The Art of Entertaining

1895

How Guests Are Made Happy and How Made Miserable.

If an icy coldness reigns in well heated rooms, if people pass each other distantly, stare at the pictures or turn over the leaves of photograph albums and yet look forward eagerly and with pleasure to the moment when they can bid good night to their host, these are evidences of a discomfort not always expressible in words, for even though conventionality requires that they depart with the fervent assurance that they have spent a delightful evening it is a lie. The host may be charming, cordial and well meaning, but it is a martyrdom to attend a function at his house, for the reason that he is not fitted for the duties of a social leader. The same people who answer his calls would in another house have been able to enjoy themselves thoroughly.

The most dangerous as a host to the peace of mind of society people is the nervous man. The perturbed manner with which he receives his guests betrays the fact that the company is built up like mosaic, figuratively speaking — the falling of one stone would cause the whole edifice to crumble in pieces. He is pale and anxious as he rushes hither and thither, fearful lest something will go wrong, and speaks to the guests who have arrived without knowing what he is talking about.

He looks hurriedly around and exclaims:

"Hasn't Smith come yet? Where can he be? He is always late! Last night in the club he told me — Ah, here he is, at last!" And, going up to Smith, he says, "Why, I was quite worried about you. How can you make us wait so long? Allow me to introduce you to Mrs. Jones."

The introduction over with, he looks at the clock and mops his forehead. The worst of it is that his nervousness is infectious. Before an hour has elapsed the whole company is in the same condition; even the servants with the refreshments seem to be rendered nervous by simple thanks from any of those present. Stolid men become gradually excited, answering the most innocent questions either irritably or absentmindedly. It is only when they are at the table, or lose sight of their entertainer, that the customary equanimity of the guests is restored. — Home and Country.

Six Frightened Lions

1901

An incident at the Porte St. Martin theater in Paris has become part of the annals of the show business. The chief feature of the exhibition was a "turn" consisting of the casting of a young woman securely bound into a cage of lions heralded as being the fiercest and most bloodthirsty of man eaters.

The woman who had the part of the victim was taken ill, and a substitute was found in the wife of one of the trainers, herself a trainer of some experience, but without any acquaintance with these particular six lions, as she was somewhat nervous she carried a small club ready for use should occasion arise.

Amid the breathless silence of the spectators the ringmaster explained the ferocious nature of the lions and the terrible risk of the woman and she was thrust in at the cage door. In the excitement of the occasion the door was not securely shut after her. No sooner was she fairly inside than the six monarchs of the jungle, seeing that a strange person had been forced upon them, raised a chorus of shuddering terror, bolted for the cage door, clawed it open and with dragging tails and cringing flanks fled out through a rear entrance and found refuge in a cellar, whence they were dislodged only after great difficulty.

It was a week before the "ferocious man eaters" were sufficiently recovered from their terrors to reappear in public. — McClure's Magazine.

A Nervy Museum Manager

1901

Sarah Bernhardt said that one night during a visit to America when she was playing "Jeanne d'Arc," she hurt her knee with a rusty nail. "The wound gave me considerable pain and trouble," she said, "and it was thought that a slight operation might possibly be required. This fact appeared in the daily papers, and a day or two afterward I received a telegram from the manager of a museum in Chicago saying that if it was necessary to amputate my leg might he please have it. He added he would drape it if desired."

Dancing Craze Has Grip on New York

1910

NEW YORK. — It has become a sort of madness in New York, the desire to see dancing. Some 15 years ago a Spanish dancer like Carmencita might create something of a seven-days' wonder, besides having her name written down as an artist in the books which posterity is supposed to read. But nowadays dancing of all sorts is fairly worshiped.

Isadora Duncan brought the Greek dance, which later was kept alive by Maud Allen and other imitators of Miss Duncan. Ruth St. Denis introduced the Hindoo dance; Mistinguett and Max Dearly at the Moulin Rouge in Paris created the Apache dance, which has since been given in every possible form in America, ending with Polaire's vivid performance, and the Salome dance was a craze of itself for a summer.

For three seasons no vaudeville bill has been deemed complete unless some dancer appeared in the list of performers. More than generally that dancer's name, like that of Abou Ben Adam, has led all the rest. The masked dancers at the rival vaudeville theaters, are the latest examples of the music hall craze for dancing sensations. We had "story" dances, toe dances, clog dances, cake walks, cancans, everything, it seemed, that the mind of man has been able to invent or resuscitate.

It remained, however, for some enterprising manager to take advantage of the idea and give the public an entire evening of contrasted and almost unbroken dancing.

From the beginning to the end it is almost one unbroken dance. Between the dances and between the acts the audience has a chance to rest its eyes and prepare for a new round.

Now a glimpse at the popular supper places or the tea rooms at the big hotels would give a stranger from Oshkosh the idea that the hobble skirt was quite as much of a craze in its way just now as, well, let us say, the dance.

No play, therefore, which attempted to call itself apotheosis of the dance could be considered complete without an attempt to show how a woman would look dancing in a hobble skirt. The hobble skirt dance, to say the least, is amusing.

Letting the Wife Know Guests Are Coming

1914

It is difficult for some men to see that it makes it much easier for a wife, in her domestic arrangements with the cook and behind the scenes, if her husband sends her word before the arrival of a guest that he intends bringing home for dinner or over night, ventures the Ladies' Home Journal.

Of course, in any well regulated family the latch string always hangs out, as the saying goes, and an extra plate is easily laid for the unexpected guest. But does a man in his business like to get an order that he cannot fill? Does he like to say he hasn't it in stock? Does he care to be caught shorthanded? Neither does a good housekeeper nor a good cook.

In households where there are money and food to throw away the case is different. But in most homes, where every penny — or every potato — counts, it is only fair for the office side to the let the distaff side know beforehand. It is the right of the wife to know.

"Hoochy-Coochy" Dances Seen Immoral, Performances Under Fire

Portsmouth, OH, 1897

OOCHY-COOCHY

Four Prominent Citizens Say It Is a Moral Dance.

The Mayor Ordered It Stopped and the Four Protested.

Agreed to Modify the Program a Little and Work In a Punch and Judy Performance— Three Suspicious Looking Individuals Who Will Keep Several Days.

One of the spectators at the Oriental dances at Eddie Burns' saloon Tuesday night was Marshal Schmitt. The marshal's opinion of the performance, backed by that of several other spectators, resulted in an order from the mayor next morning stopping the show.

When application was made for a license Monday it was represented to mayor as an ordinary skirt dance. Complaints were made the next day that it was an immoral show, and it was decided to investigate it officially, which was done, with the above result. The dance is an imitation of the Turkish "Ooohy-Coochy" dance introduced at the World's fair and attracted enormous crowds.

Mr. Burns, when sent for, insisted that the show was not an immoral one. The mayor had the opinion of a number of spectators to the contrary. Burns agreed to get six of the best citizens in the city to sign a statement that it is not an immoral or indecent performance. He left and returned an hour later with the signatures of four prominent business men who saw the dance. He finally agreed to modify the program, substitute a regular skirt dance, "Punch and Judy" performance and other similar innocent amusements for the naughty dance.

In the mayor's court Tuesday afternoon some of the parties engaged in the free-for-all fight Saturday night at Ray's saloon, on West Second street, were placed on trial. Five of them were found guilty. Huston, Appler and Shakespeare were fined $3.00 and costs; Justice and McDowell $1.00 and costs.

Two young men, with the appearance of confidence men, were run in Tuesday night by Officer Ingles and slated "on suspicion." They gave the names of Jarvis Lloyd and Ed. Hastings and claim to be from Chicago. They will probably "keep" several days.

Belle Medley 'fessed up to the mayor Wednesday that she used bad language in the presence of Edith Turner, Paradise alley. She was fined $4.80.

—The Portsmouth Times, Portsmouth, OH, July 31, 1897, p. 1.