Preparation. The two “flower-pots” (see page 5), separated, are placed upon the table. Also the card mat (see page 1), loaded with the ten of any given suit, say diamonds, taken from the pack performer is about to use, and a double-faced card, representing on the one side the seven, and on the other the three of the same suit. The deuce and five of same suit to be laid on the top of the pack.

Performer, advancing pack in hand, palms off the two top cards, and offers the rest to be shuffled. This done, he forces these two cards on different persons. On receiving back one of them, he brings it to the top; executes a false shuffle leaving it in the same position; brings it again to the middle by the pass, and has the second card replaced upon it; then, once again making the pass, brings both together to the top.

(The use of the Charlier pass is here recommended.)

The patter may be to something like the following effect: “Two cards have been chosen, ladies and gentlemen. I can’t say what they are, but I can very easily find out. I shall simply order them to rise up and paw the air. It all depends on the strength of the will. I myself happen to have a very strong will, in fact, I don’t know anyone who has a stronger will, except my wife. I exert my will, and say, ‘first card, rise!’ and up it comes, as you see.”

Stepping well back from the spectators, so that they cannot distinguish from what part of the pack the card comes, he works up the hindmost card by the familiar “hand” method. (“Modern Magic,” p. 129.)

“Here we have one of the two cards. Let us see what it is. The five of diamonds! Good! And now for the other. Second card; rise! Up comes another card, you see, the deuce of diamonds. Those are the cards which were drawn, are they not?

“Now the question arises, ‘what shall we do with them?’ It is a pity the ladies didn’t choose bigger cards. You can’t ‘go nap’[6] on a deuce and a five, can you? I think I can’t do better than use them to show you a little experiment in conjurer’s arithmetic. Will some young mathematician among the audience kindly tell us what two and five, added together, make?” (He waits for reply, but if none, pretends to hear one.) “Seven! Right first time. And if you take two from five how many remain? Three? Good again. Really there are lot of clever people about, if you know where to look for them.

“Now I want to show you that the cards know all about it themselves; in fact, they are just as clever at doing sums as we are. I will take these two cards and drop them into one of these pretty flower-pots. Let me show you first that it is quite empty.”

He lays the cards on the little mat while showing inside of flower-pot (the one with secret pocket), then picks up mat, and transfers it from hand to hand, showing, without remark, that the hands are otherwise empty, and lets the two cards slide off it into the flower-pot, the concealed cards naturally going with them.

“Now, ladies and gentlemen, what shall the cards do for you, the addition, or the subtraction sum? It is all the same to me. The addition? Very good. They can’t talk, so they will call another card from the pack to give you the answer. Yes, here we have it. Five—and two—are—seven.”

As he names each card, he produces it from the flower-pot, the third being the double-faced card, shown as the seven.

“Now I can hear what some of you are thinking. Oh, yes! I often hear what people think. You are thinking that if you had said subtraction instead of addition, I should have been in what is popularly called a hole. But you are mistaken. Now we will ask the cards to do the subtraction sum. The seven will go back to the pack, and send another card in its place.” He drops all three cards back into the flower-pot, and brings them up as before, save that this time the trick card is made to face the other way. “Five—less two—are three! Quod erat demonstrandum, as our old friend Euclid used to say when he had just floored a new poser. As the cards seem to be in a good humour, we will try them once more, and see if we can get them to do a little multiplication.” (He drops the three cards into the flower-pot, as before, but this time lets the fake card fall into the pocket.) “Five times—two—are ‘ten.’” (Showing the two cards and the ten, in that order.)

“Now I will ask some gentleman to see that these three cards really belong to the pack. The three and seven went back to it as soon as they were done with. The flower-pot, as you see, is again empty.” (He shows by lifting it that apparently it is so.)

If the first choice of the audience is for subtraction the order of production will naturally be varied accordingly.

THOSE NAUGHTY KNAVES

This item may be described, if preferred, as “Knavish Tricks.”

Requirements. Card mat loaded with knaves of spades, hearts and diamonds, taken from the pack in use. Knave of clubs on top of pack.

Presentation. Advance, palming off the knave of clubs, and offer pack to be shuffled. When it is returned, force the knave on one of the company. Borrow a hat, and after showing that it is empty, place it, crown downwards, on the table. Receive back the drawn card upon the mat, remarking that you will place it in the hat, which you do accordingly, the other three knaves going in with it. Then, assuming a worried expression, deliver patter to something like the following effect.

“I am afraid, ladies and gentlemen, that I shall not be able to show you the experiment I had intended. I have a telepathic nerve in my left thumb, a sort of private fire alarm, only more so, which always gives me warning when things are going wrong, and I feel it now. If you have read ‘Macbeth,’ you will remember that one of the witches says:

“I have often wondered whether that old lady could have been a sort of great-great-great grandmother of mine. Magic certainly runs in the family, and we may have inherited it from her. Anyhow, I have just the same sort of sensation myself. Unfortunately, in my case the warning is incomplete. I dare say you will remember that story (I rather think it’s in Macaulay’s ‘Lays of Ancient Rome’), about Little Queen Cole. Her Majesty had the misfortune to develop a mole upon her nose, and King Cole was worried about it. He consulted Old Moore and Zadkiel, and all the leading astrologers of the day, but all they could tell him was

That’s just my case. My prophetic thumb merely tells me that something is wrong, but doesn’t say what. It may be drains, or the house on fire, or something in the county court. You never can tell!

“Of course it’s nothing of that sort now. In the present case it has no doubt something to do with the experiment I want to show you. You chose your card quite freely, did you not, Madam? It never matters to me in the least what card is chosen, with the exception of one particular card, which is a holy terror. May I ask if you happened to draw the knave of clubs? Yes? I feared as much. The knave of clubs is the bane of my life. He is always endeavouring to get himself chosen, and then he does his best to upset my arrangements. And the worst of it is, he leads away the other three knaves. The four of them form a secret society, which they call ‘The cheerful blackguards.’ The knave of clubs is the president, and the rest have to do just as he tells them. He communicates with them by means of a sort of wireless telegraphy, and when he calls they go to him at once.” (You here make the “click.”) “Did you hear that sound? That’s his call now, despatched by wireless from the hat to the very middle of the pack. I have no doubt that we shall find that the other three knaves have already left it, and joined him in the hat.” (Make believe to look over the pack, and hand it to a spectator.) “Yes! just as I thought: they are all gone.” (To a spectator.) “See for yourself, sir. Not a single knave left. And here they all are, in the hat.” (Whence they are produced accordingly.)

As the “click” in some cases adds much to the effect of a trick, and as it may to some readers be an unfamiliar sleight, I may pause to explain that it is executed as follows: Take the pack in either hand, held upright between forefinger and thumb, a little more than halfway down, with the middle finger curled up behind it as in Fig. 13. With the tip of the third finger bend back the extreme bottom corners of the last half dozen or so of the cards, allowing them to escape again smartly. The sound made by the corners in springing back again constitutes the “click.” It needs a little practice, but if the cards are held properly, and the sleight worked smartly, the sound will be audible at a considerable distance, whilst the movement of the finger producing it is quite invisible to the spectators.

But we have not yet done with our trick. You may resume as follows:

“I will give you a further illustration of what I have to put up with from the knaves. I should like you to be satisfied that I have nothing to do with their bad behaviour.” (You palm off the three top cards, and with the same hand offer the four knaves to a spectator.) “Will you, sir, make sure that these really are the four knaves, and then place them here on the top of the pack,”—offered with the left hand. When the knaves have been laid upon it, you transfer it to the opposite hand, and palm on to them the three concealed cards, but immediately slide them off again, with the uppermost of the four knaves beneath them. You hold them up in a careless way, so that the audience, catching sight of this card, may be confirmed in the belief that the cards exhibited in the right hand are really the four knaves.

“Here we have the four knaves, at present all together. I will now distribute them in different parts of the pack, as far apart as possible. One here, nearly at the bottom, one a little higher up, another about the middle, and this last” (you show it carelessly), “close to the top.” (This, being a genuine knave, must be placed among the other knaves.) “They could hardly be placed farther apart than that: but to make things a little more difficult for them, I will ask some lady to cut the cards.”

This done, and the cards handed back to you, you repeat the click. “There it is again: the wireless signal. You can all bear witness that I have nothing to do with the matter. Now, Sir, will you kindly examine the pack, and unless I am much mistaken, you will find that the other three knaves have answered Black Jack’s call, and that the four cheerful blackguards have got together again, in which case, with your permission, I will leave them severely alone, and try some other experiment.”

The expert will recognise this last effect as a “chestnut” among card tricks, but it is none the worse on that account, and it forms a particularly appropriate sequel to the principal trick.

If the performer possesses the “flower-pot,” one of these will naturally be used in place of the hat.

MAGNETIC MAGIC

Requirements. Card mat, loaded with a single known card (precise nature optional). Pack of cards with corresponding card at top. A horseshoe magnet, the larger the better for the sake of effect. The two flower-pots, placed at some distance apart, preferably on separate tables.

We will suppose that the card selected for the purpose of the trick is the ten of spades. Performer advances, and delivers patter to something like the following effect.

“By way of a change, I should like now to show you a little experiment in magnetism, but magnetism of a new kind. The old sort was a comparatively poor affair. It was only useful with iron or steel. Anything else it wouldn’t attract for nuts. My sort of magnetism is a very superior article. It will attract all sorts of things, so long as they are not too heavy, like a sack of coals, or a lawyer’s bill. So far, I have been chiefly experimenting with cards, and I will show you how it works.

“I want three ladies each to choose a card from this pack.” (He forces the ten of spades, allowing the other two cards to be chosen freely, and takes all three back, face down, on the mat, keeping in mind which of them is the forced card.) “I will take one of these cards.” (He picks up the forced card, and holds it aloft.) “Please all notice what it is: I don’t want to see it myself. I drop it into this pretty flower-pot” (actually dropping it into the secret pocket). “And now as to these other two.” (He picks them up and shows them, then replacing them on the mat.) “These I will place in the other flower-pot. First, however, I will show you that at present it is empty.” He does so, and then lets the two cards slide off the mat into the pot, the concealed card going with them.

“Now I take this magnet. It is a very powerful magnet, and I make it still more vigorous by rubbing it on my left coat sleeve. Do you know why on the left? You all give it up? Because in this case the left happens to be right. Simple, when you know it, isn’t it? Again, you will observe that one-half of this magnet is painted red. Can you guess why that is? It’s so that when it is wanted it is sure to be ‘reddy.’ I hear a lady smile! Thank you so much! This is the eleven hundred and third time I have let off that little impromptu joke, and no one has ever laughed at it till now.

“Well, as I was saying, or as I was going to say when the lady interrupted me—I mean complimented me, by smiling—Upon my word, I’ve forgotten for the moment what I was going to say, but I daresay it was of no consequence, so we’ll skip it, and proceed at once to ‘business as usual.’

“Observe, I just draw the magnet slowly across from the one flower-pot to the other, when the single card, being naturally the weaker, will be drawn out of its own flower-pot, and join the other two.” (Looks into flower-pot holding the pair.)

“Yes, it has found its way, as you see.” (Lifts the pot, and shows that the third card is on the table with the other two.) “And as it’s a well-known fact that nobody but a bird can be in two places at the same time, it naturally follows that it is no longer in this other pot, which is once more empty.” (Lifts it up and shows that it is so.)

Variation. If the flower-pots are not available, the single card may be placed in a card box, or other suitable appliance adapted for causing its disappearance, the other two, with the concealed card, being dropped from the mat into a borrowed hat.

THE TELEPATHIC TAPE

Requirements. Two or three yards of half-inch tape or ribbon, wound on a reel, to which its inner end is secured, and having a loop on its outer end. Coin mat made adhesive, and two packs of cards, which we will call A and B respectively. From pack A take a court card (say the queen of diamonds), and press it face down against the waxed side of the mat: then turn this over, and place the rest of the pack upon its unprepared side. On the top of pack B lay the corresponding card, in readiness for forcing. This pack also to be placed on table.

Presentation. Advance with pack A on the mat. Invite a gentleman to take it in his own hands and after shuffling, to pick out a card, and without looking at it, lay it face down on the mat. Remark: “I have asked you not to look at the card, because I find people fancy I find out by what is called thought-reading, and if you don’t know the card yourself, I can’t find it out that way, can I? You are sure you don’t know what card you have taken? I can honestly say that I don’t. Now please notice that I don’t look at it, or even touch it—I will place it here, where you can all keep an eye on it. You had better keep the other eye on me.”

You accordingly place the mat on the table, in transit keeping the card just laid upon it in place by the pressure of the thumb, and just as you reach the table, under cover of your own body, turn over the mat, so as to bring the adhering card uppermost.

You then say, picking up the reel, “I must now introduce to your notice my telepathic tape. Like myself, it isn’t anything particular to look at, but it has an extraordinary talent for finding out things; even secrets that people don’t know themselves. Now you will admit that the name of that card on the table is at present an A1, copperbottomed secret. Even the gentleman who chose the card doesn’t know what it is; you don’t know; in fact nobody knows. Nothing could well be more secret than that. But this tape will find it out. Will you, Sir,”—(addressing the gentleman who chose the card) “be kind enough to pass this loop over your left little finger. Thank you, and now I want some lady to assist me. Perhaps you will oblige, Madam?” A sufficient length of the tape is unrolled, and the reel placed in the lady’s hands. “And now I will ask you to do me the further favor of taking a card from this other pack.” (The second queen is forced on the lady.)

“Now, Madam, what was the card the gentleman chose? You don’t know? Oh, yes, you do. The tape has told you. Unless it has betrayed me for the first time in my experience, it will have compelled you by an effect of sympathy to draw the very same kind of card as the one freely chosen, as you will remember from the other pack. What card did you draw? The queen of diamonds?” (Goes to table, and turns up card on tray.) “The tape was right, you see. The card the gentleman drew is also a queen of diamonds.”

In default of the card mat, the trick can be equally well performed by the aid of the card-box, or any other appliance for “changing” a card.

A CARD COMEDY

This may be otherwise described for programme purposes as “A Royal Row,” or “A Row in a Royal Family.”

Preparation. Card mat loaded with two kings of hearts: one of them taken from the pack to be used: the other a spare card. The king of clubs and queen of hearts to be laid on top of pack. The two flower-pots on table.

Presentation. Advancing to the company, palm off the two top cards, and hand the pack to be shuffled. This done, force the palmed cards on two different persons. Then say, “I want you to take notice that I do not handle or tamper in any way with either of the cards you have chosen. Please lay them yourselves face down on this mat. Thank you. Now still without touching them I will put them temporarily in this elegant flower-pot, which you observe is quite empty. You see that it has neither top nor bottom, and nothing between. You couldn’t have anything much emptier than that, could you?”

Having duly exhibited the flower-pot (this by the way must be the one without pocket) you let the two drawn cards slide off the mat into it, the two concealed kings going with them. Then, assuming a perplexed air, you say, “I don’t know why it is, but I have that peculiar sensation in my left thumb that always means that something has gone wrong. What it is in this case I can’t imagine, but I must find out before we go further. As the two chosen cards have passed out of my hands, I may now ask the ladies who drew them to name them.

“The queen of hearts and the king of clubs, you say? Ah! that accounts for it. When those two cards come together there is sure to be trouble. The queen of hearts is a bit of a flirt, and the king of hearts is very jealous, particularly of the king of clubs, who is rather a gay dog, though he is old enough to know better. I fancy I hear some sort of commotion going on in the flower-pot.” (You look into it.) “Yes, it is just as I feared. The king of hearts has found out that his queen has gone off with the king of clubs, and has followed the queen post-haste. Here he is, you see.” (You plunge hand into flower-pot, and take out and exhibit the two drawn cards, and with them one of the two kings of hearts.) “It’s too bad, for as a matter of fact the queen of hearts doesn’t really care two-pence about the king of clubs. In fact she has even been known to call him a giddy old kipper.

“But I can’t have my arrangements upset by these little family jars. To teach the king of hearts better manners I shall put him in solitary confinement. We will drop him into the other flower-pot, which, as you see, is also empty.” (The card is in this case not dropped through the pot, but into the pocket.)

“Now we shall be able to get on. No! my left thumb tells me that there is still something not quite right.” (Glance into second flower-pot.) “Upon my word, this is too bad. The king of hearts has already got away and followed the queen again.” (Lift flower-pot, and show that the king has disappeared.) “I thought I had him safe, but his prison, as you see, is empty, and here he is again in the first flower-pot.” (Show the three cards accordingly.) “He is too many for me; I can’t show you what I had intended. I must give it up and try something else.”

Variation. Load mat with a single king of hearts and the queen of clubs, the latter taken from the pack. Proceed as before up to the putting of the king in prison, and then exhibit the queen of clubs, as having come in pursuit of her spouse, the patter being modified accordingly. The imprisoned king of hearts will still be found to have escaped, but in this case to have returned to the pack.

For lack of the two flower-pots, the drawn cards may be dropped with the concealed pair into a borrowed hat, and the jealous king made to escape from a card-box, or some similar appliance.

Apropos of the card-box, by the way, I have always had a sort of affection for this in its oldest and simplest form, viz., the reversible flat box with loose flap falling from the one into the other half at pleasure. I should not recommend the use of it at a school treat, as there would be much risk of some demon small boy proclaiming to all whom it might concern that he “knows how that’s done,” but before an average mixed audience its use is safe enough. Should one of the spectators happen to be acquainted with the box he will probably smile in a superior way, pluming himself on having a little inside information, though he may be no nearer the complete solution of the trick than the rest of the company.

The expert will easily guard himself against even this small risk. For example, he may use a duplicate box, innocent of guile, ostensibly merely to contain the cards he is about to use, and after turning the pack out of it upon the table, switch this (obviously empty) box for the faked box to be used later, or after using the latter he may extract the fake and the superseded card during the journey back to his table, where the box will of course be inspection-proof.

Better still, he may make matters absolutely safe by using an improved box, which has been christened the “Fast and Loose” card-box. This is a recent invention of an Italian wizard named Veroni, of Glasgow (an old soldier of Garibaldi). It is an idealised version of the old flat box, being of the same shape, but a trifle larger. The loose slab is retained, but it is only loose when the performer desires it to be so. The box may be handled beforehand with the utmost freedom, and after a card has been placed in it it may be closed and re-opened any number of times, nothing happening till, “Presto,” a mere touch in the right place, and the flap is free. When the box is now closed, this falls into the opposite portion, concealing the card, or producing another; and again locking itself, automatically, in its new position. The box in this condition will again stand the closest scrutiny.

Whether this box is yet placed upon the market I cannot say (having myself been favoured with a sight of an “advance” model), but it will certainly commend itself to all who appreciate a good thing in the way of ingenuity of contrivance and mechanical finish.

A ROYAL TUG OF WAR

Preparation. Card mat to be loaded with king of hearts and king of diamonds, not taken from the pack in use. Flower-pots on table.

Performer advances with ordinary pack, delivering patter to something like the following effect. “It is not generally known, ladies and gentlemen, what a lot of human nature there is about a pack of cards. They have their likes and dislikes, and their little tempers, just as we have. Some of them are bosom friends; others again hate each other like rival suitors to the same best girl. The four kings are generally pretty friendly, but there is a good deal of emulation between them, particularly between the two red kings on the one hand, and the two black ones on the other. Each pair claims to be the stronger, and they are always pleased to have a chance of putting the matter to the test.

“I will give you an illustration of this, by allowing them to hold a little tug of war. They have already had six trials, and each side has won three of them. This evening we will let them play a final game, which is to settle the matter. Will you, sir, kindly pick out the four kings for me, and lay them on this little tray. Thank you!” (This done, performer lays mat with cards on table.)

“I will drop the two red kings into this flower-pot.” He takes them from the mat and after showing them drops them into the flower-pot (in reality into the pocket), “and the black ones into this other.” (The black kings are allowed to slide directly off the mat, into the flower-pot, the concealed pair going with them.) “Are your Majesties ready? Silence gives consent! Then Go!”

He waits a moment or two, and then looks over into the flower-pot with the pocket. “Nothing has happened yet. Yes, there goes the king of diamonds, pulled over to the other side. There’s not much chance now for the poor king of hearts, left single-handed. He won’t hold out long. Yes! Now he is gone too.”

Performer lifts flower-pot, with fingers inside pressing against pocket, and shows it apparently empty. “And here, in the other flower-pot” (lifts it and shows the four cards lying together on table) “are all four Kings. One more score to black. You didn’t see the cards go? Of course you didn’t; because they fly horizontally, like the aeroplanes, and they go so fast that they get there almost before they have started.”

SYMPATHETIC CARDS

Preparation. Card mat loaded with two cards of different denomination, say the queen of clubs and the knave of diamonds, taken from the pack. Flower-pots on table.

Presentation. Force the corresponding cards of same colour (in this case the queen of spades and the knave of hearts), lay the pack aside, and take the drawn cards back face down on the mat, leaving them thus on table till needed. The patter may run as follows:

“As I think I have mentioned before, the cards of a pack, from long association, become a sort of family. They have their likes and dislikes, just as human beings have. In particular, there is a curious bond of sympathy between each pair of the same colour, say the king of hearts and the king of diamonds, or the ten of clubs and ten of spades. If they are parted, and they possibly can, they will get together again.

“I will try to give you an example with the cards that have been drawn. We will put them for the moment in this pretty flower-pot, which, as you see, is quite empty.” (Show by lifting it up, that it is so, and then drop the two cards from the mat into it, the concealed pair going with them.) “They will only require to be assisted by a gentle electric current, which I shall create by waving my wand, so.

“Before we go any further, will the ladies who drew the cards say what they were,—I don’t mind asking you now, because they have passed out of my control. The queen of spades and the knave of hearts, you say? A fortunate choice, for the queen of spades and the knave of hearts happen to be particular friends, so I think we may now be sure of success. Now to establish the wireless wave, and I doubt not the queen of clubs and the knave of diamonds will speedily find them. (Make any appropriate gesture with wand.)

“Did you notice a little flash, like the striking of a very inferior lucifer match in a gale of wind? That’s when they went. Quick work, isn’t it? The cards were timed by two gentlemen one evening, each with his own watch. By the one gentleman’s watch they started at one minute past nine, and by the other gentleman’s watch, they arrived at one minute to nine, so it is clear that they must have made the journey in two minutes less than no time. But let us make sure that they have arrived.” Lift the flower-pot, and show the four cards lying on the table together. “And now, to convince you that there is no deception, will some lady or gentleman kindly look through the pack, and make sure that the queen of clubs and knave of diamonds have really left it.” Which is found to be the case.

The trick may of course be worked with any two pairs of cards, the mat being loaded and the corresponding cards forced accordingly.

TELL-TALE FINGERS

The discovery, in some more or less mysterious way, of an unknown card is one of the stock feats of the conjurer, and indeed in one shape or another is one of the most hackneyed of card tricks. But the wise magician never discards a good trick simply because it is an old one. He repolishes it, adds a bit here, takes away a bit there, presents it in a new shape and with new patter, and behold! the “chestnut” of yesterday becomes a latest novelty of today.

To obtain the maximum effect from a trick of the above kind, it is necessary in the first place to convince the spectator that the drawn card cannot possibly be known beforehand to the performer; and in the second place to persuade him that it is discovered in some actually impossible (and therefore magical) way; taking advantage, where possible, of some known scientific truth which may lend colour to your suggestion. It is surprising, in conjuring matters, how much even the smallest percentage of fact increases the power of the average spectator for swallowing fiction. The patter for the trick which follows has been arranged upon these lines.

The requisites for the trick are a pack of cards from which three known cards have been withdrawn and palmed (or so placed to be in instant readiness for palming), a hand-mirror, and a silk handkerchief.

The introductory oration may run somewhat as follows:

“You all know, ladies and gentlemen, what an important part finger-prints now play in the detection of crime. Happily there is no connection between conjuring and crime, beyond the fact that they both begin with a C. No conjurer that I know of has ever murdered anybody or been murdered himself, and when a conjurer borrows a half-crown, he always—well, almost always returns it. But each one of us, whether criminal or curate, burglar or bishop, possesses a definite set of finger-prints, quite unlike those of anybody else. And, what is more, we cannot touch anything, ever so lightly, without leaving upon it our sign manual in the shape of a more or less perfect impression of our fingers, imperceptible to ourselves, but quite visible to the expert in such matters.

“Practice in distinguishing such points forms a highly interesting study. Of course it must be pursued with a proper amount of tact, or it may get you into trouble, as in the case of a gentleman I once heard of who took up the study with more zeal than discretion. He said to his wife, not leading up to the subject gently, as he should have done, but in a peremptory sort of way, ‘Maria, I want your finger-prints.’ Unfortunately, Maria was rather a quick-tempered lady, and she had just been having a few words, of a hostile nature, with the cook. She slapped his face, and said, ‘Well, now you’ve got ’em.’ He had! They were very distinct, but not quite in the shape he wanted. I am going to ask permission to read some of your finger-prints, but, I trust without fear of such painful results.

“In the first place, I should like this pack of cards to be thoroughly well shuffled.”

While this is done, performer palms the three known cards, and when the pack is returned, proceeds to force them on different members of the company. Each of the drawers is requested to allow his or her card to lie for a few moments face down on the palm of the outspread hand. The cards drawn are then returned to the pack, which is again shuffled, and spread face upward on the table.

“Each of the three cards which have been drawn now has a complete set of finger-prints upon its surface, but there are no doubt others on many other cards, the result of previous handling. To enable me to distinguish the right ones, I must ask each person who chose a card to give me, for the purpose of comparison, a fresh impression, on the glass of this mirror. First, however, we must remove any prints that may already be upon it.”

He accordingly breathes upon the glass, and wipes it carefully with the handkerchief.

“Now, Sir” (to the person who first drew), “will you kindly press your hand flat against the glass. Thank you. Not a very clear impression, but I dare say it will be good enough. I have now only to discover the card bearing the same imprint, and I shall know that it was the one you drew.” (He picks it out from the exposed cards on the table.) “Here it is, I think, the —— of ——” (as the case may be).

The other two cards are then discovered after the same fashion. As the performer knows beforehand what they are, this will give him little trouble, but he will be wise, for the sake of effect, not to discover them too readily. For the same reason, great importance should ostensibly be attached to the thorough cleaning of the hand mirror before each new attempt, so as to get a clear impression.

The trick as above described can be worked with any pack of cards, but where those used are the performer’s own property, he can make it even more effective by marking the three cards to be freed in such a way as to be distinguishable (by himself only) by their backs. The drawers in this case are requested to press their hand against the back of the card, and the cards are spread face down upon the table, the performer apparently not knowing the nature of the card indicated to him until he has turned it up.

DIVINATION DOUBLY DIFFICULT

This trick, though it merely rests upon a combination of methods already familiar to the expert, may as a whole fairly claim to be a complete novelty. The mise en scÈne is so simple, and the room for deception apparently so small, that to the uninitiated it seems like a genuine miracle. Unlike most card tricks, it is even better adapted to the stage than to the drawing-room.

The effect of the trick, baldly stated, is that the performer divines the nature of nine cards, selected apparently quite haphazard, and then picks out the corresponding cards from another pack, freely shuffled and covered by a handkerchief.

The requirements for the trick consist of two packs of cards, and an envelope with adhesive flap, of such a size as to accommodate one of them. One of the two packs is a “forcing” pack, consisting of three cards only, each seventeen times repeated. The cards of each kind are however not grouped all together, as is usually the case, but are arranged after the manner explained in More Magic (p. 13), viz.: assuming the three cards to be the knave of clubs, the seven of spades, and the nine of diamonds, the pack will consist of groups of those three cards, in the same order, repeated throughout. The effect of this arrangement is that, wherever the pack be cut, the three cards above or below the cut will always be a set of those three cards: and the same result follows, however many times the pack may be cut, or however many such groups may have been taken from it.

The second pack has no preparation, but the three cards corresponding to those of which the forcing pack is composed are so placed as to be ready to hand for palming.

The performer advances with the forcing pack, meanwhile executing a false shuffle of the kind which leaves the pack as if cut, but otherwise undisturbed as to order. Holding the pack on the outstretched palm of his left hand, he invites someone to cut it. This done, he takes back with the other hand the upper portion of the cut, and says, “You have cut where you pleased, have you not? If you think I made cut at that particular point, you can cut again. You are satisfied? Then I will ask you to be good enough to take three cards from the top of this lower heap. Keep them carefully. Don’t let me see them: in fact don’t show them just yet to anyone, but please remember exactly what they are.” He replaces the top half of the cut, and passing to another spectator, at some little distance from the first, has the pack cut again, and a second three cards taken in like manner. This is repeated with a third person, just far enough away from the second as to preclude any possibility of the three drawers comparing their cards.

“Now, ladies and gentlemen, you must all agree that I have not sought to influence the choice of these gentlemen” (or ladies, as the case may be) “in the slightest degree, and it must be equally clear to you that I cannot possibly know even one of the cards that have been chosen. To make sure that I do not get sight of them in any way, we will have them placed, with the remainder of the pack, in this envelope.” He collects the cards accordingly, allowing each person who drew to replace his cards himself in the envelope, and requesting the last person to moisten the flap, and make all secure.

Returning to his table, he places the closed envelope in full view. “I shall now want the assistance of some gentleman. Thank you, sir. Will you kindly shuffle this other pack for me.” (He runs the cards over fanwise, showing their faces, so as to prove that they are an ordinary mixed pack: then hands them to be shuffled, and while this is being done, palms the three secreted cards.) “Shuffle them thoroughly, please, and then spread them a little, faces down, upon the table, and lay your handkerchief over them.

“Now I am going, in the first place, to attempt a little thought-reading. I shall endeavour by that means to discover the three cards each person chose, and then, by means of the sense of touch, which I have cultivated to a rather unusual degree, to pick them out, without seeing them, from among the cards under the handkerchief. I shall only ask one indulgence. To leave a little margin for possible mistakes. I shall ask your permission to pick out four cards instead of three for each person, so as to give me one extra chance. Will the gentleman who drew first kindly look my way, and say to himself slowly, the names of the cards he drew. Thank you, Sir! I think I read them right.” He inserts his hand under the handkerchief, and after a little pretended fumbling, brings out the three palmed cards, with one indifferent card in front of them. He does not show or look at them, but asks the second chooser to think hard of his three cards, afterwards taking four more from under the handkerchief. Having done the same in the case of the third drawer, he spreads the twelve cards he has taken from under the handkerchief, and shows them fanwise. Addressing the first drawer, he says, “Your three cards are among these, I think, sir?” and the same question is then addressed to the other two choosers, the answer being of course in the affirmative.

“Now, gentlemen, in order to prove that there is no deception, I will take away three cards at a time, one from each set of three. Pray observe that from beginning to end, I have not looked at the face of any card.” He accordingly removes one of the forced, and two of the indifferent cards, making however some pretence of selection and throws them aside. “There are now only two cards belonging to each gentleman left. That is so, is it not?”

The question is addressed to each of the three drawers in turn, and answered accordingly, after which the same process is again twice repeated.

“And now, gentlemen, we have three cards left, belonging to neither of you, which is just as it should be. It is a peculiarity of this experiment that if it comes out right it always brings good luck to those taking part in it, so you may all fairly expect to live happily ever afterwards, and I trust you will.”

If the performance is given before the family circle, or very intimate friends (who sometimes consider themselves privileged to be disagreeable), it is just possible that some ill-mannered person, in the hope of embarrassing the conjurer, may ask at the close to be allowed to examine the envelope containing the drawn cards. Such an examination, if permitted, would of course largely give away the trick. If the performer has any reason to fear such a contingency, he may guard against it by “switching” the envelope, during his return to the table with it, for a duplicate containing an ordinary mixed pack. In some part of this the three cards corresponding to those drawn should be placed together, as the obnoxious person, if himself one of the drawers, will naturally expect so to find them.

At a public performance such a precaution would be supererogatory.

A NEW LONG CARD PACK AND A TRICK DEPENDENT ON ITS USE

Some few months ago I was shown by a clever amateur, Mr. Victor Farrelly, a pack of cards prepared, after a method of his own, to replace in a more subtle form, the familiar biseautÉ pack. Mr. Farrelly’s plan is to round off, in a very minute degree, three of the corners of an ordinary pack. If a given card be turned round in a pack so treated, it is obvious that its unfiled corner will project, to a microscopic extent, beyond those above and below it, rendering the card instantly discoverable by touch.

Mr. Farrelly’s idea is decidedly ingenious, but the uses of the biseautÉ pack are rather limited, and the fact that the pack must be reversed before the card is replaced in it is a drawback. It struck me, on reflection, that the idea might be developed, in a slightly different direction, to greater advantage.

My own plan is as follows: Two packs, exactly alike are used. As to one of these, I treat all four corners after the manner indicated by Mr. Farrelly, when any card of the second pack, inserted into the one so treated, naturally becomes in effect, a long card. There is in this case no need to reverse the pack, and as the minute projection is duplicated at each end of the diagonal, a less degree of rounding off is necessary.

As a practical illustration of the possible uses of such a pack, I offer the trick which I am about to describe. The expert will recognise that, save for the use of the new pack, it is merely a combination of well-known methods, but as regards the mode of presentation it is original, and I think will be found worthy of a place in the rÉpertoire of the card-conjurer.

For the purpose of description we will call the pack with rounded corners the “short,” and the other the “long” pack. Three known cards are borrowed from the long pack, which may then be put aside, as it plays no further part in the trick. These three cards are palmed, and after the short pack has been shuffled by one of the company, are added to it, and forced upon three different spectators. We will suppose that the three selected cards are the queen of hearts, forced on a gentleman; the king of clubs and the ten of diamonds; the two last mentioned forced on ladies.

This done, each of the drawers is invited to replace his or her card in the pack, which is passed from the one to the other for that purpose, and before it is returned to you is once more shuffled. You then deliver a “yarn” to something like the following effect:

“Please bear in mind, ladies and gentlemen, exactly what has been done. To begin with, you have seen that the pack was thoroughly well shuffled. Three cards were then freely chosen from it. They have been put back, not by me, but by the persons who drew them, and the pack has since been shuffled again. It is therefore obviously impossible that I should know either what cards have been chosen, or whereabouts they may now be in the pack. But I enjoy impossibilities. The more impossible a thing is, the more I want to do it. I will find out these cards or die! Don’t be alarmed, I don’t mean to die just yet; so I must do the other thing. It’s easy enough, if you know how to do it.

“In the first place I cut the pack into three portions.” (You cut three times, nipping the “long” corners between second finger and thumb, at each of the drawn cards in succession, and placing the cards left at bottom on one or other of the three heaps; then solemnly rub your wand, without remark, with a silk handkerchief, and lay it across the tops of the three packets.)

“Now, if the electric influence is strong enough, the three chosen cards will gradually sink down to the bottom of these three heaps. A nice easy way of finding them out, is it not? It will take a minute or two for the charm to operate, so in the meantime I will try to find out the names of the cards for myself by thought-reading. You drew a card, I think, Sir? Will you kindly think of that card, as hard as you can, and meanwhile look straight at me? Thank you. Judging by physiognomy, I should say that you were rather a ladies’ man. Don’t blush, Sir. It’s nothing to be ashamed of, is it, ladies? But he did blush, didn’t he? Now, being a ladies’ man, you will naturally have chosen one of the ladies of the pack, that is to say one of the queens, and your blush suggests that it was a red queen. Now there are only two red queens to choose from. The queen of hearts represents Love, and the queen of diamonds Money. If I read your thoughts aright I feel safe in declaring that you chose the queen of hearts. That is right, I think? Quite simple, when you know how it’s done.

“And now, Madam, for your card. I can see at a glance that you have a liking for aristocratic society, and you will therefore naturally have chosen a king. But which king? Think hard of your card, please. A picture of a dark-complexioned gentleman comes up before my mind’s eye, and I feel that I can say with confidence that the card you chose was the king of clubs. Am I right?

“And you, Madam. I have an idea that you have a taste for pretty things, particularly jewellery. Such being the case, you would naturally choose diamonds. Think of your card, please. Thank you. I see I was right in my guess. The card you chose was the ten of diamonds.

“And now to verify my discoveries. If my wand has done its work, those same three cards will now have percolated through the rest, and settled down at the bottom of these three heaps. Let us see whether they have done so.” (The three heaps are turned over.) “Yes, here we have them: the king of clubs, the queen of hearts, and the ten of diamonds. It is a curious thing for the cards to do, and I daresay you would like to know how it is done. As a matter of fact, it is done by synthetic re-adjustment of dissociated atoms. You don’t know what that means, perhaps? Well, to say the truth, I don’t quite know myself, but that is the scientific explanation, so no doubt it is correct.”

The trick may very well end at this point, but if the reader possesses a card-box, or other apparatus adapted for “vanishing” cards, he may bring it to a still more striking conclusion. In this case he may continue as follows:

“Now, I should like to show you a curious effect of sympathy. I take away these three cards and hand the rest of the pack to the gentleman who drew the queen of hearts. Kindly hold it up above your head where all can see it. The three drawn cards” (show them one by one) “I place in this box. Again I electrify my wand a little, and lay it across the box. Now I want each gentleman or lady to think of his or her card. Think of it kindly, and feel as if you would like to see it again. Think hard, please, because it is you, not I, that perform this experiment, and if you don’t think hard it will be a failure. I am pleased to see by the expression of your countenances that you are all thinking hard. Thank you very much. You may leave off now. The deed is done. The three cards have left the box, and gone back to the pack. Please look it through, sir, and tell the company whether it is not so.”

The reader, being familiar with the wiles of conjurers, will doubtless have guessed that the three cards supposed to have returned to the pack have in fact never left it, being those naturally belonging to it, corresponding with the three long cards. But to the outsider their supposed return will be, in the words of the lamented Lord Dundreary, “one of those things that no fellow can understand.”

As regards the disappearance of the three cards, the performer is of course by no means restricted to the use of the card-box. If he is an expert in sleight-of-hand, he may with even better effect, “vanish” them one by one by means of the back palm, dropping them a moment later into the profonde.

This is a little device on the same principle as the well-known flat card-box, but adapted for use with coins, and with an addition which largely increases its utility inasmuch as it will not only enable the performer to “change” or “vanish,” but to get instant and secret possession of a coin placed in it.

The box (see Fig. 14) is of ebonized wood, unpolished, and in size about three inches square. It consists of two parts (a and b), which are alike in size and appearance, so that either half may be regarded as “box” and either as “lid,” at pleasure, according as the one or the other is made uppermost, no difference being perceptible between them. In the centre of each half is a circular well, not quite two inches in diameter.

Used with the box is a thin disc of wood corresponding to that of which the box is made. This is of such diameter as to fall easily from the one well into the other, according to the way in which the box is turned, but on the other hand fits so closely within that its presence or absence is not perceptible to sight. If a coin be laid in the box upon the disc and the box is then closed and turned over, the disc settles down over the coin in the opposite half, either leaving the box apparently empty or exhibiting in place of the original coin a substitute with which the opposite side of the box has been previously loaded.

Thus far, as the reader will doubtless have perceived, the effect produced (save that a coin instead of a card is dealt with) is precisely the same as in the case of the card-box. But the “mascot” has a speciality of its own, in the fact that in that half of the box marked a (see Fig. 14) a horizontal slot is cut on the side opposite to the hinge, just long enough and wide enough to allow the passage of a half-crown. The wood being dead black, this small opening is invisible save to close inspection, which the box is never called upon to undergo.

When it is desired to gain secret possession of a coin lent by one of the company, the lender is invited to place it himself in the box, held open bookwise as in Fig. 14, the side b of the box having been previously loaded with a duplicate coin.

The lender of the coin may place it in whichever side of the box he pleases, but the manner of closing the box will vary accordingly. If he places it in the side a, the opposite (or loaded) side is treated as the lid and turned down over a. In this case, the coin being already in the slotted half, no turn-over of the box is necessary, the performer having merely to allow the coin to slip out into his hand. In the opposite case, viz., that of the coin being placed in b, a is treated as the lid, and the coin being in this case above the disc the box must be turned over before it can be extracted. If preferred the performer can hold the box so that the coin will naturally be placed in b, but in this case the turn-over is unavoidable.

When the box is again opened, the duplicate coin is revealed in place of the original, which is meanwhile dealt with as may be necessary for the purpose of the trick. After the borrowed coin has been extracted, the further fall of the disc closes the slot, and bars any possibility of the substitute coin escaping in the same way.

The following will be found an easy way of working the exchange.

“For the purpose of my next experiment,” says the performer, “I shall have to ask the loan of a half-crown; marked in such a way that you can be sure of knowing it again. I should like one, if possible, that has seen some service, for a coin in the course of circulation imbibes a certain amount of magnetic fluid from each person who handles it; and this renders a well-worn coin more susceptible to magical influences than a new one.”

The reason alleged for asking the loan of an old coin is of course “spoof,” but there is a reason; and it is two-fold. In the first place it ensures your getting a coin tolerably like your own; which you have chosen in accordance with that description, and which you have marked after some commonplace fashion, say with a cross scratched upon one of its faces. Secondly, a well-worn coin, having lost the sharp edge which is caused by the milling in a new one, passes the more easily through the slot, which for obvious reasons is kept as narrow as possible.

Performer, advancing toward the person offering the coin, continues:

“I don’t want even to touch the coin myself till the very last moment, so I will ask you meanwhile to put it in this little box. I believe it was built for a watch-case, but as I don’t happen to need one, I use it to hold my money, when I have any, or when I can get somebody to lend me some.”

The box is held open bookwise, as above mentioned, and closed according to circumstances, in one or the other of the two ways described.

“I will now ask some gentleman to take charge of the coin in the box. Who will do so? You will, Sir? Thank you. But stay! I think I heard somebody say (it was only said in a whisper but I heard it) ‘I don’t believe the half crown is in the box.’ It is very sad to find people so suspicious, especially when I take such pains to prove that there is ‘no deception.’ But the gentleman was wrong, you see.” (He opens box, and shows the substitute coin.) “Here it is. Take it out, sir, and keep it in your own hands till I ask you for it again.”

During the delivery of the patter the borrowed coin has been extracted, and the coin exhibited in the box and handed for safe-keeping is, of course, the substitute. The box, as being no longer needed, is laid without remark upon the table, and the trick proceeds, after whatever may have been its intended fashion.