Frank Bellew

Frank Bellew

Summary

Portrait of Frank Bellew Frank Bellew The Art of Amusing

Ah, oh—yes, I see; it's some kind of a paint shop. I must trump up some business with the proprietor as an excuse for coming in. Wonder, by the way, whether there's anybody about, after all? Ah! yes, to be sure; bless my soul, there he is. (Takes a step towards artist, and coughs. Artist pretends to be deeply engaged in his art, and does not hear him.) Ahem! ahem! wonder whether the poor creature is deef and dumb. Ahem! ah, excuse me, sir, but—ah, that is fine day—ahem! good-morning, sir.
Artist. Good-morning, sir.
Mr. B. You are a painter, are you not, sir?
Artist.
Source: Gutenberg

Portrait of Frank Bellew Frank Bellew The Art of Amusing

Theatre-going, our chief amusement, can hardly be reckoned a healthy relaxation, though well enough now and then. Sitting in a cramped attitude, in a stifling atmosphere, is not conducive to moral or physical development. What we need are informal social gatherings, where we may laugh much and think little, and where dignity won't be invited; where we need not make ourselves ill with bad champagne and ice-starch, nor go into the other extreme of platitudes, ice-water and doughnuts: but where both body and mind will be treated considerately, tenderly, generously.
Source: Gutenberg

Portrait of Frank Bellew Frank Bellew The Art of Amusing

At one stage in the entertainment it seemed absolutely necessary that he should have the aid of a small boy, in order to make six copper cents pass from under a hat to the top of a bird-cage. Making known his want, a red-faced youth with black curly hair volunteered his services. The juvenile, be it observed, had rendered himself somewhat conspicuous by declaring at the end of every trick that he knew how it was done, and by inquisitively desiring to inspect the interior of goblets and the bottoms of boxes. Merryweather's eyes twinkled as this gentleman tendered his assistance.
Source: Gutenberg

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