JUGGLING TALES.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XLII, Issue 11, 17 March 1909, Page 47

JUGGLING TALES.

By

Paul Cinquevalli

The Man of Idea*. U y I JUGGLER nowadays must among f I other qualifications be a man .1 I with ideas; if he can only perform a few feats, no matter how wonderful and clever they may be, he will never win a great reputation. I have never been troubled witli a lack of ideas for new feats; but many of them have taken a tremendous time to master completely. Ideas for feats come to me in al! sorts of ways. For example, when 1 was balancing a large wooden ball on top of a stick one day just for practice, the ball slipped and fell on the back of my neck without ihurting me in the least. It then at once occurred to me that if I could catch a ball by accident on the back of my neck without hurting myself, I ought to be able to do the same thing any time I wanted to. So I threw the ball up in the air, tried to catch it on the same place, did not quite succeed, and was knocked senseless on the floor. This determined me to master the art of catching a ball on my neck without hurting myself. The difficulty to be overcome was to catch the ball on the right place; an eighth of an inch to the right or left, if a heavy ball is used, means instant death.. So I began to practise with a fairly light one. and. as !• grew more perfect, used a heavier ball, li'ntil' I was able to catch a sixty-pound cannon-ball on my neck on the right place with as much certainty as I can place a hat on my bead. It took me about a year to master _ this feat. Though by no means the most difficult feat in my repertoire, it is certainly the most popular, probably because it looks such a dangerous thing to do. Another feat came into my head one day when I was at dinner. It struck me as I was cutting a: potato that it would be rather a nice notion to out the potato in two in the air and catch the two portions on the knife and fork. I made a note of the idea, and a little afterwards began to practise it. I was able to do it fairly accurately after a month; but It took two years’ work before I felt justified in doing the feat in public. There are some feats that I venture to perform in public only in winter. One of them is balancing the thin end of a billiard cue on my nose; then I let the cue slide down my nose and bring it up again balanced on the heavy end. This is extremely difficult, and if the cue should become in the least bit sticky, as it is likely to do in hot. weather, it would not slide with sufficient smoothness or rapidity to enable me to succeed. I often practise this a hundred times

before breakfast, as it is splendid for keeping the eye in training. When the Trick ‘Wouldn’t Work. A popular feat is balancing a top hat on an umbrella. On the hat is placed a halfcrown and a cigar. 1 toss the lot in the air and catch the cigar in iny mouth, the halfcrown in my eye, and the hat on my head. A rather funny incident occurred in. connection with this feat some years agD, when 1 was playing in pantomime at Manchester. In the third scene I came on as a waiter and performed all sorts of antics with cups, plates, and saucers; then a “funny man” came on, who challenged me to perform the trick with the hat, cigar, and halfcrown. “I’ll give you the halfcrown,” the man would say, “if you catch it in your eye.” 1 performed the feat; but caught the coin in my left eye. “You cannot have the halfcrown,” the man would exclaim. “You have caught it in your left instead of your right eye.” Then I would say, “That is easily altered,” and would just jerk the coin—without, of course, touching it—across my face, and catch it in the' right eye, and then walk oil’ with it. This always raised great laughter, and was quite a successful little “business.” But one night it .unfortunately failed to work. I should mention that 1 never put on grease paint, and in consequence my face looked rather white and pallid beside those of the other performers in the pantomime. Ono night the manager called my attention to this fact, and to oblige him I brightened up my countenance with a lathering of grease paint—with most untoward results; for when I came to the critical part of my performance, where I nad to jerk the halfcrown from my left to right eye, the coin rev fused to stir—it was stuck to the paint —and, much to the amusement of tlie audience and to those on the stage as well, I had to ake it out of my eye with my hand. I have performed in all parts of the world and in some rather curious places; . but I think the most awkward place I ever worked in was at a street corner in Boulder City, when I was doing a tour of the world some years ago. The performance was an impromptu affair. I happened to be at Coolgarlie, and some one suggested that I should go to Boulder for the benefit of the miners. I had a platform put up at tne corner of the street outside the hotel where ! stopped, round which the seats were ranged. Unluckily for me, a terrific gale was blow-

ing at the time of the performance, and one fearful blast sent a quantity of my belongings in the way of hats, sticki, and various juggling implements into the street, which the miners kindly gathered up and returned to mo. The gale made it impossible for me to perform a number of feats; but I am always ready for emergencies, and managed to give an exhibition that satisfied my audience. A Feat of Balancing. A very little thing may interfere with some feats. I remember some years ago —it was at Chicago, I think—l was in my room at the hotel practising balancing two billiard balls on each other on top of a cue. To my horror 1 found I was unable to perform this feat. Now, it is extremely difficult. and it took over eight years’ practice before 1 had mastered it; indeed, when 1 was learning to do it, 1 was told by several people taat I was simply wasting my time trying to do a thing scientifically impossible of accomplishment. My feelings, therefore, when I found myself unable to balance the balls on the cue, can be better imagined than described. 1 should not attempt to do any feat in public if 1 found myself unable: to do it with; perfect certainty in private, and yet it was absolutely essential that I should give this as usual that evening. For over an hour 1 tried to balance, the balls on the cue; but failed every time to do so. and I sat down in despair. What had; happened to me 1 could not say; but the fact remained that 1 was unable any longer.to perform the finest feat 1 had learned after years of practice. As 1 was sitting by the table in my room wondering what I should do. I fancied 1 heard a faint throbbing noise. After listening for a little while, I suddenly jumped up and rang the bell violently. “Tell me quick!” I cried to the servant, ’’What is that noise? Listen!” “Oh,” replied the man, “that is the gas engine in the basement.” “Stop it at once!” I said. “Stop it if it costs a hundred pounds! Quick!” The man fled from the room, and by his look 1 am afraid he thought. 1 had gone crazy; hut he had the engine stopped, and in a few minutes the throbbing noise ceased. Then I once more tried balancing the billiard balls on the cue, and succeeded in performing the feat without the least difficulty. It was as I had thought: the vibration of the gas engine had upset the balance of the bans and had made it impossible for me to perform the feat.

His Mother’s Protest. I will conclude these little reminiscences of itiy career with an incident that still remains fresh in my mind, though it happened many years ago. when I was a little boy of nine years old. I was then apprenticed to a showman, who conceived the idea <»f disguising me as a baboon and making me go through all sorts uf strange antics and perform many clever feats—clever, that is, for a ba boon. The showman exhibited me as a genuine balloon. and used to tell his audience the most wonderful stories about my capture and subsequent training. .\ll went well until I reached Lissa, my native town, where my parents lived. Neither of them had seen me for three years, and under vow of the strictest secrecy they were told the true story of the wonderful hoy baboon, and came to see his performance. Now it so happened that the manager had arranged a specially dangerous feat for me that night, which consisted in jumping through a hoop studded with large sharp knives, so that if I did not jump perfectly straight I should probably be severely injured. Just as 1 was about to take the jump, my mother shrieked out. "Don’t do it. Paul, don’t do it! Yon wul lie killed!” This interruption made me forget myself. and 1 shouted out. “It’s all right, mother; I can do it easily.” A howl of derision came from the audience, and early the next day the show hastily left ,Lissa; but 1 remained behind.