It is circus tradition that in 1842, when even the double somersault was deemed a difficult and dangerous feat, a performer tried the triple turn. It happened in Mobile, Alabama, and the rash acrobat broke his neck. W. J. Hobbes, a tumbler, was killed attempting the trick in London four years later. John Amor, a Pennsylvania circus leaper, who was a famous double somersault revolver, paid with his life for his ambition in 1859. He was travelling with an English circus, essayed the death-dealing act, struck on his forehead and died. The somersault, whether it be single or double, is a feat which requires the most assiduous practice and the most accurate calculation. The first thing which the tumbler learns is to jump from a springboard. The sensation of springing through the air is an uncanny one. Next is the “stock” somersault, which consists of merely springing up in the air and slowly, and with practically no muscular exertion, turning over. The motion is so slow that the spectators hardly realize that the man has revolved. Then begins the drill for the real somersault. The acrobat learns the “tuck,” which consists of grasping both legs tightly half way between the knee and ankle and pressing them closely together. At the same time the acrobat puts the muscles of his shoulders and back into play. This muscular force acts like the balance weight of the wheel. It aids him to complete the revolution. The taking of the “tuck” requires the nicest calculation. The acrobat must wait until he has sprung as far in the air as the force of the springboard or his legs will carry him. If he “tucks” too soon he will fall like a coffee sack. If he waits until too late he finds himself cast, a human wheel at a dead centre. He is likely to have broken bones in either case in spite of carpet or mattress. The double somersault requires more muscular force. The trained acrobat knows exactly where he is at every point in the revolution. He has a strange sense which makes him feel it. It is when he summons his almost exhausted energies for a third turn that he feels like a ship without a rudder. Harry Costello, Wm. Kinkead, John Armstrong, Arthur Mohring, and “Little Bob” Hanlon, well-known circus performers, have broken their necks and died in executing the double somersault within a score of years.