Sacramento daily record-union. [volume] (Sacramento [Calif.]) 1875-1891, 1890-06-22
THE JUGGLER' LAST FEAT.

SUNDAY UNION; by Mrs. n. 4. Whitel
Twenty years ago was the golden age of
the mountebanks and ramblers of Paris.
Sauntering through the public parks was
then one of the chief amusements of the
Parisians, and nightly they used to assem-
BILE during the long beautiful summer
evenings in the square nearest their
dwellings, where they enjoyed gratui-
tously, beneath the spreading plane-trees,
an eyer-yarying performance.
There were shows to suit every taste.
The squares which were the most patron
lied were those of Beaudoyer, Chateau
d Eau, Temple, and above all that of the
Bastille. This last was most admirably ar
ranged for both drtistes and spectators,
lnasmuch as the former could display
their various talents while the latter
looked ON and listened undisturbed.
This, so to speak, permanent fair was
held on the elevated plain which forms
vast square between the quays of Valmy
and Jemmapes. Its originality made it
especially interesting to the Parisians.
The amateurs in music used to gather in
circle around Bouyard, the bag-pipe
player, accompanying in chorus the lively
and witty refrains of the song writers then
in vogue-Gustave Lery, Edouard Plou-
vier, and scores of others, who have dis
appeared and are forgotten without hav-
ing inscribed their names on the memory
of the generations that they charmed SO
long.
Then was, indeed, the happy day of the
popular song, and after listening to the
catching airs of some itinerant song
ster, the workman on the morrow whiled
| away the fatigue of the weary hours by
humming the refrains of the night before,
at the same time dreaming of the one who
| awaited him at home, who also sang as she
sewed. The needle sped more swiftly
through the silk when accompanied by the
| rhythm of the lively tune, and the nipple
ment of the workman grew lighter to his
hand as 1t beat the time Of the song of the
| day.
But the mountebanks in particular fas-
cinated the crowd, and among them all
| was one who seemed to exert over his audi
| ence a sort of domination.
He was peculiar individual, about
thirty years of age, very dark, with long,
| well-cared-for hair, a silky mustache,
proudly curled, pale complexion, eyes in
which shone a somber fire deeply set
beneath his heavy brows. He was always
correctly dressed in black, with linen of
scrupulous whiteness, and wore high
crowned hat OF the prevailing style. At
first 1t was evident that he was an outcast
who preserved, in the midst of his unfor-
tunate brethren, the exterior of man of
| the world
de was always alone, never spoke to any
one, and never entered the wine-shop. He
always came into the square carrying I'M
der his arm black velvet bag and little
table of black wood, capable of being folded
| when not in use.
He always began by setting up his table,
covering it with a cloth bordered with
golden fringe, and then, undoing the
strings of his bag, would take from it a
magnificent doll, as large as three-year-
| old child, and resplendent in silk and lace
He would place it tenderly upon the table,
| its head resting on an embroidered cush-
| ion, and then-always without saying
| word-walk silently up and down few
steps away. Little 10y little crowd al
| ways gathered curiously about him, and
| when he considered it sufficiently large he
| would make his entry upon the scene, po-
litely pushing aside the spectators. He
would then bow to them right and left,
| roll up the sleeves of his coat, and begin
an exhibition OF ventriloquism.
1t was truly marvellous performance,
| and the receipts were always abundant, al
though he never asked for anything. The
| seance over, he would gather up the money,
| aided by obliging gamins, bow once more
to his audience, fold up his baggage and
disappear.
This enigmatical man was the subject of
many comments, and the most extraordi-
nary stories were circulated regarding him.
According to some he was police agent
others maintained that he was a ruined
| nobleman; others affirmed that he was the
son OF certain Duke well known in Paris
on account of his diamonds and his pecul-
lar talent for Disgusting his face.
| often had an opportunity of being
present at his performances, and the SYM
pathetic expression of this gentlemanly-
looking mountebank always attracted my
attention. l was therefore somewhat con-
cerned when several days elapsed without
seeing him at his usual place, from which
hS dioaPPcaieu a. auuuSuiy Us he ndu
come.
Time passed, and l had ceased to think
of him, when one evening saw him seated
on the terrace of the Cafe des Princes.
l took a seat at a neighboring table,
and would have wished to enter into con-
versation with him, but found he was still
as taciturn as on the foreground of the
Bastille.
Il beg your PARDON" said l at last, 'I
think, sir, that have already had the
pleasure of meeting you"
very likely" replied he dryly.
''Place de la Bastille ?" added L.
You are right, monsieur" said he,
without displaying the slightest emotion
81 am, or rather was, the Man with the
Speaking DOLL"
Il did not intend to recall any disa-
greeable circumstances to your mind.
Please excuse me-"
THE recollection of that time does not
annoy me in the least There is never
any disgrace in earning ones living, and
any calling, no matter how humble, is al
ways creditable when it is honestly exer-
cised. Moreover, your remembrance of me
is in reality hattering, for it proves that
you observed me, and, indeed, my dress,
language and manners formed a contrast
to the ragmuffins surrounding me that
could not have escaped your notice"
''Of course not" affirmed.
Acknowledge that you would like to
hear my story"
81 confess would"
well, then, you shall hear, although l
assure you it is a very commonplace one.
am an American by birth, and, having
dissipated large fortune, l came to Paris
to work while awaiting the death of very
rich uncle of whom / was the sole heir.
He died not long ago, and as soon as /
took possession Of my inheritance | aban-
doned the public square to resume my rank
in the world; and here / am"
GLOW did you acquire such a remark
able talent for ventriloquism ?"
at is natural gift. And, finding my
self without resources, | determined to use
my talent to the best advantage. Perhaps
an account of my first attempt in public
may interest you-would you like to hear