Chapter M: E. James: ‘How to Decorate our Ceilings, Walls, and Floors.’ (47)

(_b_) In May mayonnaises de saumon, mayonnaises de homard, crevettes au naturel, aspics aux œufs de pluviers. Chapons à la Béchamel, pintades piquées, poulets et langue, jambons glacés, galantines de bœuf, pâtés froids variés. Poulardes rôties, salades à l’Italienne. Gelées et crèmes, blancmanges, corbeilles aux meringues, corbeilles de pâtisseries, gateaux Napolitains, gâteau de Savoie glacé. Glaces: fraises à la crème, oranges à l’eau. Bride cake. Dessert. All cold.

(_c_) Wines: Moselle, champagne, hock, sherry, claret. Botage: à la reine, à la printanière. Croquettes d’huîtres, escallopes de ris de veau aux champignons, cotelettes d’agneau aux petits pois. Dinde farçi à la Périgord, pâté de gibier à l’Anglaise, langues glacées, jambons glacés, poulets rôtis aux cresson, ptarmigans rôtis, pâté de foies gras aux truffes, boudins de homard à la Belle Vue, aspic de crevettes à la Russe, mayonnaise de saumon. Salades de homards: Gelée à la Lorne, gelée à l’Eugénie, gelée à la Macédoine, crème à la Sicilienne, crème de fraises, bavarois d’ananas, gâteau de millefeuilles, meringue à la Christophe, petites meringues à la Chantilly. Glaces: Crème d’ananas, eau de cerises.

(_d_) Consommé à la d’Esclignac; purée de perdreaux à la crème. Côtelettes d’Agneau aux concombres; suprême de poulets aux truffes. Langue de bœuf garnie d’Ecrevisses; pâté de coq de bruyère; balotines d’Agneau; poulets rôtis aux cresson; galantines de volaille; mayonnaise de homard; jambon en salade. Petits gateaux à la Génoise; macédoine de fruit à la gelée; pain d’Abricots au noyau; Charlottes à la Bohémienne; pâtisseries meringuées. Eau d’Ananas; crème framboise; crème de vanille.

_Afternoon Dance._--The refreshments usually provided for an afternoon dance would be brown and white bread and butter, pound and plum cakes, sponge fingers, and biscuits. Sandwiches of various kinds are also much appreciated, particularly by guests coming from a distance, and of these perhaps the following are as nice as any: ham and tongue, lettuce and anchovy (a little of the latter), or delicate slices of hard-boiled egg and lettuce, with a touch of anchovy added. Fruit knives and forks should be laid in each plate ready for using for peaches, pineapples, &c. Grapes should be among the fruit provided. Ices, iced coffee, and various “cups” are generally seen at afternoon dances, such as champagne or claret. There should be 2 or 3 dishes of each kind of refreshment at intervals down the table. (F. Lilian.)

_Lawn Party._--It is usual to have hot tea, coffee, cakes, brown bread and butter, fruit and cream, at a lawn party. Iced coffee is not necessary, but much liked in hot weather. It is made as follows. To 1 qt. very strong coffee add 1 pint cream and ½ pint milk, and sugar to taste. Put all into a freezing tin, and freeze until a little thick; serve in a silver kettle or soup tureen. (A. H.)

_Cinderella Supper._--(_a_) Watercress sandwiches, sardine sandwiches, anchovy sandwiches, devilled eggs, salad, coffee jelly, orange cream, sweet biscuits, sponge cakes, claret cup, lemonade soup. (_b_) Boned turkeys, lobster salads, chicken sandwiches, shrimp sandwiches, tongue sandwiches, veal croquettes, oyster patties. Ices, jellies, and creams, claret cup, claret, and a good lemonade; also some fruit and a selection of fancy confectionery such as will not soil the glove; candied walnuts, plums, &c., are much liked. (_c_) The great points to aim at in giving a Cinderella supper, as a sequel to the fashionable Cinderella dances, are elegance and lightness, combined with economy.

SUPPLEMENTARY LITERATURE.

Edward Smith: ‘Foods.’ London, 1880. 5_s._

Mrs. Loftie: ‘The Dining Room.’ London, 1878. 2_s._ 6_d._

John Perkins: ‘Floral Designs for the Table.’ London, 1877. 5_s._

‘The Book of Dinner Serviettes.’ London, 1876.

_THE DRAWING-ROOM._

The drawing-room is the scene of almost all social gatherings, whether dancing, theatricals, games, or other amusements be provided.

=Etiquette.=--This chapter cannot commence more appropriately than with a few remarks on the customs observed in society and the rules which regulate visits and parties. To enter fully into all these matters would occupy a very large amount of space. Those requiring more detail cannot do better than consult the weekly pages of the _Queen_, in which excellent journal often appear articles on the latest fashionable customs, and where an inquiry from one in doubt is sure to meet with a polite reply giving the necessary information.

_Styles and Titles._--It seems difficult to make it clear to the understandings of many persons that it is incorrect, in speaking of an earl’s, marquis’s, or duke’s daughter, to omit her Christian name. They must know that she is habitually styled Lady Clara Vere, yet they persist in calling her Lady Vere, as if she were a peeress or a baronet’s wife, instead of a “lady in her own right.” Another equally common blunder is to speak of a baronet’s wife as Lady Emma Jones; if for purposes of identification it is necessary to mention her Christian name at all, it should be as Emma Lady Jones, as nothing but being the daughter of a peer higher in rank than a viscount gives the right to be called Lady Emma. Again, it is impossible to persuade some people that it is the sons of dukes and marquises only who are called lords; they persist in imagining that because earls’ daughters are styled lady, it is impossible that their younger brothers should be only Hon. Mr. The title of dowager is another great stumbling-block. In propriety it should only be borne by the mother of the reigning peer or baronet. Should, therefore, a peer (let us call him Earl of Brighton) succeed his father, his mother, the widowed countess, should be styled the Countess Dowager of Brighton. Should he, however, succeed to his uncle, brother, or cousin, that relative’s widow would have no claim to the title of dowager, but should be addressed as Mary, Countess of Brighton. It is a very common saying that a woman may rise in rank, but can never lose what she has once possessed; but, like many common sayings, this, though the general rule, is not strictly accurate. A duke’s daughter takes precedence far before the wife of a baron. Yet if she marry a baron who is a peer in his own right (not merely a title of courtesy, such as are borne by peers’ eldest sons), she at once, on becoming his wife, loses her own rank, and has no precedence, save that of her husband.

_Shaking hands._--You would not shake hands on being casually introduced to a person altogether a stranger to you, but yet there are so many occasions when it is both proper and correct to shake hands on first being introduced, and the rule on this head is a very elastic one. For instance, a host and hostess invariably shake hands with every stranger introduced to them at their house. You would shake hands on being introduced to the relatives of your relations by marriage, such as your sister-in-law’s sister or your sister-in-law’s mother; with your brother-in-law’s brother or father; with your future husband’s uncle and aunt or cousins; with a brother or sister or mother of an intimate friend; or under any similar circumstances. If you do not shake hands on being introduced, ought you to do so on departure? That depends. There are occasions when to shake hands would be polite; and there are occasions when your hand would be _de trop_. If you had enjoyed conversation to any extent with some one to whom you had been introduced, and found you were getting on very well, and had a good deal in common, you would naturally shake hands in taking leave of each other; but if you had only exchanged a few common-place sentences, a bow would be all that is necessary. The lady usually takes the initiative, as she does with regard to bowing; but in reality it is a spontaneous movement made by both at the same moment, as the hand ought not to be extended or the bow given unless expected and instantaneously reciprocated. For a young lady suddenly to offer her hand in farewell greeting to one not prepared for the honour leads to an abrupt movement on the one part, and to a little confusion on the other. Shaking hands on taking leave is with some few people a graceful and pleasant fashion of saying good-bye. About shaking hands with acquaintances at a dinner party, or at an evening party, many are in doubt. If the dinner party is a small one, and there is time to quietly shake hands with those you know, it would be correct to do so; but if there were little time before dinner, and no good opportunity for shaking hands, bows to acquaintances at distant parts of the room, or when seated at the dinner table, would be sufficient for the time being; while at an evening party it depends upon your being able to get near enough to your friends to enable you to do so. Having once shaken hands with a person, you are of course at liberty to repeat the civility whenever you may happen to meet, unless a decided coolness of manner warns you that a bow would be more acceptable than a shake of the hand.

_Letter Writing._--To commence a letter to a comparative stranger, or to a person with whom the writer is but slightly acquainted, on any matter of interest, is the first difficulty to be got over. In all communications with strangers, or almost strangers, it would be correct to write in the third person. A very slight acquaintance, however, or a faint personal knowledge, would authorise a letter being written in the first person if it were to be of any length. Notes are principally confined to the briefest of communications, as, when they are lengthy, the repetition of the pronoun “she” and “her,” “he” and “him,” become wearisome if not involved, to say nothing of the possessive pronouns which are frequently brought into use, with the addition of surnames. When it is imperative to write in the third person, it is most desirable to construct each sentence with care and with due regard to an extravagant use of pronouns, and never at any time to resort to the vulgar expedient of attempting a sort of compromise by making the initial letter of the writer, and of the person written to, do duty for their respective surnames. To frame a note without introducing “compliments” at its commencement is the received mode of writing one. The subject under discussion does not require this preliminary introduction, and it is best to embody it in the opening sentence. There are few people careless or ignorant enough to lapse from the third person into the first in the course of a short note; but still it is worth guarding against. To turn from notes to letters, again it is observable that a cramped style, or a small Italian handwriting, are no longer in vogue, and, when seen, appear very much out of date. The prevailing style of writing is bold and free, the characters very upright, and tall toppling “l’s” and long-tailed “g’s” have quite disappeared from letters in general; a free use of capitals is also indulged in, which gives a dash of originality and spirit to a letter when not overdone. Many gentlemen and a few ladies affect a literary style of letter writing--that is to say, a margin ¾-1 in. wide is left on the near side of the sheet of paper, which gives rather an imposing look to it; but this is only done when the letter is almost a note in the matter of length. A strictly business habit, adopted for the convenience of being copied by letter-press, by no means a fashionable one, is to write on the first and third pages of a sheet of note paper, leaving the second and fourth pages blank, or to write on the first and fourth pages, leaving the other two; but some people fall into the mistake of doing this under the impression that it is rather fine, whereas it is very much the reverse. Some little care should be taken in paragraphing a letter to avoid incoherency. Thus, a fresh line and a capital should be allowed to each new subject. As much variety is introduced into the letters of the present day as possible; thus, should a sentence or a remark require to be referred to, the eye can at once light upon it without re-reading the whole epistle. It used to be an idea that to underline words in a letter was “missish” in the extreme, and rather bad style than not: but now, if a writer wishes to be very emphatic, or to call particular attention to any remark, an additional stroke of the pen is not objected to; but it is a liberty not to be taken when writing to those with whom one is on ceremony. Another practice of the past, which is now happily discarded, is that of crossing letters. Many people experience a certain difficulty in the choice of a conventional term with which to conclude a ceremonious letter, and it must be admitted that there is not much variety at command, “yours truly,” “yours sincerely,” “yours faithfully,” with the addition perhaps of the adverb “very,” being the principal formulas in use; and it is on the whole immaterial whether “truly” or “sincerely” is employed when writing to friends. The affectionate expressions addressed to still dearer friends and relations are beside the question, and yet many devoted husbands make use of the words “yours truly” when writing to their wives, in preference to any more affectionate phrase. By way of not concluding a letter too abruptly, it is usual, before the words “yours truly,” to add one or other of such phrases as these: “Believe me, dear Mrs. Jones,” or “I remain, dear Mrs. Jones,” or “Believe me, dear Mrs. Jones, with kind regards,” and this gives a certain finish and completeness to a letter which would otherwise be wanting.

A few words as to the actual composition of a letter. It should always be borne in mind that if a letter has a purpose, a reason, or an object for being written, this fact should not be lost sight of, or overweighted with a mass of extraneous matter. Again, it is idle to devote the first page of a letter to trivial excuses for not having written sooner, when no particular reason existed why a still longer delay in writing might not have been allowed to elapse, if it suited the convenience of the writer. Of course, when a letter requires an immediate answer, it is then a matter of politeness to give the reason for the omission, but this should be explained without circumlocution, and other matters should at once be referred to. A want of punctuation in a letter will often cause a sentence or paragraph to be misunderstood, and made to convey the reverse of what was intended. Notes of interrogation should not be omitted from a letter when questions are asked, though many consider it a waste of time to make use of them. Notes of exclamation, when required, materially assist the clearer understanding of a passage, which, without them, might have a vague meaning. It is not the fashion in these days to accuse oneself of writing a stupid letter, a dull letter, or an uninteresting letter, one’s friends are only too likely to take one at one’s own valuation, and to endorse the written verdict; while the solecism of laying the blame of bad writing on pens, ink, and paper is confined to the servants’ hall, where writing materials are perhaps not always of the best quality, and seldom ready to hand. In answering a letter, it is a great proof of a poor imagination, besides being extremely tedious, when each paragraph of the letter under treatment is minutely paraphrased. Questions naturally demand answers, and important facts call for comment; but trivial remarks and observations, perhaps pleasantly put, were never expected to be returned to their author with poor platitudes attached to them.

A postscript was formerly supposed to convey the pith or gist of a lady’s letter--a poor compliment, it must be confessed, to her intelligence; it is now considered a vulgarism to put P.S. at the bottom of a letter containing the few last words, if something is remembered when the letter is concluded that should have been said, it is added without apology.

_Answering Invitations._--The extremely rude habit of not answering notes as soon as they are received is generally done from idleness and a habit of shirking trouble, though, as the answer must ultimately be written, it is hard to see what exertion is saved by not writing it at the proper time. Of the inconvenience to the sender from not receiving the answer required, no one seems to think, and there are some who labour under the delusion that it is “fine,” and increases their importance, to keep people waiting. The inconvenience to a hostess can hardly be exaggerated. Rooms are not elastic, and having asked the proper number of people, she can ask no more until she knows that some of those invited, as is generally the case in most parties, cannot come. Every day she is kept waiting lessens the time for inviting others; and then only those with whom she is sufficiently intimate to give a very short invitation. Politeness requires that an invitation to dinner should be answered _at once_; if the servant waits, it should be returned by him; if it is left, an answer should be sent at the earliest moment; if it is sent by post, the reply should be sent by the next one. It is no more trouble to write the answer at once than to wait for the next day. The only valid reason that a lady can have for delay is when her husband is out, and she is not quite sure about his engagements. Of course, if he is only out for a short time it is permissible to wait till he comes in; but if, as is sometimes the case, he is away from home for a day or two, she should answer at once to that effect, and write decisively on hearing his determination. Answers to At Homes, even when they bear the request “R.S.V.P.,” need not be sent so promptly; but as soon as it is quite clear to a lady that she cannot go, it is courteous to say so. Answers to invitations to concerts, private theatricals, or _any entertainment where the guests are to be seated_, should be sent _immediately_, as it is necessary for a hostess to know the number of chairs at her disposal. Answers to wedding invitations should also be returned immediately.

The art of making excuses is one which people much in society find it absolutely necessary to cultivate if they wish to retain any command over their own time, movements, and even property. Tact, or _savoir vivre_, is the key to this art, while frankness might certainly be termed the lock in which to place the key when making polite excuses. Frankness appeals both to the good sense and to the common sense of the one to whom it is addressed; it softens the refusal, of whatever character it may be; it gives the assurance that no slight is intended. There is one stereotyped excuse, a “previous engagement”; but between friends, and by those with whom frankness is practised, this explanation is carried a step further, and the nature of the previous engagement is mentioned, and the name of him or her with whom it is made. A downright refusal savours of ungraciousness and discourtesy; whereas a polite excuse is compassed by a little judicious temporising, which in a way breaks the force of a refusal. The difficulty of making polite excuses is sometimes increased when a verbal invitation is given to a husband and wife, and they are not able to consult as to whether they are unanimous in refusing it. The way of extrication is for the one to refer to the engagements of the other, and leave it in doubt for the moment.

Various excuses are permissible in answer to all save invitations to dinner; this must be accepted, unless a bonâ fide engagement or illness can be pleaded in excuse. Polite excuses to unwelcome requests demand even more readiness of thought and speech, as refusals to such, if not guardedly conveyed, are likely to give offence, or to create an unpleasant feeling of annoyance.

=Dancing.=--_Preparing Floors._--(_a_) A good plan is to use a little beeswax in preparing the floor for dancing. Unless it be perfectly even, a carpenter must be called in to plane away any little roughnesses, or to fill up interstices between boards with little slips of wood. When quite smooth, some beeswax must be rubbed on to one of the weighted brooms sold on purpose, and it must in this way be thoroughly worked into the boards over every part of the room, adding a little more wax when needed, but remembering that the less wax and the more labour bestowed on the floor the better it will be. When the desired polish is attained, sprinkle the floor all over with finely powdered French chalk. Cover the waxed broom by tying a piece of strong baize over it, and with this go up and down the room over and over again, until the French chalk has been well rubbed over every part; this will make the floor just right for dancing, and prevent the possibility of any slight stickiness there might be from the beeswax. As this process with the powdered chalk occasions a good deal of dust, it should be all finished some hours before the room is wanted, so as to give the dust time to settle. The room will require thorough dusting, not forgetting the upper ledges of doors, mirrors, &c., which are sometimes neglected, thereby causing a great clouding of the atmosphere as soon as dancing begins. If the room be a large one, it will take 2 men quite 2 days to polish the floor for the first time, apart from any carpentering which may be necessary. Once done, however, one day will suffice on any future occasion to put it in good dancing order; going over every part just once, first with the wax, and then with the chalk, will be quite sufficient.

(_b_) Powdered spermaceti answers well for polishing a floor, being clean and easily used; it should be sprinkled over, then rubbed, or, better still, is glided over by some one wearing thin shoes, each board being taken separately.

(_c_) Wash the boards with milk, and when dry lay on French chalk thinly but evenly all over the floor; then let 2 men scrub it hard with brushes until all signs of the chalk disappear: ½ lb. chalk will do for a large room, as if put on too thick it will soil the ladies’ dresses.

(_d_) The floor must first be planed as smooth as possible, all nail heads hammered down, well sand-papered with coarse and then fine paper, washed with new milk, and 6 hours after, dusted slightly with French chalk. A rough floor may be transformed in an hour by scraping up a common composite candle very finely, scattering it on the floor, rubbing it into the wood with your boots, and then dusting it with French chalk out of a flour dredger. White wax, and then French chalk, is best treatment for a well-stretched drugget, and the chalk will make an over-waxed parquet perfect.

_Scenting Rooms._--(_a_) When the roses fade, spread the leaves to dry, taking away those which are decayed or discoloured; then, in a jar, place alternate layers of rose leaves, lavender, scented marjoram, lemon plant, or any perfumed plant, sprinkling each layer with crushed bay salt, and pressing down very tightly. In the autumn, when there is nothing more to add, strain away any moisture, turn all out, and mix well; keep in a wide-mouthed jar with a lid, and during the winter sprinkle occasionally with eau de Cologne or other perfume; and, when wishing to scent the room, take off the lid.

(_b_) 1 lb. bay salt, 2 oz. saltpetre, both in the finest powder, a handful of sweet bay leaves cut as small as possible; the same of myrtle leaves, rosemary, lavender leaves, and lemon thyme in flower, the rinds of 4 lemons cut as fine as possible, ½ oz. cinnamon, ½ oz. cloves, ½ oz. allspice, a large nutmeg in the finest powder, 1 oz. storax, 1 oz. bergamot, 1 oz. spirit of lavender, 1 oz. essence of lemon, 1 dr. musk, 6 oz. powdered orris root. Put all these ingredients into a jar with a lid that shuts very close, then add the following flowers as you gather them: 3 handfuls orange flowers, 3 of clove pinks, 2 of rosemary, 2 of lavender flowers, 2 of jessamine, 6 of rose leaves, and leaves of Aloysia citriodora. Stir it each time fresh flowers are added. Gather 4 rosebuds early in the morning, and put them at once into your jar. Do not leave any two leaves sticking together, and pick out every piece of green. Syringa flowers are a good substitute for orange flowers. If the pot-pourri becomes too moist, add orris root powder and spices; if too dry, add bay salt and saltpetre, only let every powder be as fine as possible, and well mixed. It cannot be too much stirred at first, and, if well made, will keep its perfume for many years.

_Old-Fashioned Dances._--_The Triumph_: The ladies and gentlemen stand in lines opposite to each other; the top gentleman dances down the centre with the second lady, pursued by her own partner; she dances back between the two, and the next couple begin, until all the dancers are engaged. _Cottagers_: 4 people stand for this as in the quadrille; they cross hands in the centre, and make the half-turn backwards and forwards; then the second couple hold up their hands, and the first couple pass beneath and begin again. _Square Eights_: Ladies and gentlemen in two lines, hands across, then first polka round, and then galop, and begin again. _Morgiana in Iceland_: The dancers stand opposite each other in two lines. The top couple go outside the lines, back again, down the middle, and up again; the couple at the top holding up their hands, they pass under, and the next couple begin. _Miss Lunsdam’s Fancy_: The first couple set to the second lady, hands 3 round, the gentlemen do the same, lead down the middle and up again, right and left at top. _Lady Doran Strathspey_: Set and hands across and back again, down the middle and up again allemand; turn corners, lead outsides. _The Jubilees_: First and second couple hand across, back again, lead down the middle and up again; swing corners. _The Quadrille Mazurka_, danced face to face, in 4, 6, or 8 couples, up to 32. Fig. 1. The 2 couples facing each other make the complete right and left; the 2 gentlemen, advancing with their partners, give each other their left elbows, make a demi tour, change their partners, make the tour sur place forward, and repeat the figure to bring them back to places. Fig. 2. Wait 8 bars. The 2 opposite gentlemen, holding their partners by the hand, advance and fall back, cross by right and change places, make the tour sur place forward, and repeat the figure to bring themselves back to their places. Fig. 3. Wait 8 bars. The 2 opposite ladies cross by their right, and re-cross, giving the left hand; the gentlemen give them the right hand, turning them; their left hand round the waist. Thus the ladies, still holding each other by the left hand, make a half round to change places. The gentlemen, still holding their partners by the waist, make the tour sur place forward. They cross hands in centre, and make an entire round. The gentlemen, having changed sides, take their partners’ hand, and fall back with them, and repeat the figure to regain their places, omitting the cross hands in centre. Fig. 4. Wait 8 bars. The first gentleman promenades with his partner round to his place, advances forward and backwards. The gentleman again advances, and his partner crosses to left; without quitting her hands, he takes the lady from the opposite couple with his other hand, who takes the hand of the other lady behind the gentleman; thus all three advance and retire without turning. The gentleman then stoops, and passes under the arms of the two ladies united behind, with which his own are then found crossed. The three go round to the right; the gentleman then leaves the lady with her partner, and makes a promenade to his place with his own partner; both then advance and retire. Fig. 5. Wait 8 bars. Right and left; the gentlemen, still holding their partners, make a demi tour, and pass the right arm under the left of their partners, and, taking them by the waist, thus make the tour sur place backwards. Half hand round, and petit tour, to return to their places. Then join 4 hands round, and make a demi tour to the left. A tour forward, and demi tour round to the left, tour forward; double right and left, and return to their places. Tour sur place forwards and backwards, and finish by a grand chain as in Lancers. This is a graceful and telling dance. _The Spanish Dance_ is danced in 3 time with the waltz step, and is very graceful. The dancers stand in line as for a country dance, the sexes divided except that the top gentleman stands on the lady’s side, and the top lady on that of the gentleman, and every fourth lady and gentleman change places in like manner; first gentleman and second lady, and first lady and second gentleman of each set of 4; set to each other and change places; repeat; then first gentleman and second lady set to their partners, change, and resume their original places; all four join hands in centre, advance, retire, and change places; ladies passing to left four times; next the couples waltz round each other, the second couple taking the top; while the top couple repeat the figure till the whole line is completed. _The Swedish Dance_ is as follows: Arrange the company in lines of 3, a gentleman and 2 ladies, or a lady and two gentlemen, vis-à-vis, as many sets as can be formed to dance at once; all forward and back join hands; gentlemen set to opposite lady on the right and turn, and set to lady on the left, turn, and back to places; all forward and back, forward again, and pass through to next set; all forward and back twice; the two top ladies and opposite gentleman all three join hands round, and back again to places; all forward and back, forward again, and pass through to the next set; all forward twice; four ladies cross right, hands round and back again to places; hands all round and back to places; all forward and back, forward again, and pass through into next set. (A. H.)

=Amateur Theatricals.=--These form an excellent amusement for winter evenings, and may be made highly instructive to young members of the family, besides aiding in developing a degree of culture in manner and speech with proper guidance. A moderate amount of ingenuity, with some pasteboard, paper and paste, will suffice to extemporise a stage and scenery. A few hints on “making up” may be useful.

_Making up._--Given a clean shaven face, the features of which are not specially prominent, and it is comparatively easy for an artist in make up to transform it into a fair likeness of any type of character he wishes to represent, or even to imitate a particular individual. Of course the actor cannot remould his features, but by putting on different coloured paints he can present an effect which, viewed from a little distance, has all the appearance of having been remoulded. The great secret underlying all the triumphs of this art is that white brings into prominence and black depresses. For instance, take a nose that is reasonably straight. Suppose it is desired to make it a pug. Put a little dark brown on the bridge and make the end lighter than all the rest of the face. The gradations have to be nicely shaded, and there comes in the art. To reverse the process, and produce a marked aquiline, hook, or Jewish nose, put white on the bridge and darken down the tip a little. That will bring forth an aristocratic nose that would do credit to any duke in the British peerage.

Grease paints can now be purchased. These are colours mixed with a hard grease, a little of which is rubbed on the face and then smoothly spread over with the finger. One of its most valuable properties is that it is not affected by perspiration, and requires grease or soap and water to remove it. Generally the actor rubs a little vaseline or cold cream over his face and wipes this off with a rag before washing, thus removing most of the paint and getting the soap to lather more easily. It does not seem to injure the skin when it is properly washed off at night, but persons who are careless may let it block up the pores of the skin or remain in the roots of the hair or eyebrows. The number of shades in which grease paint is now made is very great, and every actor who takes pride in his make up will have from a dozen to twenty kinds. Even in flesh tint alone there are six varieties, from the very delicate creamy white of youth to the leaden sallowness of extreme old age. Besides these there are shades for Chinamen, and for every gradation of Indian and negro blood. Then there are whites for “high lights” and for whitening mustaches or eyebrows, browns for shading, blues for veins and hollows, reds, blacks, and yellows. You must not think they are all used in one make up, though often seven or eight colours are combined in an elaborate one. The first thing to do in making up is to select the proper flesh tint. This having been chosen and applied, the next thing is generally the rouge. Except in the case of very old characters, some red must be put on the faces, or the yellow glare of the footlights will make them look perfectly ghastly. But where the red is to be put and how much of it and what shade to use, depend entirely upon the age of the person to be represented. The younger the person the more delicate the tint of rouge should be and the higher it should be upon the face. Thus, for a very young man, the rouge is put on in a half-moon shape, one horn beginning at the inner corner of the eye and the other extending well up the temple as high as the eyebrow. As the age increases we cease to run the colour up so high on the outer side, until for mature years it settles down into the hollow below the cheek bone.

The rouge being properly applied, we next go to work upon the wrinkles or hollows. In representing age the principal lines to be emphasised are those from the nose to the corners of the mouth, from the corners of the mouth to the chin, from the inner corners of the eyes to the hollows of the cheeks, and those on the forehead. Some actors make the wrinkles in blue, others in brown, and others in grey. It is a matter of taste. The lines are made with thin sticks of the paint cut to a point, or with a pointed leather stub upon which the paint has been rubbed. After the wrinkles have been put on it may be necessary to accentuate them by a line of white or light colour on the edges, and these lines must be graduated into each other so as not to seem too hard or abrupt. In representing old men the strong muscle above the line from the nose to the mouth must be brought out very strongly with white. The cheek bones under the eyes must be treated in the same way. Then the eyelids require darkening for age, and crows’ feet are carefully drawn with a number of thin irregular lines at the outer comers of the eyes. Where youth is shown, the upper eyelids and skin under the eyebrow are delicately rouged. If hollows in the cheeks, temples, or neck are wanted, these are the next things to be done, and the outlines of the cheeks may be rounded out with light shades or made to assume eccentric shaped with darker ones. The muscles of the neck may need bringing out, and hollows put under each side of the chin. Lips require rouging for youth, and blueing or darkening for age. Large mouths are made small by putting rouge only in the centre of the lips, and small ones made large by rouging all the way, and even extending the corners with a line of red. Where toothlessness is desirable the teeth are covered with a thin coating of black wax, which renders them quite invisible. The process is technically called “stopping out.” The face being now coloured, rouged, lined, wrinkled, and hollowed, the next things to be attended to are the eyebrows, and hair or beard if any are required.

Very few people are aware how important a part the eyebrows play in forming the expression of the face. Bringing them very close together will cause a look of meanness or villainy; a high arch will ensure surprise or vacancy of expression. A slight upward turn of the inner corner makes some faces very handsome. Eyebrows are often painted; but if very heavy ones are needed they are stuck on over the true ones. If the actor is going to wear his own eyebrows or mustache, he colours them to match his wig with grease paint, which, after being rubbed on, is combed so that each hair is coloured and there is no matted appearance. The use of mustaches and beards made on wire and hung from the ears has almost entirely gone out except among supers and utility people, as, being independent of the skin of the face, they did not move with it, and consequently never appeared natural. The best mustaches and beards are now made upon a thin foundation of silk, each hair being drawn through separately and knotted. The foundation is fastened to the face with spirit gum, another modern invention of great value to actors. It consists of gum dissolved in collodion and alcohol. This mixture dries immediately it is exposed to the air, is impervious to moisture, and can only be removed by spirits or grease. When the actor had to depend upon plain glue or gum, he was always in fear of losing his false beard, and many are the funny stories told of swallowing mustaches or transferring them to the faces of ladies who have had to be embraced in the course of the action of the piece.

Many actors prefer to make their own beards or whiskers nightly, as they do not like the feeling of the solid foundation on the skin, and, indeed, an all-round beard is apt to restrict the easy working of the jaws. Whiskers or beards are made from wool or crape hair, both of which can be obtained of any desired shade of the theatrical wig makers. The hair or wool is drawn through a coarse comb to a little longer than the length desired. It is then cut close to the teeth on the under or more solid side. An even mass is thus obtained which is readily fixed to the gummed cheek. The real art is in the subsequent trimming, with very sharp scissors, to the shape desired. Wool is more easily handled, but hair which comes in short lengths, plaited, is the most realistic. It is this that detectives use for disguises, and when well put on it is almost impossible to detect its falsity, as each hair seems to grow out of the skin.

Almost the last stage is the putting on of the wig. If this is not a bald one, the hair is brought down so that the junction with the forehead is not seen. Many foreign actors prefer to have their wigs made with a forehead piece, painted to match the face. Bald wigs are, of course, made in this way, and the edges are hidden with a thick dressing of grease paint, or, as it is sometimes called, joining paste. This being done, a coat of powder of the proper colour is delicately dusted on the face. Powder is prepared in every shade from white to orange. It has the effect of deadening the shininess of the grease paint, of softening the lines and blending the work into one harmonious whole.

Be careful, too, to make up your hands, a thing which many a good actor forgets. Yet how absurd it is to see an old, wrinkled face accompanied by young, plump hands. For an old man, the knuckles should be whitened, the hollows between them darkened, and the veins marked with white blue.

Actresses very seldom use grease paint, and, in fact, it is not necessary for them, as they rarely consent to line their faces. They generally use a liquid white, which has some mineral basis, and is in the end hurtful. The safest compound is a preparation of oxide of zinc, rose-water, and a few drops of glycerine. A little rouge, the darkening of the eyebrows, and a touch of red on the lips complete a lady’s make up. Most of them line below and above the eyelashes with black, which gives brilliancy to the eyes. They are very apt to overdo this, and then their eyes look like burnt holes in a blanket.

_Stage Illusions._--Many of the peculiar effects which are produced upon the stage, imitating moonlight, sunlight, thunder, wind, rain, and other natural phenomena, are a puzzle to those outside of the business. How such realistic representations of these things as are often witnessed upon the stage can be made is a question that often enters the mind of the spectator, and is seldom answered in a satisfactory manner. It is always the ambition of scene painters and stage carpenters to devise improved methods of imitating these things, and hence the stage may be said to try to hold the mirror up to nature in a material as well as a moral sense. Years of experience have tended to bring these imitations to a high state of excellence; but the limits do not yet seem to be reached, and new contrivances are continually appearing. The electric light is not yet used, but as its pale blueish tint would be serviceable in particular effects, stage machinists are now deliberating how it can best be employed. All of the operations mentioned, together with some which will be described, are classed under the general term, “stage effects.” Authors, in writing plays, are always on the look-out for an opportunity to produce a telling effect. The amount of work bestowed upon their production in a theatre is simply astonishing to those unacquainted with that mysterious realm known as “behind the scenes.”

Thunder is a common stage effect, and is used with great advantage in many plays. In former days it was produced by shaking a large piece of sheet iron immediately above the prompter’s desk. This contrivance produced a good imitation of sharp, rattling thunder, but failed to give the dull roar which is always heard in storms. A contrivance for this purpose was soon invented. A heavy box frame is made, and over it is tightly drawn a calf skin. Upon this the prompter operates with a stick, one end of which is padded and covered with chamois skin. A flash of lightning, produced with magnesium, and a sharp crack of the sheet iron, followed by a long decreasing roll upon the “thunder drum,” produce an effect which is startlingly realistic. Travelling companies are compelled to be satisfied with the sheet iron alone; and the tragedian who enters a theatre provided with a complete thunder apparatus always is happy to think that his battle with the elements in “King Lear” will be worth fighting.

The rain machine in large theatres is a fixture placed high up in the “flies.” A cylinder is made of “half-inch” wood. It is usually 5 ft. in circumference, and 4 ft. in length. Upon the inside are placed rows of small wooden teeth. A lot of dried peas is placed in the cylinder, a rope belt is run around one end of it and down to the prompter’s desk, and it is ready for a drenching shower. By turning the cylinder, the peas roll down between the teeth, and the noise produced by them makes a good imitation of rain falling upon a roof. A sudden pull of the rope, accompanied by a gust on the “wind machine,” gives the sound of the sweep of a blast of wind during a storm. Travelling companies often meet with theatres where there is no rain machine. A sufficiently good one, however, is easily produced. A common child’s hoop is obtained, and a sheet of heavy brown paper is pasted upon it after the manner of a circus rider’s balloon. A handful of birdshot is placed upon the paper. The “machine” is canted from one side to the other, and the shot rolls around the paper, producing a fairly good rain effect.

Wind is an item that is very useful in heightening the effect of stage storms. It is often dispensed with in theatres where strict attention is not paid to details, but not without a loss of “realism.” It has, moreover, a great influence over the feelings of spectators. The blind _Louise_ in the “Two Orphans” is much more pitied when the audience can hear the pitiless blast that makes her shiver. Hence in every large theatre the wind machine plays an important part. It is not a stationary apparatus, but can be moved to any quarter of the compass from which it is desired that wind should blow. In the last act of “Ours,” every time the door of the hut opens snow flies in and a shriek of wind is heard. The wind machine in that instance is placed just outside the door, and the property man works it, while his assistant amuses himself by trying to throw his paper snow down _Lord Shendryn’s_ back. The wind machine is constructed in this manner: A heavy frame is made, in which is set a cylinder provided with paddles and resembling very much the stern wheels seen on Ohio River towboats. Across the top of this cylinder is stretched as tightly as possible a piece of heavy gros-grain silk. This silk remains stationary while the wheel is turned by a crank. The rapid passage of the paddles across the surface of the silk produces the noise of wind. Often travelling companies are in theatres where there is no wind machine. Then the property man groans audibly and proceeds to do what, in theatrical parlance, is called “faking” the wind. He selects a heavy piece of gas hose, called by stage gasmen “flexible,” and, finding a quiet corner where there is sufficient space to swing a cat without danger--to the cat--he whirls it around his head with the greatest possible rapidity. This method produces very satisfactory results--to every one but the property man. He is a long-suffering person; but the extraction of wind from “flexible” causes him to find life tedious.

Every one has heard the startling crash that is produced when the hero kicks the villain through a four-inch oaken door. One would think that not only the door but the villain must be completely shattered. This noise is produced by the crash machine, one of the oldest implements of imitation still used on the stage. It is similar to the wind machine in construction. A wheel with paddles set at an angle of about forty-five degrees to the radii is the main part of the machine. Upon the top of the wheel one end of a stout piece of wood is pressed down by fastening the other end to a portion of the framework. When the wheel is turned, the slats passing under the stationary piece produce a rattling crash. The principle of the machine is illustrated by the small boy who runs a stick along a paling fence and is gratified by introducing into the world an additional morsel of hubbub.

There is nothing that can be so well counterfeited on the stage as moonlight scenery. And yet there is nothing which requires more work. The artist begins the task by painting a moonlight scene. In daylight such a scene is a ghastly sight. It is done in cold greys and greens, in which Prussian blue and burnt umber play an important part, and the lights are put in with white slightly tinged with emerald green. The strong moonlight of the foreground is produced by a calcium light thrown through a green glass. The fainter light upon the scenery at the back of the stage is obtained from “green mediums,” a row of Argand burners with green chimneys. These are placed upon the stage just in front of the main scene, and are “masked in” from the view of the audience a “ground piece.” A row of them is often suspended from the “flies,” in order to light the top of the scene. This upper row is masked in by “sky borders.” Thus a soft green light is thrown over the entire distance, while its source does not meet the view of the spectator. A usual feature of stage moonlight scenes is water, because it affords an opportunity for the introduction of the “ripple”--a charmingly natural stage effect. The main scene in a moonlight view is always painted on a “drop”--that is, a scene made like the curtain let down between the acts. The position of the moon being determined, immediately under it, beginning at the horizon, a number of small irregular holes is cut in the drop. These are then covered on the back with muslin and painted over on the front to match the rest of the water. Behind these holes is placed an endless towel, about 8 ft. in height, running around two cylinders, one at the top and one at the bottom. The lower cylinder has a crank by which the towel is turned. In this towel is cut a number of holes similar to those cut in the drop. A strong gas burner is placed between the two sides of the towel. When the machine is turned the flashing of the light from the passing holes in the towel through the stationary ones in the drop produce a fine ripple. It is always better to turn the towel so that the holes pass upward, as that helps to make the mimic wavelets seem to dance up toward the sky. Instead of a towel a large tin cylinder has been used, but it is cumbersome and noisy. It is necessary to turn this towel with great steadiness, otherwise the ripples will go by fits and starts, and entirely lose their natural appearance. Stars are easily put into the sky. Each twinkling orb consists of a spangle hung upon a pin bent into a double hook. The slightest motion of the drop causes these stars to shake and the flashing of the light upon them produces the twinkle.