Stuart Haber '78, three juggling clubs clamped firmly between his legs, blew on his hands, driving away the stiffness caused by the chilling afternoon wind.

Taking up the clubs, he began a "threeclub cascade." He then "exchanged" the clubs for three others his roommate, John Plimpton '78 held, tossing them one at a time over the ten feet separating the two jugglers, while each marked time with the two remaining clubs.

A friend stopped by, aligned herself between Haber and his roommate, and stood motionless as the clubs flew close by her face and her back, coming close but never quite hitting her.

Experienced Showman

Haber cooly ignored the passersby who gathered about to watch. Spectators do not disturb Stu Haber, for he is more than a techanical virtuoso; he is an experienced showman.

Haber is one of a handful of street jugglers in Cambridge, and also in the nation, because street juggling exists only in Boston, New York, and San Francisco.

Haber, a sophomore from New York City living in Winthrop House, performed in the Square until the number of people walking in the Square in the evenings started to drop, ending the outdoor session.

"Lots of people juggle, but to be able to do tricks consistently enough and before an audience..." mused Plimpton, distinguishing Haber from more amateur jugglers.

Six years ago Stu Haber picked up two oranges and began to juggle. For the next three years he taught himself tricks with what he terms "a terrible book."

He then met other jugglers, and started to trade tricks, learned how to "exchange", and began to perform in shows in New York City.

Through his juggling connections, Haber got a job as a juggling clown at an amusement park the summer before his freshman year.

Haber says his stint as a clown was his first "real experience" in juggling. He performed with two other jugglers, six shows a day, six days a week.

Showmanship and Chutzpah

Showmanship is of prime importance in street juggling, Haber says, because "you have to attract and hold people. You have to develop a certain amount of plain old chutzpah to face an audience."

The best moments in Haber's juggling career have been "a few shows that went very, very well...nothing cosmic, god damit...but when a show is working and there is communication with the audience."

Haber was once stopped from juggling on the street by a Cambridge policeman who told him it was illegal. He now stops periodically in his street shows and asks the gathered crowd to clear the street, in order to avoid any further problem with the police.

Why does Haber juggle? "I enjoy doing it," he muses. "It's time-wasting. I've geen making money at it."

But he discredits the "bullshit spirit" of juggling: "There is nothing intrinsically more spiritual about juggling than there is about eating breakfast."