“Môa aussi, jé été oun cholie pétit démoisel.” [p287] “Allons donc! clown!” “Vô n’étiez pas là quand jé suis né? Môa, j’y été. Alôrs jé dois savoir mieux que vô!” [Illustration] And in a lamentable voice he relates the misfortune which befell him: “Labonn’ mé proménait dans oun vouâture d’enfant, et ell’ [p288] s’assoit sur le bi-du-bout-du-banc à causer avec oun militair’. Et alors oun vieil’ sorcière é venue avec oun pétit garçon. Et ell’ a pris môa la choli pétit’ fill’ de la vouâture d’enfant’, et ell’ a mis à la place môa, le vilain petit garçon, dans la vouâture d’enfant. Et depuis ce temps-là jé oun souis vilain pétit garçon!”[13] With this Billy draws out an indescribable pocket-handkerchief and bursts into tears. Those whom this clown does not amuse, who prefer drama to comedy, will reserve their approbation for the acrobat-clown, who has inherited the genius of the Hanlon-Lees. This radical transformation of style tempted the _jester_ by many advantages: first, by replacing words by gestures, it suited the natural taciturnity of the Anglo-Saxon character, which cannot dispose of the resources of Italian loquacity; then it evoked great applause by the unexpected contrast between the somersault suddenly executed precisely according to rule, following the ridiculous knockabout performance of the tumbling scenes. In making this evolution the clown exposed himself to the danger of being confused with the professional gymnast whose exercises he reproduced. This danger however was more [p289] apparent than real. The work of a gymnast is of a special traditional character which no whimsical variation is ever allowed to tamper with. Its immediate aim is the display of daring movements and harmonious attitudes of the human body, and above all it is a plastic performance. The clown’s art, on the contrary, should aim at evoking laughter, not applause. It appeals less to the sense than to the intelligence, and, unlike gymnastics, it is not confined by classic fixed rules. It has the right to follow the wildest fancies of a whimsical imagination. It is not a Greek art, but an English one, and it reflects all the most curious characteristics of the Anglo-Saxon people. [Illustration] [p290] The prevailing note in the Anglo-Saxon character is melancholy. This produced the spleen, the gloomy ideas and the systematic calculated first tinge of madness which the English themselves call “eccentricity.” To this habitual sadness the Anglo-Saxon joins a certain brutality, which is visible in all his games, sullies all his pleasures, and even gives to his vices a peculiarly sombre hue. In England gymnastics are cultivated, not for the beauty which they bestow upon the body, but for the murderous weight which they give to the fists of a boxer. England is the cruel country, where men first formulated the law of the “struggle for life.” [Illustration] [p291] The clown, the direct son of the Saxon genius, said to himself: [Illustration]