Rickie Layne, who died Saturday at 81, was a borsht-belt ventriloquist who became nationally famous thanks to dozens of television appearances on Ed Sullivan’s “Toast of the Town” in the 1950s.

Layne’s shtick displayed an often contentious relationship with his Yiddish inflected dummy Velvel, who seemed to inhabit a slightly parallel mental universe. In what was perhaps their best-known routine, Layne – who in real life is half Castilian – tries to teach Velvel the noble art of bullfighting.

“The bull charges … and then you take out your espada.” [The matador’s killing sword].

“My what?”

“You take out your espada.”

After much consternation, Velvel says, “So I take out my espada in front of 10,000 people. What do I do with my espada?”

“You wave it over your head.”

“Evidently, you haven’t seen my espada.”

Layne, born Richard Israel Cohen, grew up in Brooklyn, son of a Castilian father and Russian immigrant mother who performed in an accordion act under the moniker “Gypsy Sonya.” Already an accomplished mimic of the popular entertainers Al Jolson and Eddie Cantor, he was thrilled when, at age 9, his uncle Norbert bought him a ventriloquist’s dummy. Edgar Bergen and Charlie McCarthy were among the most popular radio shows of the day.

Layne originally named his dummy “Gladstone,” after Prime Minister Gladstone, because, he told the Jewish Journal in 2002, “he slept in a Gladstone bag” – a high-end, two sided, pouchy leather tote. “Velvel” – as he later became – is simply Yiddish for Willy, and its homely origins but exotic sound were typical of Layne’s humor.

Layne started out on the borscht belt, alternately waiting tables and performing alongside the likes of Jerry Lewis at venues in the Catskills and New Jersey. Later, as a member of Major Bowes’s Amateur Hour traveling unit, he toured widely. During World War II, he served in an Army entertainment unit devoted to recruiting for the Women’s Army Corps, his daughter, Teri Layne, said.

After the war, Layne appeared in touring revues, including “Borsht Capades,” and “Bagels and Yox.” In 1949, he moved to Panorama City, Calif., and found work at various clubs in the Los Angeles area. In 1955, the Los Angeles Times reported that in his appearance in the revue “Halvah Hilarities,” “Rickie Layne and his toy Velvel ‘sent’ the crowd with their ‘hip’ chatter.” Ventriloquism seemed to have a beat edge.

His big break came later that year, when Nat King Cole caught the act at Ciro’s on the Sunset Strip. King was there to see his wife Maria sing, but he loved Layne’s act, and told Sullivan he should book it. When Sullivan demurred – he couldn’t travel to California to see an audition – Cole offered to perform for Sullivan for free if Layne’s act bombed. Layne appeared on the January 1, 1956, episode of “Toast of the Town,” and was immediately rebooked.

“Sullivan really liked Rickie, and Velvel would call him ‘Mr. Solomon,'” the president of the International Ventriloquists Association, Valentine Vox, said. “He became his foil.”

The television exposure led to higher exposure gigs at New York’s Copacabana, the Fontainebleau in Miami Beach, and the Orpheum Theater in Los Angeles. Layne appeared several times each year on Sullivan through 1964, and kept touring nightclubs through the 1970s. For the Jewish Journal he recalled a joke from an appearance in Reno in 1978:

“I did a gag with the dummy where he had a mustache. I’d say, ‘You’re just jealous because your mustache is bigger than mine,’ and Velvel would answer, ‘Anything I have is bigger than yours.'” He still had the old magic.

“I’m not a good ventriloquist,” Layne told the Jewish Journal. “I’m basically a comic. I use the dummy as an excuse to do dialogue.”

In 2002, the International Ventriloquists Association awarded him its Askins award for contributions to the art.

Rickie Layne

Born Richard Israel Cohen on October 30, 1924, in Brooklyn; died February 11 of heart failure at the Tarzana (Calif.) Hospital; survived by his daughters, Sandy Duncan and Teri Layne, and four granddaughters.