,” “Signing the Pledge.” “The Temperance Home.” See
some good illustrations.
“Mary Queen of Scots and the Four Maries.”
“Mr. Pecksniff Dismissing Tom Pinch.”
“The Song of the Shirt.”
“Little Red Riding-Hood.”
“The Duel from the ‘Corsican Brothers.’”
“Héloïse in her Cell.”
“William Tell Shooting the Apple from his Son’s Head.”
Etc., etc., etc.
THE WAXWORKS GALLERY.
This capital form of amusement has attained great and deserved
popularity. It shares with Living Pictures the merit of giving
employment to several performers at once, and has the special advantage
of being far more easily organized. The idea is that of a Waxwork
Exhibition, the characters being personated, after a burlesque
fashion, by living performers. Each “figure” is first duly described
by the exhibitor, and then “wound up,” and made to go through certain
characteristic movements.
The collection is supposed to be that of the far-famed Mrs. Jarley,
of “Old Curiosity Shop” celebrity. She may be assisted, if thought
desirable, by “Little Nell,” and a couple of man-servants, John and
Peter. The costume of Mrs. Jarley is a black or chintz dress, bright
shawl, and huge bonnet; that of Little Nell may be a calico dress, and
white apron, with hat slung over her arm. John and Peter may be dressed
in livery suits, and should be provided with a watchman’s rattle,
screw-driver, hammer, nails, and oil-can. At the rise of the curtain
the figures are seen ranged in a semicircle at the back of the stage,
and Little Nell is discovered dusting them with a long feather brush.
Mrs. Jarley stands in front, and delivers her descriptive orations,
directing her men to bring forward each figure before she describes it.
After having been duly described, the figure is “wound” up, and goes
through its peculiar movement, and when it stops it is moved back to
its place.
If the stage is small, or it is desired that the same actors shall
appear in various characters in succession, the figures may be
exhibited in successive groups or compartments, the curtain being
lowered to permit one party to retire, and another to take their
places. After the whole of the figures of a given chamber have been
described, the assistants wind them all up, and they go through their
various movements simultaneously, to a pianoforte accompaniment, which
should gradually grow faster, coming at last to a sudden stop, when the
figures become motionless, and the curtain falls.
If it is found impracticable to procure a lady to deliver the
descriptions effectively, Mrs. Jarley may be made a silent character,
sitting on one side, and occasionally making believe to dust or
arrange a figure, while the “patter” is delivered by a male exhibitor.
Or Mrs. Jarley may, if preferred, be suppressed altogether, and the
exhibitor appear as (say) Artemus Ward, or in ordinary evening costume,
without assuming any special character. A good deal of fun may be made
of the supposed tendency of any particular figure to tip over, and
the application, by John and Peter, of wooden wedges, penny pieces,
etc., under its feet to keep it upright. Supposed defective working,
causing the figure to stop suddenly in the middle of its movement, and
involving the re-winding or oiling of its internal mechanism, will
also produce a good deal of amusement. The “winding up” may be done
with a bed-winch, a bottle-jack key, or the winch of a kitchen range,
the click of the mechanism being imitated by means of a watchman’s
rattle, or by the even simpler expedient of drawing a piece of hard
wood smartly along a notched stick. (This, of course, should be done
out of sight of the audience.) The movement of the figure should be
accompanied by the piano, to a slow or lively measure, as may be most
appropriate.
The arrangement being complete, and the curtain raised, Mrs. Jarley
delivers her opening speech, about as follows:—
“Ladies and Gentlemen,—You here behold Mrs. Jarley! one of the most
remarkable women of the world, who has traveled all over the country
with her curious Collection of Waxworks. These figures have been
gathered, at great expense, from every clime and country, and are here
shown together for the first time. I shall describe each one of them
for your benefit, and, after I have given you their history, I shall
have each one of them wound up, for they are all fitted with clockwork
inside, and they can thus go through the same motions they did when
living. In fact, they execute their movements so naturally that many
people have supposed them to be alive; but I assure you that they are
all made of wood and wax;—blockheads every one.
“Without further prelude, I shall now introduce to your notice each one
of my figures, beginning, as usual, with the last one first.”
I. THE CHINESE GIANT.
A man or woman standing on a high stool, chintz skirt
round the waist, long enough to hide the stool, Chinese
over-dress, hat, pig-tail, and moustache.
“This figure is universally allowed to be the tallest figure in
my collection; he originated in the two provinces of Oolong and
Shang-high, one province not being long enough to produce him. On
account of his extreme length it is impossible to give any adequate
idea of him in one entertainment; consequently he will be continued in
our next.
“He was the inventor, projector, and discoverer of Niagara Falls,
Bunker’s Hill Monument, and the Balm of Columbia. In fact, everything
was originally discovered by him or some other of the Chinese. The
portrait of this person, who was a high dignitary among them, may be
often seen depicted on a blue china plate, standing upon a bridge,
which leans upon nothing at either end, and intently observing two
birds which are behind him in the distance.
“John, wind up the Giant.”
The Giant bows low, then wags his head three times, and bows as before,
and after a dozen motions slowly stops.
“You will observe that I have spared no expense in procuring wonders of
every sort, and here is my crowning effort or master-piece.”
II. THE TWO-HEADED GIRL.
“A remarkable freak of Nature, which impresses the beholder with silent
awe. ‘Observe the two heads and one body.’ ‘See these fair faces,
each one lovelier than the other.’ No one can gaze upon them without
a double sensation ‘of sorrow and of joy’—sorrow that such beauty
and grace were ever united, and joy that he has had the pleasure of
contemplating their union.
“Wind them up, Peter.”
This figure is made by two young ladies standing back to back wrapped
in one large skirt. They hold their arms out with their hands hanging,
and slowly revolve when they are wound up.
III. THE SEWING WOMAN.
“John, bring out the Sewing Woman, and let the ladies behold the
unfortunate seamstress who died from pricking her finger with a needle
while sewing on Sunday. You see that the work which she holds is
stained with gore, which drips from her finger on to the floor. (Which
is poetry!) This forms a sad and melancholy warning to all heads of
families immediately to purchase the best sewing-machines, for this
accident never could have happened had she not been without one of
those excellent machines, as no family should be.”
Costume.—Optional.
When wound up the figure sews very stiffly and stops slowly.
IV. CAPTAIN KIDD AND HIS VICTIM.
“Ladies and Gentlemen,—Permit me to call your attention to this
beautiful group, which has lately been added at an enormous expense to
my collection. You here behold the first privateer and the first victim
of his murderous propensities. Captain Kidd, the robber of the main, is
supposed to have originated somewhere down east. His whole life being
spent upon the stormy deep, he amassed an immense fortune, and buried
it in the sand along the flower-clad banks of Cape Cod, by which course
he invented the Savings Banks, now so common along shore. Having hidden
away so much property, which, like so many modern investments, never
can be unearthed, he was known as a great sea-cretur. Before him kneels
his lovely and innocent victim, the Lady Blousabella Infantina, who was
several times taken and murdered by this bloodthirsty tyrant, which
accounts for the calm look of resignation depicted upon her lovely
countenance.
“Wind ’em up, John.”
Costumes.—Captain Kidd—White pantaloons, blue shirt, sailor hat,
pistol, and sword.
Victim.—Lady with flowing hair, white dress.
Movement.—The Captain’s sword moves up and down, and the victim’s arms
go in unison.
V. THE SIAMESE TWINS.
Two gentlemen dressed alike in ordinary costume; with a large bone
(attached by wire or string) between them. One arm of each over the
other’s neck. Pugnacious expression of countenance.
“The Wonderful Siamese Twins compose the next group. These remarkable
brothers lived together in the greatest harmony, though there was
always a bone of contention between them. They were never seen apart,
such was their brotherly fondness. They married young, both being
opposed to a single life. The short one is not quite so tall as his
brother, although their ages are about the same. One of them was born
in the Island of Borneo, the other on the southern extremity of Cape
Cod.”
When wound up they begin to fight, continue for a moment, and stop
suddenly.
VI. THE CELEBRATED DWARF.
Boy with red cloak, long white wig, bowl and spoon.
“This wonderful child has created some interest in the medical and
scientific world, from the fact that he was thirteen years old when he
was born, and kept on growing older and older until he died, at the
somewhat advanced age of two hundred and ninety-seven, in consequence
of eating too freely of pies and cakes, his favorite food. He measured
exactly two feet and seven inches from the crown of his head to the
sole of his foot, and two feet and ten inches back again. Was first
discovered ten miles from any land, and twelve miles from any water,
making the enormous total of ninety-one, which figure was never before
reached by any previous exhibition. Wind him up, John.”
Dwarf eats very stiffly with a large spoon in his right hand; in his
left hand he holds a bowl, which falls on the floor after a moment, and
is broken.
“John, get your tools and screw up that dwarfs hand, for it has become
so loose that it costs a fortune for the crockery he breaks.”
John screws up the hand, gets a new bowl, and again winds up the
figure, which now moves with much greater energy.
VII. THE VOCALIST.
“Bring out the Vocalist. I now call your attention to the most costly
of all my figures. This wonderful automaton singer represents Signorina
Squallini, the unrivaled Vocalist, whose notes are current in every
market, and sway all hearts, at her own sweet will.
“Wind her up, and let her liquid notes pour forth.”
She gesticulates wildly, and sings a few notes in a very extravagant
manner, then stops with a hoarse sound.
Mrs. J.—“John, this figure needs oiling. Why do you not attend to your
duties better?”
John gets oil-can, which he applies to each ear of the figure, which
strikes a high note, and sings with much expression and many trills,
then makes a gurgling sound, as if running down, and suddenly stops
again.
Costume.—Evening dress.
VIII. THE YANKEE.
Description.—A tall, thin man, clean shaven but for a tuft on chin,
dressed in black, with broad-brimmed straw hat. He is seated on a low
rocking-chair, with his legs resting on the back of another chair. He
holds a wooden stick, which he is whittling with a jack-knife.