he human mind is for once relieved of its stupidity. The
acrobat is master of his body and he lets his brain go a-roving upon
other matters, if he has one. He is expected to be silent. He would
agree with William James, transposing "music prevents thinking" into
"talking prevents silence." In so many instances, it prevents
conversation. That is why I like tea chitchat. Words are never meant
to mean anything then. They are simply given legs and wings, and they
jump and fly. They land where they can, and fall flat if they must.
The audience that patronizes vaudeville would do well to be present at
most first numbers, and remain for most or many of the closing ones. A
number, I repeat, like the Four Danubes, should not be snubbed by any
one.

I have seen recently, then, by way of summary, four fine bits of
artistry in vaudeville--Ella Shields, James Watts, the Brothers Rath,
and the Four Danubes. I shall speak again of these people. They are
well worth it. They turn pastime into perfect memory. They are,
therefore, among the great artists.

A CHARMING EQUESTRIENNE

I am impelled to portray, at this time, my devotion to the little
equestrienne, by the presence of a traveling circus in these lofty
altitudes in which I am now living, seven thousand feet above the sea,
in our great southwest. The mere sight of this master of the miniature
ring, with all the atmosphere of the tent about him, after almost
insurmountable difficulties crossing the mountains, over through the
canyons of this expansive country, delivering an address in
excellently chosen English, while poised at a considerable height on
the wire, to the multitude on the ground below him, during which time
he is to give what is known as the "free exhibit" as a high wire
artist--all this turns me once more to the ever charming theme of
acrobatics in general and equestrianism in particular, and it is of a
special genius in this field that I wish to speak.

I have always been a lover of these artists of bodily vigour, of
muscular melody, as I like to call it. As I watched this ringmaster of
the little traveling circus, this master mountebank of the sturdy
figure, ably poised upon his head on the high wire, outlined against
the body of the high mountain in the near distance, about which the
thunder clouds were huddling, and in and out of which the lightning
was sharply playing, it all formed for me another of those perfect
sensations from that phase of art e