Professor Hoffmann

Requirements. Coin mat loaded with two double pennies, shell side undermost. Lighted candle and velvet mat (with pocket) on table.

Presentation. Performer comes forward with coin mat hanging down in his right hand (mouth of loaded space upwards), and asks for the loan of a penny, marked in some conspicuous way. Receiving it on the mat, he shows it, so placed, to the persons, seated on each side of the owner, in so doing making it obvious to them, without remark, that his hands are otherwise empty. Then returning to his table, with the mat and the coin on it still in his hand, he delivers patter to the following effect:

“Now I am going to show you a nice easy way of making money. I was told when I was a small boy, ‘Take care of the pence, and the pounds will take care of themselves.’ I believe they do. The pounds take such good care of themselves that very few of them seem to come my way. But you can make a bit even with pennies, if you know how to set about it. All you need is a really good penny to start with. It doesn’t matter how you get the penny. You may beg, borrow, or steal it. Personally, I prefer to borrow it. If you try the other two ways you get yourself disliked, but you can always get people to lend you things, if you ask prettily; and I’ve always been celebrated for my nice borrowing manner. You must all have noticed that the gentleman lent me a penny without the slightest hesitation. I daresay if I had asked him, he would have made it two-pence, or even six-pence, if he had as much about him. In this case, however, one penny is enough for my purpose; and here it is with the owner’s own mark upon it. Observe that it is just a plain ordinary penny, and you can see for yourselves that it is the only one I have—in my hands, I mean. I am always truthful. As a matter of fact, I believe I have another in my left trouser-pocket, but I promise you that I won’t use it.”

Pass mat, with coin on it, from one hand to the other, showing the hands otherwise empty, and leaving the mat finally in the right hand: then let the marked coin slide off it into left hand, the concealed coins passing with it. Put down the mat, and show all three coins together (the marked coin in front) held between forefinger and thumb, broadside toward the spectators. Thus held, they are, even at a few feet distant, undistinguishable from a single coin.

“Now I am going to make money. Not much, perhaps, in fact only a penny at a time. I shall start by making this one penny into two. Cent per cent is not bad, is it? Observe, I use no violence. It’s all done by kindness. I just warm the coin a little over this candle-flame. That softens the metal and I am able to squeeze another penny out of this one, so!”

Show as two accordingly, by sliding off the hindermost coin in its shell, exhibiting it on both sides, and laying it on the table.

“You have all heard of turning an honest penny. Well, this is one way of doing it. It is said, too, that one good turn deserves another, so we’ll try again. I warm the first penny a little more, and again I pull another out of it.” (Draw second double coin from behind the original penny.) “Now we have three, two in my hands” (showing one in each hand) “and one on the table.

“I think I heard somebody say that I couldn’t make any more? I don’t like to do it, because the process takes a good deal out of the original penny, and I might spoil it. On the other hand, I don’t like to decline a challenge, so here goes! I warm these two again, and then, with a little extra pressure, because it naturally becomes more difficult each time, I get yet another penny, as you see. So now, in all, we have four.” (Show those in hand as three, by drawing solid coin out of shell, then, picking up double coin from mat, show as four accordingly.) “Did I hear a lady say ‘Just one more’? Well, then, one more.” (Develop the double coin just picked up, and show as five.) “But here I must really draw the line. If I kept on like this, there would be none of the original penny left. It is already getting weaker and weaker. Besides, there wouldn’t be time for anything else, and I have several still more wonderful things to show you.

“And now to put these extra pennies back again into the original coin. At present it is only one-fifth its proper weight and if the owner tried to pass it in this condition there would be trouble. I should explain, by the way, that these others are not really solid coins: though they look like it. They are what the spiritualists call astral coins, if you know what that means: I don’t quite know myself; so I won’t attempt to explain, but I believe in the Police Courts they are known as ‘duffers.’”

Lay all five coins on the velvet mat, each of the shells slightly overlapping the solid coin to which it belongs.

“Here we have one, two, three, four, five. I pick up two of them.” (Draw shell over solid in act of picking up.) “I give them a gentle squeeze and they become one only.” (Show as one, and replace on mat behind the mouth of pocket.) “Now I treat two more in the same way.” (Repeat accordingly, replacing these also, as one, on mat.) “We have now only three left. Let me see, which is the original? Ah! here it is, with the owner’s mark upon it.” (Pick it up and show in left hand.) “Now I rub one of these others into it.” (Make the movement of picking up one of the double coins, and of rubbing it into the coin in left hand, but in reality “vanish” it, in the supposed act of picking up, into the pocket of mat.) “And now I pass this other one into it in the same way, and we have only the original penny left. It is like the ten little niggers, isn’t it, only that they never came back. Here is your penny, Sir. Please observe that it still has your own mark upon it, which is proof positive that there has been ‘no deception.’”

N. B. If the performer is a novice, he may simplify the trick by loading the coin mat with one double and one ordinary coin only, or two ordinary coins, limiting the successive productions accordingly.

THE MISSING LINK

At an early period of my magical career, I devised a trick to which I gave the name of Concatenation Extraordinary, and which will be found described in Later Magic, page 94. In effect it consisted of the magical welding of a number of loose iron links into a continuous chain. It was performed by the aid of a Black Art table, a bottomless tumbler, and a silk thread. “Though I say it that shouldn’t,” it was an ingenious trick, and I was very proud of it. Unfortunately, some good natured friend (I rather think it was Mr. David Devant) pointed out to me that about ninety-five per cent of my ingenuity was wasted, inasmuch as the same effect, so far as the spectator was concerned, could be produced by infinitely simpler means, viz.:—by using a glass with double mirror partition, when all the other paraphernalia became unnecessary. You had only to load the hinder compartment with the complete chain, and after a due amount of “talkee-talkee,” drop the loose links into the forward one, turn the glass round, and the deed was done.

The trick, as a trick, was just as good in its new shape as before, but being at that time (comparatively) young and foolish, its extreme simplicity spoilt it for me, and I lost all interest in it. Not long since, however, I was reminded of it by coming across the chain and links which had figured in my performance of the trick, and it struck me that, in a slightly modified form, it may still be worth the attention of the drawing-room conjurer.

The requirements for the trick in this, its latest form, are as follows:

First, the mirror glass; and as to this I may note in passing that the “mirror” is best made of tin-plate, not too highly polished, in place of the looking-glass plate which was, until a quite recent period, generally employed for the purpose.

Secondly, a length of small iron chain, made up of twenty-six links, connected in the centre by a twenty-seventh link of brass.

Thirdly, two shorter lengths of similar chain, consisting of thirteen links each, and a loose brass link, corresponding to the one in the centre of the longer chain. The complete chain is to be placed at the outset in the hinder compartment of the mirror glass, which should be of such a size that the chain nearly fills it.

Lastly will be needed a bottle containing Eau de Cologne, of which a few drops have been poured on the chain in the glass.

The patter may run to something like the following effect.

“You are doubtless aware, ladies and gentlemen, that electricity is now largely employed in the welding of metals. Of course to produce such a result on a large scale, such as welding guns, enormous strength of current is required; amounting in fact to millions of ampÈres, or volts, or ohms, or watts. I blush to confess I don’t know which is which, but it’s of no consequence. If I had ever so many ampÈres, or the rest of it, I shouldn’t know what to do with them. I am only able to manufacture my electricity on a very small scale, but with the aid of a little magic, I get very good results.

“You are also no doubt aware that when certain metals, particularly copper and zinc, are brought into close connection, an electrical current is set up between them. The same thing applies, in a less degree, to iron and brass, as I hope to be able to show you.

“I have here two short lengths of iron chain. Will somebody be kind enough to count the links? You will find, I think, that there are exactly thirteen in each. Please notice this, because, in some mysterious way, it has something to do with the success of my experiment. You know thirteen is an unlucky number, and the chains themselves don’t like to consist of that number of links, and if they can alter it, they try to do so. I am going to give them the opportunity, with a little electrical assistance. Thirteen, as I have said, is an unlucky number, and twice thirteen makes twenty-six, which is not much better, but if you add one more, you get twenty-seven, which is a very lucky number indeed. Everybody knows that three is a lucky number. Three times three are nine, which of course must be luckier still, and three times nine are twenty-seven, which is naturally best of all.

“Now I am going to give these two chains an opportunity to convert themselves into that lucky number, by taking in this extra link, which as you perceive is brass, an opposition metal. Observe, I drop one of the chains into this glass. See that I do so fairly. Then I drop in the single link, and lastly, the other piece of chain. And now, in order to set up an electrical reaction, I add just a few drops from this bottle of Eau de Cologne. As a matter of fact, a little salt and water would have the same effect, but I use Eau de Cologne because it smells nicer. And now I must ask the loan of some lady’s handkerchief, to cover the glass, and concentrate the electric current.”

Holding the handkerchief in right hand, pick up the glass with left hand, and raise it a few inches from the table. In lowering it, cover it with the handkerchief, and at the same time give it the necessary half-turn. Take out your watch, and make believe to time the operation, remarking, “I find it needs a full half-minute, to allow the charm to work. Time! Let us see how we have succeeded.”

Take off the handkerchief, and draw the chain slowly out of the glass. “Yes. All is well. I should say welded, and I trust you will say, ‘Well done.’ The chain is complete, and now consists of twenty-seven links, the lucky number. Perhaps some gentleman will verify the fact.

“I must tell you frankly that I don’t guarantee the correctness of my explanation. I can’t say exactly how much the electricity has to do with it. I only know that if you go to work the right way, which means, do as I do, you get the result, and there you are. This experiment always provokes a lot of discussion. The other evening one gentleman said it was done this way. A lady said it was that way, and a sharp boy (the younger they are the more they know) was quite sure it was done another way altogether. But they were all wrong. It is done just the way I have shown you, and if you do as I do, and say as I say, you will no doubt produce the same result.[7] If you don’t, well, you will be no use as a conjurer, and you had better go into some other business.”

Some less instructed reader may possibly enquire, “But why the Eau de Cologne? What does that do?” Precisely nothing, and therein lies its virtue. As indicated in the section on “patter” (post) it often happens that some little bit of spoof, supererogatory in reality so far as the spectator is concerned, is accepted as covering the real key to the puzzle. This is a case in point. Taking it for granted that the Eau de Cologne would not be used without some reason, the spectator sets to work to discover that reason, and so gets farther from the real solution.

[7] This last bit of patter is a plagiarism from somebody or other, I rather think the late Dr. Lynn.

CULTURE EXTRAORDINARY

The root-idea of this item must be credited to Signor Antonio Molini, the inventor of the very effective stage trick known as Le Souper du Diable. The principle on which that trick is worked is so subtle, and withal so simple, that it is surprising that it has not long since been applied to the production of less bulky objects than the tablecloth, eatables and drinkables which figure in the Satanic supper. The following is an application of the Signor Molini’s idea on a scale better adapted to the drawing room.

Requisites.

(1) Three zinc or zinc-lined tubes, as a, b, c, in Fig. 15, ranging in height from about three inches upwards, and graduated in size so as to fit easily one within the other.

Fig. 15

(2) Three balls, one red and two white, of such diameter as to pass easily through the narrowest tube. Two smaller balls, one red and one white, about half an inch in diameter.

(3) A box of matches.

Each of the two smaller tubes (c and d in diagram) to be loaded with one of the larger white balls, suspended from the upper edge of the tube by a wire hook, shaped as a in Fig. 16, connected with the ball by a loop of fine silk or cotton thread. The red ball is vested, and the two little balls may rest in a shallow tray or other appropriate receptacle on the table, deep enough as to conceal them from the view of the spectators.

Fig. 16

Introductory Patter. “You have no idea, ladies and gentlemen, what a lot of hints I get from different people for the improvement of my entertainment. If I were to adopt them all, I have no doubt it would be very fine indeed. The worst of it is that it would take a year or two to try them, so for the present I am obliged to leave things as they are.

“You will observe that I have here three tubes” (showing No. 1 and passing wand through it to prove it is empty), “quite ordinary tubes, with a hole at each end, and nothing at all between. I don’t suppose you would notice anything to object to about them, but some people are so very particular. A gentleman who said he had an artistic eye (I don’t know which eye it was) said to me, ‘Look here, Professor, that trick of yours would be ever so much better if you had all those tubes the same size. That lot looks as if you had picked them up at a jumble sale.’[8] I explained to him, kindly but firmly, that there was a special reason for having the three tubes of different sizes; namely, that by so doing it was made possible” (suiting the action to the word) “to pass this one (No. 1) over this other (No. 2); and this again over the smallest one, thereby saving much space in packing. He said, ‘Never mind, you take my tip and make ’em all the same size.’ I dare say he was right, but I haven’t had time to do it yet.”

During this little harangue, which appears to be mere “spoof,” you have practically worked the trick. Suiting the action to the word, you have passed the largest tube No. 1 over No. 2 and lifted it off again. In its downward movement the tube passes over the little hook on No. 2; but in lifting it off again its upper edge comes within the outer arm of the hook, and carries this off with the ball attached to it, leaving tube No. 2 empty. The latter, shown empty accordingly, is passed over No. 3 and carries off its load in the same way.

You have thus proved (!) in the most convincing way that all three tubes are empty, though as a matter of fact No. 3 is the only one in that condition, Nos. 1 and 2 each containing a suspended ball.

The patter from this point may vary according to the fancy of the performer. If he has the knack of producing the appropriate combination of fact and fiction, it is preferable that he should do so for himself. As I have elsewhere remarked, borrowed patter rarely comes so “trippingly on the tongue” as that of which the performer can say with, let us hope, undue depreciation of his merits, “a poor thing, but mine own.”

The fable with which I should myself introduce the trick would run somewhat as follows:

“You have all heard, ladies and gentlemen, of intensive culture, gooseberries grown while you wait, and that sort of thing. It is done by enclosing the seed, or the young plant, in a confined space and keeping it warm and comfy. It has always seemed to me that there is a good deal of magic about the process, and I thought I would like to try it myself, but it would be no good my trying to grow vegetables. I shouldn’t have room to grow more than one radish, or one spring onion at a time, which would hardly be worth while. I finally decided to grow a few billiard balls, for use in my entertainment, and I’ll show you how it’s done.

“You must please imagine that these three tubes are three hothouses on the new system.” (Picks up and exhibits one of the little white balls.) “Of course everything has to be raised from seed in the first instance, but it would take too long to show you the whole process from the beginning, so we will start with this little ball, grown from seed last night. In its present condition it is too small to be of any use, but by means of my intensive culture we can soon make it grow larger. I will drop it into No. 1 forcing house.”

Performer shows little ball in right hand and makes believe to transfer it to the left, in reality rolling it, as in the well-known “Cups and Balls” trick, between the roots of the second and third fingers. The left hand, held above tube No. 1, makes the movement of crumbling an imaginary ball into it. “Now we will plant another in the same way.”

You pick up apparently another little white ball, but in reality the same; which has remained in the right hand. Now, however, it will be well to vary the sleight used, so you show the ball between the second finger and thumb of the left hand, and apparently take it back by means of the pincette or tourniquet; then professedly dropping it into the second tube.

“And now, to complete the set, we shall have to grow a red ball. Here is a seedling of that colour.” You pick up the little red ball, and make believe to pass it after the same fashion into the third tube.

“And now to supply the heat. We do not need much, the space being so confined. I find that even the flame of a match is sufficient.”

You strike a match and move the flame round and round within the top of the larger tube till the thread catches fire and releases the ball. Should this be heard to drop, you account for it by remarking “I dare say you noticed a little explosion. That is caused by the sudden radio-activity of the component atoms re-arranging themselves in the expanded form.” You raise the tube and show the ball: then go through the same process with the second tube. Under cover of raising this tube to show the ball, you get the large red ball from the vest into the left hand and palm it.

“Perhaps you would like to watch the progress a little more closely.” You pick up the third tube and place it upright on the palm of the left hand, in so doing introducing the palmed ball from below, and advance with it to the company.

“The red balls are especially sensitive to heat. Even the warmth of the breath is generally enough for these. Anyhow, we will try.” You breathe into the tube, and lifting it show the ball, then offering both tube and ball for inspection.

It will hardly be necessary to point out to the acute reader that the alteration of procedure in the case of the last tube is rendered necessary; first, by the fact that the tube up to that point contains no ball, and secondly in order to avoid the difficulty of striking a match with the right hand only, the left being otherwise occupied.

The trick may appropriately be followed by the exhibition of a few of the usual ball sleights. If it is worked on a “black art” table it may be brought to an effective close by the “dematerialisation,” in succession, of the three balls.

[8] Rummage.

THE BOUNDING BEANS

This is another application of the principle introduced by Signor Molini and utilised in the trick last described.

The requisites for the trick are as follows:

(1) Mirror glass; at the outset, empty.

(2) Two tubes of cardboard, sheet brass, or zinc, as A and B in Fig. 17. The height and width of A are about 3½ and 2½ inches respectively. B is a little taller, but a trifle less in diameter.

(3) A third tube, C, with its lower edge turned inward an eighth of an inch all around. This tube is a little shorter than A, and in diameter a trifle smaller than B, which must pass easily over it. Attached to either side of its upper edge, outside, are soldered two little wire hooks, the points on the outside directed downwards.

(4) A coil of paper ribbon, of such size as to fit closely into the lower end of C, and forming, when so placed, a temporary bottom to it. The inner end of the coil must be drawn up an inch or so, so as to form a little cone in the centre.

Fig. 17

(5) A similar coil unwound into a loose mass of paper ribbon.

(6) About three-quarters of a pint of haricot beans. Of these a sufficient number must be poured into C (around the little cone), to fill it. The remainder are to be brought forward on some sort of tray.[9]

C loaded as last described, is to be placed within B.

The trick may be introduced as follows:

“Most of you, I dare say, have seen the little natural curiosity known as the Jumping Bean. To all appearance these are just like other beans; but if you spread a dozen or so of them on the table and watch them carefully, you presently see one or more of them turn over, or even make a little jump. A young and lively bean will sometimes hop as far as half an inch.

“Scientific gentlemen tell us that their agility is caused by a little insect inside the bean. When he wags his tail, or scratches himself with his hind leg, it causes the bean to turn over, or to make a hop. That seems to me rather a lame explanation because there is no hole in the bean that the insect could possibly have got in at. I believe myself, that they are in truth magic beans, and I have been trying to train some beans of my own to do the same thing on a larger scale, and in such a way that you can all see them do it.

“Here are my beans.” (Show those on tray.) “Examine them as much as you like. The more you examine them, the more you won’t find anything particular about them. You won’t notice any difference between them and any other beans, but as a matter of fact they are a good deal more energetic than beans of the ordinary kind, and when they get to know and love you, they will do all sorts of remarkable things.

“I will pour a few of them into this glass.” (The front compartment of the mirror glass is filled to about two-thirds of its height.) “To prevent their getting out again without your knowing it I will press them down with a handful of these pretty paper shavings.”

This is also done, the quantity of paper being so regulated, in accordance with previous experiment, that when pressed down it shall come half an inch or so below the brim of the glass.

“To make matters still more secure I will ask the loan of a lady’s handkerchief to cover the glass with.”

The handkerchief is taken in the right hand, the left meanwhile raising the glass a little way to meet it. In covering and lowering it again to the table the needful half-turn is made.

“I will not touch the glass again until the experiment is finished. Meanwhile I want to call your attention to these two tubes. You will observe that one of them is slightly larger than the other. A gentleman told me the other evening that I was wrong in saying so. He maintained that the one was smaller than the other. I didn’t argue with him. I never do with that sort of man. It is just a question of the point of view. Anyhow, I had the one made larger, or the other one smaller, whichever way it is, so that the one can go comfortably over the other, like this.”

A, first carelessly moved about so as to show clearly that it is empty, is brought down over B and lifted off again, carrying off within it C and its load; after which B is in turn shown to be empty.

“Now I am going to order the beans to jump out of the glass and into one or other of these empty tubes, at your own choice. Right? or left? Which shall it be?”

Performer asks the question standing behind his table, and by means of the familiar equivoque (“my” or “your” left or right) interprets the answer to mean A.

“And now I have only to pronounce the proper magic spell. The trouble is to remember the right one. They are rather confusing, and if you happen to pronounce the wrong one, or even pronounce the right one the wrong way, the consequences may be serious. But I think I know this one pretty well. ‘Peripatetico-paticocorum.’ I fancy I have got it right. I don’t know quite what it means myself, and nobody seems to be able to tell me. A Japanese gentleman told me he thought it was Spanish, but a Spaniard said he felt sure it was Welsh. Somebody else suggested that I should ‘ask a pleeceman.’ I did ask a policeman, and he said, ‘Go to—’ somewhere I won’t mention, but I don’t think he meant it as a translation. My own idea is that it is a bit of Esperanto. Anyhow, it has the desired effect; for you see the beans have left the glass” (uncovering it and showing it empty), “and they have jumped into this tube, which is what I wanted them to do.”

The beans are poured from the tube into the vacant portion, now to the front, of the mirror glass, with due care that the coil at bottom shall not be seen.

“But there’s something wrong here. I must have made some little mistake in the pronunciation of the magic spell, for the paper seems to have disappeared as well as the beans. There is certainly no room for it in the tube. Here it is, though, or some of it.”

The paper is unwound, and when it comes to an end the wand is passed through A and C (now bottomless) together, again proving (?) that the former which is always shown to the spectators could not possibly have contained the beans in any natural way. A moment or two later the inner tube can easily be got rid of behind the mass of paper ribbon.

[9] The little dishes of paper pulp sold for picnic purposes will be found to answer this and similar purposes excellently and have the further advantage of being exceptionally portable.

LOST AND FOUND

This trick may be worked either upon a black art table or black art mat. We will assume that the latter is used.

The requisites for this trick will in such case be as follows:

1. The mat. This may be a small circular one, a few inches in circumference without pocket.

2. A handkerchief, fourteen or fifteen inches square, of some gaudy pattern, carefully folded and placed in a square Japanese handkerchief box.[10]

3. A circular velvet patch as described ante, in the chapter dealing with novel applications of the Black Art principle.

4. A half-crown placed in a pochette, or otherwise so as to be readily get-at-able.

Presentation. Performer opens the box and takes out the handkerchief, which he carefully unfolds, handling it as if it were something of extraordinary value.

“I have here, ladies, a curio of an exceptionally curious kind. This is said to be the identical handkerchief which Othello gave to Desdemona, and which afterwards caused so much unpleasantness. No doubt you all know your Shakespeare, and will remember that Othello tells his wife, ‘There’s magic in the web of it.’ And there is magic in it still. Not so much as there was, I dare say, but still it retains a good many magical qualities. Among them is a curious talent for recovering lost property. For instance, I once had a dog. His name was Socrates, but he was generally called ‘Socks.’ In fact, he preferred it. He was a valuable dog, because he combined so many different breeds. He was partly pug, and partly greyhound, and partly dachshund, and partly chow, and partly bull-dog and partly terrier, and partly of two or three other breeds that I can’t for the moment remember. One day Socks went out to see a friend, and didn’t come back again. I sat up all night for him with a stick, but he didn’t come home till morning. In fact, he didn’t come home even then. I thought I had lost him for good, and I was quite distressed about it.

“Just when I was beginning to get over the loss I had a further shock. My precious Desdemona handkerchief was missing. But the very next day I heard a barking outside, and there was my dog with the handkerchief tied round his neck and three other dogs with him. The handkerchief had recovered them all.

“You don’t believe that little story. I thought you wouldn’t. People never will believe anything a little bit out of the way. It is just the same with fish stories. I know a man who, when he was a boy, fishing in a pond with a maggot on a bent pin, caught a four-pound salmon. He didn’t claim any credit for doing it. He says himself it was just an accident, and might have happened to anybody. But he never can get anyone to believe him, and it has spoilt his character. He was naturally a truthful man, but being always disbelieved has made him reckless, and now, whenever he tells the story he sticks another half-pound on to the salmon. I believe it is a fifteen pounder now.[11]

“With regard to the handkerchief, however, I can easily prove to you that what I have stated is correct. I can’t prove it quite in the same way, because even if any lady or gentleman present had lost a dog, it would take the handkerchief a day or two to find it, and you would get tired of waiting. So I must show you the virtues of the handkerchief in a simpler way.

“Will some gentleman oblige me with the loan of a half-crown, marked so that he can be sure of knowing it again?”

On receiving the coin the performer returns to his table, holding it on high so that it can be seen that there is no substitution, and lays it on the black art mat.

“Presently I propose to lose this coin, and get the handkerchief to find it, but first you would like, no doubt, to have a look at the handkerchief itself. Notice the richness of the pattern. It is said to be after a design in the Alhambra. I don’t mean the Alhambra you gentlemen go to, but the real Moorish one in Spain.”

Leaving the handkerchief for the time being in the possession of a spectator he returns to the table, meanwhile palming the velvet patch, and the substituted half-crown, and ostensibly picks up the original, in reality rendering it invisible by laying the patch over it, and showing the substitute in its place, after the manner described at p. 19. He then advances to the company with the substitute coin and offers it to one or other of the spectators, remarking, “Take it, please, and pass it to one or other of your neighbours so that I shan’t know where it is.”

Under pretence of offering the coin, he passes it from the one hand to the other, and vanishes it by, say, the tourniquet, so that the person holding out a hand to receive it gets nothing, and says so.

“What do you say, Sir? You have not got it? But surely, I have just handed it to you. You are not joking? Then it must have fallen on the floor. Please look around you a bit.” (Pretends to do so himself.) “Not there? Well, this is extraordinary.” (To the lender of the coin.) “I am very sorry, Sir. Your money is lost in a way I did not anticipate. But after all, when I come to think of it, it’s of no consequence. The handkerchief will find it wherever it is, even if it has to follow it into somebody’s pocket. By the way, where is the handkerchief?” He takes it from the person with whom it was left, and holding it by two of its corners, and showing both hands otherwise empty, lowers it down carefully over the black patch on table.

“And now to work the spell. ‘Bismillah! Bechesm! Salaam Aleikoum!’ You must excuse my speaking Arabic, but that is the only language the handkerchief understands. I see that the gentleman who lent me the half-crown is looking a little bit anxious. Cheer up, Sir, the handkerchief has never failed me yet. But we must give it time. Say, half a minute.” (Looks at watch.) “This is curious. Half a minute gone. One minute, and nothing has happened. The handkerchief has made no move. Something must have gone wrong. But stay! If the handkerchief has not gone to the coin, perhaps the coin has gone to the handkerchief. Let us see!”

He lifts the handkerchief by the centre, picking up the black patch with it, and thereby disclosing the coin, which is handed back on the mat to the owner. Then carefully folding up the handkerchief, performer replaces it in its box, and in so doing regains possession of the velvet patch, to be got rid of at a convenient opportunity.

[10] The handkerchief should be readily recognizable as a cheap and commonplace one.

[11] This story, as also a few other “yarns” with which I have endeavoured to brighten my otherwise serious pages, may be suppressed if it is thought desirable to shorten the patter. I ought perhaps to apologise for introducing such irrelevant fiction, but I am encouraged in misdoing by the example of the lamented Artemus Ward, who said that the best things in his lecture were generally the things that had nothing to do with it.

THE RIDDLE OF THE PYRAMIDS

This, in good hands, will be found a very effective trick. I have the less hesitation in saying so, because the assertion is only to a very limited extent self-praise. The idea of the effect to be produced was my own, as also to a certain extent the method of producing it. I had even got so far as to devise, in anticipation, suitable patter. When, however, I proceeded to put my ideas into practice I found myself pulled up by unexpected obstacles.

The object to be attained, as will be seen by the sequel, was the instantaneous re-adjustment of the sundered parts of a small pyramid, and this I proposed to do by means of the pull of a thread, fine enough to be practically invisible. Now, to make segments of a pyramid not only draw together, but sit squarely one upon another, it is necessary to have forces operating simultaneously in two different directions, and the need for this caused difficulties which I found myself unable to cope with. Indeed, I had practically decided to content myself by producing a somewhat similar effect in a simpler way, as exemplified in the trick which I have called the Miracle of Mumbo Jumbo, which next follows.

As luck would have it, however, I mentioned my difficulties to my good friend, Mr. Holt Schooling, a gentleman whom I have more than once had occasion to refer to in my writings in connection with some neat device. Mr. Schooling declared that the original idea was too good to be abandoned, and offered to try his hand at bringing it to a successful issue. I must frankly confess that I had no great hope of his success; but Mr. Schooling is a man of many talents. Apart from eminence in his own profession (that of actuary and statistician) he is not only an expert amateur conjurer, but an exceptionally skilful mechanic, and he possesses withal an unlimited capacity for taking pains. He used these qualities to such good purpose that I am enabled to include this striking effect among the contents of the present volume.

Fig. 18

The principal item of apparatus is naturally the pyramid itself, which is of blackened wood as illustrated in Fig. 18. For the sake of lightness it is of necessity a small affair, being four inches in height, about six across the base, and two across the top. It is divided into five horizontal slabs or segments, as indicated by the dotted lines. Midway on each side of each slab, at about half an inch distance from the upper edge, a minute hole is bored, parallel to the outer slope of the segment; exactness in this particular being an essential condition of success. Of the four holes in each slab, two only are actually used in the trick, the other two being added partly for the sake of uniformity, and partly to disguise the significance of the other pair. Each slab, save those at the top and bottom, is also perforated perpendicularly by three or four holes of considerable diameter, the object of these being merely to lessen the weight of the slab.

In preparing the pyramid for use in the trick, a piece of plaited silk fishing-line, stained black, and in length five to six feet, is passed by the aid of a needle upwards through the small hole in one side of the largest slab; then in the same way through the corresponding hole in the next, and so on till it comes out through the uppermost. Thence it is again passed downward through the next adjoining hole in each slab till it comes out at the bottom, when the ends are drawn level and tied in a knot.

The use of plaited silk fishing line for such purposes is one of Mr. Schooling’s specialties, and is a “tip” to make a note of. Line of this kind is in proportion to its thickness much stronger than ordinary silk thread, and, not being liable to untwist, its surface remains permanently hard and smooth, a great desideratum where it is important to minimise friction. Further, it does not “kink” as a twisted thread is liable to do.

Two other items of apparatus are used, viz.:

(1) An electric torch in the shape of a wand, the light appearing at the end.

Fig. 19

(2) A little knife or cutter specially designed by Mr. Schooling for use in this trick. This consists of a half-inch length of a safety-razor blade, set in a handle consisting of a piece of tin one inch square, folded in half, and then bent back to a right angle on each side, the blade projecting along the line of juncture as shown in Fig. 19. In use the cutter is held by what may be called its backbone between the first joints of the first and second fingers of the extended hand, as shown in Fig. 20. This cutter must be placed ready to hand upon the table. It is so minute that there is no fear of its attracting attention.[12]

Fig. 20

In presenting the trick the pyramid, with its sections duly threaded and placed one upon another, is brought in on a wooden board similar to an ordinary drawing-board, measuring twenty-four inches by sixteen, and like the pyramid itself, stained black. It is essential to the satisfactory working of the trick that the “base” section of the pyramid shall not shift when the thread is pulled. This is ensured by having two L shaped “stops” of thin wood glued or screwed to the board near the left hand corner nearest to the performer when in use.

The trick may be introduced as follows:

“I don’t know whether any of you ladies and gentlemen are well up in Egyptology. I can’t say I am, myself. I know a camel when I see one, but that is about as far as I have got. There is, however, one point about it which has always interested me very much. It is a point which has puzzled not only the Egyptologists, but all the other ologists; namely, how the pyramids were built. They consist, as no doubt you know, of enormous masses of stone; so large that the cleverest engineers of our day cannot tell us how they were placed one upon another. If you can imagine the lifting of the Royal Exchange in one lump and dumping it down on the top of the Bank of England, you will have some idea of the sort of job the Egyptian builders had to tackle.[13] Anyhow, the work was done, and as it is clear that it could not have been done by any known mechanical means, we are compelled to seek some other solution of the problem.

“I don’t know whether any of you read novels. If you do, you must often have noticed the curious way in which fiction constantly anticipates fact. The novelist describes some utterly impossible thing, and a few years later some other fellow goes and does it. Jules Verne described a voyage under the sea long before the submarine was invented, and Mr. Wells wrote ‘The War in the Air’ while the aeroplane and the Zeppelin were still in their infancy. But there is one conception of the novelist which has not till now been made an accomplished fact. That is the force called ‘Vril,’ described by Lord Lytton in his novel, ‘The Coming Race.’ He describes Vril as a sort of hyper-electricity capable in the hands of those who know how to gather and use it, of producing all sorts of wonders, even to removing mountains. Imprisoned in a wand and directed by a strong will, it will shrivel up an enemy or a wild beast as by a flash of lighting.

“I have always had an idea that this must have been the force used by the Egyptians to build the pyramids. I have managed to collect a small quantity of an unknown force which answers very closely to Lord Lytton’s description of Vril, and I have charged this wand with it. As regards killing things, I have only tested it so far on a black beetle. The experiment was a success. He was blown to atoms, all but one hind leg. I should like to try it on a tiger; if I could get one cheap. Does any gentleman present know of a secondhand tiger in a good strong cage going cheap? No? I was afraid you wouldn’t. I am hoping however for a chance of trying it some night on a burglar. If a gentleman of the Bill Sykes persuasion should steal into my chamber at dead of night with felonious designs upon my Waterbury and my collarstud, he will be as a dead man. I shall just point this wand at him and say ‘Die,’ and he will be merely a little heap of ashes to be swept up by the housemaid in the morning.

“I can however give you an example of the power of my Vril as a motive force. I shall do so by using it to build or rather rebuild this little pyramid in your presence.

“This is a correct copy of the real thing. It takes to pieces, as you see. One, two, three, four, five!”

As he pronounces the last few words, the performer, standing behind his table, picks up the pyramid, and holding it aloft in his right hand draws away the base from the other sections, sliding it along the thread, and “bedding” it between the “stops” at the left hand bottom corner of the board. He then slides the other portions, one by one, along the thread in the same way, laying them in a row diagonally across the board. This will have taken up a considerable portion of the thread, but there will still be a loop some inches in length hanging down near the left hand corner of the table.

“Now please watch carefully. This wand, you will remember, has been carefully charged with my imitation Vril.”

While speaking these last words the performer gets one finger of his left hand within the loop. He now turns on the light at the end of the wand, and with it makes a quick sweep from right to left over the severed parts of the pyramid, making at the same time a half-turn away from the table, and quickly drawing away the thread. If this is done neatly the severed parts of the pyramid run together one upon the other in a single instant.

It is probable that the parts may not sit exactly one upon another. Whether this is so or not, the performer makes believe to notice that it is so, as it gives him a needful opportunity. He remarks:

“The power was hardly strong enough, I see. There is a block here that needs a little straightening up.” Having meanwhile picked up the little cutter between the fingers he bends over the table and squares up the pyramid as may (or may not) be necessary, and under cover of so doing draws the blade across the thread where it crosses the top, thereby severing it, and then moving back a little to note the effect of his correction draws it away altogether. Shifting the restored pyramid to the centre of the board he brings all forward for examination. The severed thread is allowed to drop on the floor, to be picked up after the performance is over.

[12] As a further precaution it should be painted flesh-color.

[13] Before an American audience the names of any two well-known buildings in New York may be substituted.

THE MIRACLE OF MUMBO JUMBO

The items needed for the presentation of this trick are as follows:

(1) A miniature pagoda of quaint design. It consists of five circular sections, resting one upon another as illustrated in Fig. 21. The trick in effect consists of the automatic re-adjustment of these sections after being taken apart and shown lying apparently haphazard on a Japanese tray. For drawing-room use the pagoda is about six inches high and the same diameter across the base. For stage purposes it may be made a trifle larger.

Fig. 21

(2) The tray. This, for use with a pagoda of the size above mentioned, should be not less than twenty inches long by ten or twelve wide, and fairly heavy, as being less liable to shift in use. It must have an upright rim; through one corner of which a minute hole is bored, countersunk and polished on each side of the opening in order to diminish friction on a thread passing through it.

(3) An electric torch in the shape of a bottle; the light showing itself at the mouth.

(4) A black dress-hook, sewn point upwards to the lower edge of the performer’s vest on the right or left side, as may best suit his own position in working the trick, just where back and front meet.

Fig. 22

It will be found on examination of the pagoda that each of the parts of which it consists has a hole bored vertically through its centre. The topmost portion has in addition a pinhole passing horizontally across it, about halfway down. Through this a black pin, bent at the head, passes as shown in Fig. 22. In preparation for the trick a piece about three feet long of black plaited silk line, with a small wire ring at one end, is passed by the aid of a needle through the hole in the tray from the outer side; thence upward through the various sections of the pagoda, beginning with the undermost, till it finally comes up through the head. After the needle has been drawn off, the end of the thread is formed into a loop, which is passed over the cross-pin before mentioned. The thread is then drawn taut from below, the several segments of the pagoda resting fairly one upon another in the centre of the tray. The intermediate portion of the thread is drawn up till the little ring at the outer end comes close to the tray, and is laid upon it in zigzag fashion so as prevent the possibility of its fouling at a critical moment.

The introductory patter may run as follows:

“In the course of my travels in Central Africa—you didn’t know that I had been in Central Africa? Strange, how little the world knows of its greatest men! But no matter! When I was in Africa I chanced to come upon the place where the Golliwoggs live.

“It’s a nice place—for those who like that sort of place, but most people would find it a little too warm. It is so warm there that the hens lay their eggs hard-boiled, and you dig up potatoes ready baked. It is too warm for anything but simple life,—the very simple life, particularly as regards clothing. The ordinary walking dress for a gentleman Golliwogg is a pair of braces. The king wears two pairs; except on state occasions, when he wears one of those short shirts instead. You know the kind I mean—all front. I think they call them ‘dickeys.’

“The ladies are more dressy. They get the fashions from back numbers of the Daily Mail; kimonos and camisoles and corsets all in the latest style. They are made with green paint and put on with a shaving brush. There is only one thing that bothers the court dressmakers. They can’t make a crinoline.”

[If desired to shorten the patter the fashion details may be omitted.]

“I mention these little matters in order to give you an idea of the place, in case any of you might like to take a week-end trip there. If you are old and tough, you might risk it. If you are young and tender, you had better not.

“The special point of interest is a curious pagoda in the centre of the village. It is seventy-five feet high and is supposed to be the habitation of Mumbo Jumbo; a sort of deputy devil, much respected in those parts. This little model is an exact copy of it. You can’t call it pretty, but there is a very remarkable thing about it. When the king dies (which happens by accident about once a fortnight), the pagoda is pulled down, and if the new king is acceptable to Mumbo Jumbo (which depends upon the amount of his tip to the chief witch doctor) old Mum rebuilds it himself by magic. You don’t see him do it. The pagoda just sits up and paws the air, so to speak. If Mumbo does not approve, the proposed king gets a knock on the head with a cocoa-nut, and some more liberal Golliwogg is crowned instead.

“I naturally wanted to know how the miracle was worked; and I managed to buy the secret from one of the witch doctors. He sold it to me for a pair of sixpenny-half penny sock suspenders. He didn’t wear socks, but that didn’t matter. He put the suspenders on at once and strutted about, as proud as a dog with three tails.

“Now, I am going to tell you the secret. Scientists tell us that the sun throws out three sorts of rays; light-rays, heat-rays, and force-rays. The artful witch doctors have found out a way of bottling off the force rays. They are mild at first, but when they get old in the bottle, so to speak, they become so strong that if you know how to do it you can lift the heaviest weights with them.

“I managed to get hold of a small bottle of the rays” (show bottle) “and I will show you, on a very small scale, how the thing is done.

“First, we will take the pagoda to pieces.”

Standing behind the table, the performer moves the pagoda to the corner of the tray nearest his own left hand; so as to leave space for the different portions when separated. He then picks up all the parts save the base, holding them carefully together, and drawing away with them a length of the thread about equal to the diagonal of the tray. Passing the undermost section downwards along the thread, he lays it down beside the base, afterwards treating the other portions in the same way, the several portions finally resting on the tray somewhat as shown in Fig. 23.

Fig. 23

If the length of the thread has been properly gauged (this is a matter to be determined by experiment beforehand), there should be some twelve or fourteen inches of “slack.” Slipping the ring at the end over the little hook before mentioned, the performer moves a little away from the table, so as to draw this portion of the thread all but taut, between his own body and the tray.

“And now to utilise our force rays.” Holding up the bottle-shaped torch in his right hand, he turns its light onto the tray, at the same time edging away farther from the table and moving about behind it so as to cause a gradual pull upon the thread; the effect being that the severed parts of the pagoda mount gradually one upon another in due order. It is probable that they will not rest exactly one upon the other. In any case the performer affects to notice that they do not. Making a remark to that effect he steps close to the table to straighten them up, and under cover of so doing draws with the finger nail the pin in the uppermost portion, thereby releasing the thread. Stepping back again, as though the better to judge whether the pagoda is now “plumb,” he thereby draws away the line, and detaching the ring from the hook, lets it fall to the ground. This done, he returns to the table, and shifting the restored pagoda to the centre of the tray, brings all forward, inviting anyone who cares to do so, to satisfy himself that there has been “no deception.”

THE STORY OF THE ALKAHEST

The requirements for this trick are as follows:

(1) Two wands, exactly alike in appearance. One of them to be that just used in some previous trick or tricks (which we will call No. 2), and the other, prepared as to be presently explained, to be secretly substituted for it immediately before the presentation of the present trick. This can be easily done by the aid of a couple of pairs of cup-hooks fixed behind the table or a chair after the manner described in “Later Magic,” p. 126; or the wands may be exchanged during journey to the table at an early stage of the trick; by means of a pocket of suitable shape within the left breast of the coat. This is a matter as to which the performer will please himself, but the exhibition in the first instance of an obviously unprepared wand is essential to the artistic finish of the trick.[14]

(2) Two pieces of ribbon, three-quarters to one inch wide, alike in colour. Of these, one piece is to be wound round the end of wand No. 2 at about three inches from the end, and secured by a rubber ring, of the solid kind used for holding together the ribs of an umbrella. This wand, after being “switched” for the unprepared one, must be so placed upon the table that the end on which the ribbon is wound shall be masked from view by the second piece of ribbon, lying in a loose heap in front of it.

(3) A stoppered bottle of clear glass, preferably of some ornamental or quaint design. This bears a label, of discoloured and time-worn appearance, with the letter H R written on it in crabbed but distinct characters, and is about half-filled with Eau de Cologne or lavender water, to which a few grains of cochineal have been added, giving it a rich ruby colour. So far as the working of the trick is concerned plain water might be used, but a coloured and scented liquid is preferable for the sake of effect.

(4) A spare rubber ring, of the kind above described, placed in left-hand vest-pocket.

The trick may be introduced as follows:

“For the next surprise I have to show you we are indebted to the ancient alchemists. People regard them as back numbers nowadays, because they didn’t know anything about aeroplanes, or appendicitis, or income tax and such-like up-to-date luxuries; but they had a good many useful little secrets of their own. One of them was the recipe for what was called the Alkahest, a liquid which immediately dissolved anything it touched; from a gold watch to a set of fire-irons. The secret of making it has long been lost, and all that still exists of the liquid itself I have here in this bottle.”

The bottle is here brought forward and offered for inspection.

“Pretty colour, isn’t it? And it has a very delightful perfume.” (Takes out stopper.) “You are welcome to smell it but I don’t advise you to taste it. If you did you would probably never taste anything again. I want you to notice, by the way, those two letters H R on the label. There is a dead secret attached to those letters. They mean something, of course; but nobody knows what it is.”

The bottle is replaced on the table.

“This bottle came into my hands by inheritance. An ancestor of mine, in the reign of James the First, was an alchemist in a small way. He is reputed to have made a handsome income by selling ladies something to put in their husbands’ tea. History doesn’t say what. Let us hope it was only sugar. Well, this old gentleman managed to get hold of the recipe for making the Alkahest. Whether he found it out himself, or whether he cribbed it from the cookery-book of some other alchemist, I can’t say. Anyhow, he got it; and he made up some of the stuff and put it in that bottle.

“When he was just going to be burnt as a wizard, which was the regular thing with scientific men in those days, he handed the bottle to his eldest son, my great-great-grandfather seventeen times removed, saying, ‘Take it, my son, and may it do you more good than it has done me.’

“My great-great-grandfather took the bottle; but he had no idea what it contained. He was just going to ask his father what the letters on it meant, but just at that moment the old gentleman flared up, and it was too late. For the rest of his life my great-great-grandfather puzzled his head as to what those two letters H R stood for, but all he could think of was ‘horse-radish,’ and he knew it couldn’t be that.

“Since that the bottle has been handed down in our family for sixteen generations, till at last it came to the hands of my Uncle James, and he puzzled over those letters like the rest. Uncle James was a bit of a ‘nut,’ and prided himself on his fine head of hair, but in course of time he found he was getting a bit thin on the top, and it worried him. One day, thinking over the mysterious letters, an idea struck him. ‘H R!’ he exclaimed, ‘H R! why “Hair Restorer” of course, not a doubt of it! I’ll try it this very night.’ He did. He rubbed it in, and went to sleep quite happy, but when he tried to brush his hair in the morning there wasn’t any left to brush. The Alkahest had taken it all off, and left him as bald as a baby.

“He went to bed again, and ordered a wig, but before it could be sent home he caught such a cold in his head that he died. Just-sneezed-himself-away.”

(The last words to be spoken slowly and sadly.)

“I notice that some of you ladies are weeping. It is an affecting story, no doubt, and I used to shed a tear over it myself. But after all, you didn’t know my Uncle James. Neither did I, for the matter of that, and if we had known him we might not have liked him. So we won’t stop to grieve about him.[15]

“One of the most striking experiments with the Alkahest is the dissolving of a paving stone, particularly if you lay a bunch of violets on it and dissolve them both together, when you get a scuttleful of best Violet Powder. Unfortunately I haven’t a paving stone handy, and I don’t suppose any gentleman present is likely to have one about him. No? I feared not! Another pretty experiment is the dissolving of a diamond ring, but I have no diamond rings myself, and I find that if I borrow other people’s and don’t return them I get myself disliked. So I must try to show the power of the Alkahest in a less expensive way.”

Returning to his table, the performer with his right hand picks up the prepared wand (holding it so as to conceal the ribbon coiled upon it), and with the left hand the mass of loose ribbon.

“I have here a piece of ribbon: just ordinary ribbon. Will some lady oblige me by tying a knot in it, about three inches from the end. Thank you! Now will some other lady tie another knot about three inches from the first one.”

This is repeated till five or six knots have been tied, taking up about half the ribbon.

“I am not sure how many knots have been tied. Please count them for me as I roll the ribbon round my wand.”

So saying, he winds the ribbon, beginning with the knotted end, on to the free portion of the wand, counting the knots as he does so, and continuing the winding till the whole has been taken up. In so doing he takes care to cover up the knots, and to make the appearance of the rolled ribbon correspond as nearly as possible with the hidden coil upon the other end, finally securing it with the rubber ring from his pocket.

We will suppose that five knots are found to have been tied. The performer returns to the table to fetch the bottle; and during the transit passes the wand to the opposite hand, in so doing drawing off the knotted ribbon (to be dropped a moment later into the profonde), and exposes the opposite end. He removes stopper from bottle, leaving it on the table.

“Now comes the most critical part of the operation. I am going by means of the Alkahest to dissolve these knots. How many did we say there were? Five? Then I must use five drops and no more. If I were to overdo it in the smallest degree the consequences would be serious. I should destroy the ribbon altogether, and in these hard times ribbon is ribbon, even if it is only six-three a yard.”

He brings forward the bottle, and with great pretence of accuracy lets fall on the ribbon the suggested number of drops. Then slipping off the rubber ring he offers the end of the ribbon to some member of the company to unwind, when the knots are naturally found to have disappeared.

“The Alkahest retains its virtue, you see, even after so many years. Every knot is completely dissolved. I will conclude by asking you an impromptu riddle. Just one of those bright thoughts that strike me sometimes when I least expect it—

“When is a knot not a knot?”

“When it’s not there.”

[14] I am indebted to a clever amateur, Mr. Gordon Powell, for the knowledge of a very simple but effective method of “changing” a wand. The prepared article lies just within the forward rim of an oblong Japanese tray, and at a convenient moment the unprepared wand just used is laid behind and parallel with it. A little later this is professedly picked up again, but as a matter of fact is pushed forward by the tips of the fingers, and takes the place of the prepared wand, which is picked up in its stead.

A pack of cards may be “changed” for another after a similar fashion, the first finger and thumb picking up the faked pack, while the unprepared pack is pushed forward by the second and third fingers into the place it occupied.

[15] If it is desired to shorten the patter the “Uncle James” episode may be omitted without serious detriment to the trick.

THE ORACLE OF MEMPHIS

This is of the nature of a magical toy rather than a conjuring trick proper, but its exhibition may form a pleasant interlude in the course of a social entertainment. I invented it at an early stage of my magical career, and exhibited it on various occasions for the amusement of friends, but made no further use of it. The apparatus has been put aside, and has been out of sight, out of mind, for many years past. Coming across it accidentally some short time ago, I was agreeably surprised to find that it would still answer questions as promptly, and doubtless as truthfully, as of yore.

Fig. 24

The general appearance of the apparatus, which is eight inches high by seven in outside diameter, is as depicted in Fig. 24. It consists of a circular mahogany stand or base, resting on three small feet, and surmounted by a glass dome b. This last is in fact a bell-glass, as used by gardeners, and has at top the usual knob, whereby to lift it. To this is attached a short loop of narrow ribbon. The glass dome does not rest directly on the stand, its lower edge being encased in a mahogany mount. From the centre of the stand rises a vertical pin, a quarter of an inch in height, serving as pivot for a metal pointer (Fig. 25), which, by means of a little cup, or socket, at its centre, can be lifted on and off, and revolves freely upon it, after the manner of a compass. A further item of the apparatus is a reversible cardboard dial, whose two sides, front and back, are depicted in Figs. 26 and 27. It will be seen that the circumference of this dial is divided on the one side (Fig. 26) into four equal sections, each bearing a pip of one of the four suits. The other side (Fig. 27) is divided into eight sections, marked with the numerals, from seven to ten inclusive, and the letters A, K, Q, and J, answering to Ace, King, Queen and Jack.

Fig. 26 Fig. 25 Fig. 27

With the Oracle is used a set of eight questions, and a piquet pack of cards, on the backs of which are written or printed thirty-two answers appropriate to such questions, one of each suit to each question. The person consulting the Oracle having selected the question he or she desires to have answered, the dial is laid on the stand with the “suit” or Fig. 26 side uppermost, and the pointer is placed in position on its pivot. The querist is invited to breathe into the glass, which is then lowered on to the stand. The pointer begins to move, and after a moment or two of indecision, comes to rest opposite one or other of the four suit-pips; we will suppose, for the sake of illustration, the diamond. The glass is then lifted off, the dial reversed, the pointer replaced, and the glass once more lowered on to the stand. Again the pointer moves, and stops this time, we will say, at the number “seven.” The seven of diamonds is sought for in the pack, and is found to bear a more or less appropriate answer to the question asked.

The movements of the pointer are governed by the fact that, imbedded in the mahogany mount surrounding the base of the bell glass, is a piece of thick steel wire, strongly magnetised, and extending half way round the circle. The pointer, though so coloured as to have the appearance of brass, is in reality a magnetic steel needle, and therefore when resting on the pivot and covered by the glass, will automatically move round till it comes to rest between the two magnetic poles formed to the opposite ends of the hidden wire. The operator can therefore, by placing the glass cover accordingly, cause the indicator to stop at any part of the dial that he pleases.

It remains to be explained what guides him in the manipulation of the glass, so as to cause the needle to stop at the point he desires. It will be remembered that, attached to the knob at the top of the glass, is a loop of ribbon, serving to suspend the glass in use from the forefinger, as shown in Fig. 28. But the loop has in truth a much more important function than this. Before the loop is formed, the ribbon is tied tightly round the neck of the knob, previously waxed to prevent its slipping round, and the knot is so placed that it shall exactly correspond with that pole of the magnet to which the point of the needle is intended to be in use attracted. This done, a loop is formed with the two ends of the ribbon, and so arranged in point of length that when the glass is suspended from the forefinger, as in the diagram, the thumb and second finger of the operator shall be just right for moving it round in either direction, the little knot guiding him by feel to bring it to the desired point.

Fig. 28

The exhibitor is not limited to any particular set of questions and answers. At the cost of a fresh pack of cards and a little ingenuity, he can please himself in this particular. The selection of suitable questions and answers is however a somewhat delicate matter. The answers must on the one hand be smart enough to afford amusement to the company generally; and on the other hand must not be so pungent as to be likely to cause offence to a person putting the question.

The questions and answers I devised for my own use ran somewhat as follows:

1. What does my husband (or wife, as the case may be) most think about?
	ANSWERS
Seven of Diamonds.	Yourself.
” Hearts.	Money.
” Spades.	Dinnertime.
” Clubs.	Golf.
2. Shall I live to grow old?
Eight of Diamonds.	Yes, if you don’t worry about it.
” Hearts.	A well-spent youth will be followed by a happy old age.
” Spades.	As old as you care to be.
” Clubs.	Yes, old, and fat.
3. What is my chief fault?
Nine of Diamonds.	You haven’t any.
” Hearts.	Excessive modesty.
” Spades.	Flirting.
” Clubs.	Swank.
4. Shall I have what I am wishing for?
Ten of Diamonds.	Yes, if you deserve it.
” Hearts.	If you go the right way to get it.
” Spades.	Not likely.
” Clubs.	It is like your cheek to wish for it.
5. What am I thinking about at this moment?
Jack of Diamonds.	A new hat.
” Hearts.	Servants.
” Spades.	You wouldn’t like me to tell.
” Clubs.	That it is a long time between drinks.
6. What shall I do to get health?
Queen of Diamonds.	Don’t think about it.
” Hearts.	Keep smiling.
” Spades.	Take Podger’s Purple Pills.
” Clubs.	Eat less.
7. How old am I?
King of Diamonds.	Just right, don’t get any older.
” Hearts.	Whatever you are, you don’t look it.
” Spades.	You never tell, so I won’t.
” Clubs.	Old enough to know better.
8. What shall I be this time next year?
Ace of Diamonds.	A year older.
” Hearts.	A trifle stouter.
” Spades.	A year wiser.
” Clubs.	Bald as a baby.

It will be found on comparing them that the answers are arranged on a regular system, those on the red cards being of a more or less complimentary nature, or otherwise favourable; the black suits less so, particularly the clubs, which are rather the reverse, and are intended to be used as replies to gentlemen only. Bearing this arrangement in mind, it is a comparatively easy matter to suit the answer to the querist.

The questions must be memorised in proper order, and it is desirable to do the same with the answers also, though there should be no difficulty, remembering the principle of arrangement, in giving a fairly appropriate answer, even though the memory be for the moment at fault as to its exact terms. To avoid the necessity of giving the same answer more than once, it is well to make a rule that the same question shall not be asked more than three times.

The Oracle may be introduced as follows:

“Allow me to introduce to your notice a curio of an exceptionally interesting kind. This elegant little affair is said to have been the private Oracle of Rameses the Second, a gentleman who flourished in Egypt about four thousand years ago. I can’t be sure to a year or two, because it was before my time, but I believe that is about right. People sometimes express surprise that, being so ancient, the Oracle should be in such good condition, but that is accounted for by its having been preserved in the same case as Rammy’s mummy. I don’t mean his mamma, but the gentleman himself, in the cold storage of the period. The story may or may not be true. I can’t take any responsibility for it. Others declare that the Oracle was the favourite plaything of Helen of Troy. Historians do tell such tarradiddles that one doesn’t know what to believe.

“The powers of the Oracle are limited, for it will only answer eight questions, and in its own way, but its answers are quite trustworthy—well, perhaps not quite. Let us say as trustworthy as those of Bond Street fortune-tellers at a guinea a guess. Who will be the first to test its veracity?

“I should mention, by the way, that, as each answer exhausts a certain amount of power, the same question must not be asked more than three times. You would like to consult the Oracle, Madam? Then please select one of the questions on this card, and read it out for the information of the Company.

“You wish to know” (repeating question). “Good. The answer to your question will be found on one or other of the cards in this pack, and the Oracle will tell us which one to look for. First, however, I must ask you to breathe into this glass. That supplies the missing link, so to speak, and makes it a sort of personal affair between you and the Oracle.” (This is done.)

“Thank you. Now I shall place the glass on its stand, and this little pointer” (holding it up and placing it on its pivot) “will reveal the correct answer, first indicating the suit among which the answer is to be found. You may notice that it wobbles a bit at first. That is because it is thinking over the question. Now it has come to rest, and it says the answer will be found in the”—(name suit.) “And now to find out which is the right card of that suit. I take off the glass and turn the dial over. Please concentrate your mind on your question. I put the glass and the pointer on again. Again the pointer thinks it over, and finally decides as you see, for the—” (naming number of card.) “Now all we have to do is to look out that card” (does so) “and here we have the answer to your question.”

Before inviting a fresh querist to breathe into the glass, it is well to wipe it out carefully with a silk pocket handkerchief, professedly to dispel the personal magnetism of the last enquirer, any remains of which, left within the glass, might imperil the correctness of the anticipated answer.

THE MYSTERY OF MAHOMET[16]

The reader is probably familiar with the trick known as “The Silver Tube and Ball.” If not, it may be stated that the “tube” is of metal, nickelled, and about eight inches long by one and a half in diameter. With it is used an ebony ball, which is made to pass into and out of the tube in a very surprising way.

The secret lies partly in the fact that half way down, the internal diameter of the tube is very slightly narrowed, forming a sort of “choke,” so that a ball dropped into it at the upper end does not fall right through, as one would naturally expect, but stops at that point, wedging itself lightly, so that the tube can be reversed without any fear of the ball falling out, though it can be instantly driven out by bringing down the tube smartly on the table, or by very slight pressure behind it.

The other part of the secret lies in the fact that two balls are in reality used, the existence of the second being of course unknown to the spectator. The tube being loaded as above mentioned, i.e. having the one ball wedged in it just below the choke, if the duplicate is dropped in from above it will apparently fall through, though as a matter of fact this ball comes to a standstill in the tube above the choke, while the other is driven out at the bottom. The secret use of this second ball enables the performer to produce sundry surprising results in the way of appearances and disappearances.

The possibilities of the trick in this form are however speedily exhausted, and it has a serious drawback in the fact that it is necessary to invert the tube afresh before each production, as it is obvious that a ball contained in it must be brought below the choke before it can be produced. I had at one time rather a fancy for the trick, but it seemed to me that it was capable of a good deal of improvement, and after some cogitation I succeeded in producing a new trick on somewhat similar lines; but free from the defect mentioned above and capable withal of producing a far wider variety of effects.

Fig. 29

I use two tubes of stiff cardboard, each about four inches long by one and a half in diameter. One of these is just a plain tube with no speciality about it. The other has a piece of fine wire crossing it midway from side to side, and taking the form of a half hoop, as shown in Fig. 29, the ends serving as pivots on which it moves freely. On the outside, one of its ends is turned down vertically, forming a tiny switch or handle. The normal tendency of the halfhoop is to hang downward across the tube (thereby closing it to the passage of a ball) but a touch of the finger, moving the little switch to right or left, raises the loop to a horizontal position against one or other of the sides of the tube, when it no longer offers any obstacle to the passing of the ball. The wire used is so thin that with the halfhoop lying against its side a spectator may safely be allowed to look through the tube even at a very short distance, without fear of his perceiving the presence of the wire.

The requirements for the trick, all told, are as follows:

• (1) The wand.
• (2) The plain tube.
• (3) The trick tube.
• (4) Two white balls.
• (5) A red ball.
• (6) A lighted candle.
• (7) A small red silk handkerchief.

One of the white balls must be vested or otherwise so placed as to be ready for production from the wand. The second white ball and the red ball are stowed in the pochettes, one on each side. The faked tube may be vested and exchanged for the plain one during the journey back to the table after the dummy has been tendered for inspection; the latter being dropped into the profonde. These however are matters which the expert will arrange after his own fashion. If the performer, not being an expert, doubts his ability to “change” the tubes neatly during the transit, he may suppress the plain tube altogether and commence at once with the exhibition of the faked tube from the platform, but the omission makes the trick less convincing.

We will suppose that the performer goes for the maximum effect and advances offering the dummy tube for inspection. The patter I suggest for the trick in this form runs as follows:

“I have here, ladies and gentlemen, a hollow tube. It is not uncommon for tubes to be hollow, but this one is, if anything, even hollower than usual. I should like some lady or gentleman to examine it carefully and testify that it is just a plain ordinary tube with absolutely no deception of any sort about it. If it was not so, you may be sure I should hardly venture to let you examine it. You can see through it, hear through it, or blow through it. You are satisfied? Then I will show you a curious little experiment with it.”

During the return to the table the dummy is exchanged for the trick tube.

“I call the experiment I am about to show you ‘The Mystery of Mahomet.’ I gave it that name because it was Mahomet who suggested the idea to me. I don’t mean personally. I didn’t know him. In point of fact he did not give me the idea till after he had been dead for some years. This sounds peculiar, but I will explain.

“When Mahomet died he wasn’t buried like other people. His coffin was placed in a mosque, where it hangs in the air like a captive balloon, about twenty feet up, resting on nothing at all. I am not certain as to the exact height from the ground, but that is what the Moslems say, and they would hardly tell a story about a little thing like that. It has always been a mystery what keeps the prophet up aloft. Some say it is done by mesmerism, some say by magnetism, and one old gentleman declared it was done by mormonism. No doubt, when you come to think of it Mahomet was a bit of a Mormon. But they are all wide of the mark. As a matter of fact the coffin rests on a slab of compressed air. It’s quite simple, when you know it. I haven’t a coffin handy, but by means of this little tube I can show you the effect of the same principle on a smaller scale.

Fig. 30

“As some of you have not had the opportunity of personally examining the tube I should like to prove to you in the first place that it is really what it appears to be, a simple cardboard cylinder, open from end to end, and as free from deception as I am myself.

“Proof 1.” (Wand dropped through tube on to table.)

“Proof 2.” (Tube held in front of candle showing flame through it.“)

“Proof 3.” (Tube dropped over candle as in Fig. 30, or spun on wand, held horizontally as in Fig. 31; the halfhoop in each case being made to lie against the side of the tube.)

“I have here a little ball, of such a size that it passes easily through the tube.”[17] The ball is allowed to fall through, from the one hand to the other.

“Now I will place the tube upright on the table and drop the ball in once more. Where is it now? On the table, you say. Quite right: here it is.” (Lift tube, closing it, and placing it on end beside ball.) “But now I take a few handfuls of air and press them well down into the tube” (makes believe to do so), “and I drop the ball in again. This time you see it does not fall through. As a matter of fact it has stopped halfway, resting on the compressed air in the tube.” (Lift tube, showing that the ball has not passed through. After replacing the tube switch the wire loop to the horizontal position, allowing the ball to drop inside the tube.) “I think there can be no doubt that this is the way Mr. Home, the medium, managed to float about with his head in the air and his feet on the mantelpiece. All that was needed was a few pints of compressed air in his tail-pockets. It’s quite simple, when you know how it’s done.

“Of course, as the tube is open at the top, the effect doesn’t last very long. The compressed air gradually expands again and becomes too thin to support the ball any longer. I dare say by this time it has done so.” (Lift tube, exposing ball, and re-closing tube). “Yes, here it is.”

“I can keep the air from escaping to a certain extent, because I happen to have a very strong won’t. A strong will is a good thing to have, but sometimes a strong won’t is even more useful. Once again I will fill the tube with compressed air.” (Make believe to do so, then pick up the closed tube.) “I drop the ball in again, and this time it will remain suspended till I permit the compressed air to escape.” (Pick up tube, holding it vertically a few inches above the table.) “Say when you would like the ball to fall. Now? Good! I withdraw my strong won’t and the ball falls at once.” (Switch loop, allowing it to do so, then pass tube, closing it, to opposite hand and load into it duplicate ball at top; then replacing tube on table.)

“Now, by way of variety, we will try compressing the ball instead of the air.” (Pick up ball left on table and make believe to transfer it to the opposite hand. Then, with the left hand empty, make pretence of crushing it into the hand.) “The ball is now resolved into its component atoms. You didn’t see them go? No, of course you didn’t. For the time being they are dematerialised: but the compressed air in the tube will soon solidify them again.” (Lift tube, keeping ball suspended.) “It has not got solid yet, but we shall not have long to wait.” (After a few moments again lift tube, opening it and allowing ball to pass through.) “Here is the ball, now as solid as before.”

Transfer tube closed to opposite hand and in so doing load in red ball at top. In replacing tube on table open and close it again, so that the ball shall fall, but shall rest within the tube on the table.

“Now I will show you another curious effect. A ball which has been dematerialised in that way becomes very sensitive to colour. I will just give the ball a rub with this red silk handkerchief and drop it into the tube again.” Drop in white ball after rubbing, keeping tube closed; then raise it and show red ball at bottom.

“Here it is again, you see, but it has taken the colour of the handkerchief and is now a rosy red, a sort of maiden’s blush; the blush of a very shy maiden. Unfortunately maiden’s blush is not a fast colour, unless it’s the wrong kind; the kind that’s rubbed in with a powder puff. This kind soon gets pale again. I rub the ball again, this time with a white handkerchief, and again drop it into the tube.”

Drop in red ball, tube closed, lift and show white ball, under cover of its appearance transferring tube to opposite hand and allowing red ball to run back into palm to be got rid of a moment later.

“I think I heard a lady say, ‘Where is the red ball?’ This is the red ball, at least it was the red ball a moment ago. There is no other, for, as you see, the tube is empty.”

Again drop tube over candle as in Fig. 30. Pass ball from hand to hand and finally make believe to swallow it, meanwhile dropping it into the profonde.

“After being treated like this the ball becomes so volatile that I used to be always losing it. But I never lose it now. I just swallow it and then I know just where it is when I want it. It saves a lot of trouble.”

THE BEWILDERING BLOCKS

The blocks which give its title to this trick are inch-square wooden cubes, three in number, as illustrated in Fig. 32. Each is coloured black on two of its opposite sides; these in use being made top and bottom. The four remaining sides are in the case of one block red, of another white, and of a third blue. The only other item of apparatus known to the spectators is a square cardboard tube, as depicted in Fig. 33. This is about five inches long, and of such dimensions laterally as to let either block slide by its own weight easily through it, but no more. All four items may be freely submitted to inspection, for in this case appearances are not deceitful. Both the blocks and the tube are no more and no less than they seem to be.

In exhibiting the trick, the tube is placed upright on the table, and the three blocks are dropped into it one after another, the company being requested to note particularly the order in which they are inserted, which we will suppose to be in the first instance blue, then white, and lastly red, as shown without the tube in Fig. 32. It is clear that, once inserted, they cannot by any natural means alter their relative positions, but, strange to say, when they are again uncovered, the red block just inserted at the top is found to have passed to the bottom, the other two moving up accordingly.

This surprising effect is produced by the secret introduction into the tube of a fourth block of which the spectators know nothing. This, which we will call the “trick” block, is, like the rest, coloured black at the top and bottom; but of the remaining four sides two, contiguous to each other, are red, and the other two blue.

When the tube is handed back to the performer after inspection, before placing it on the table he secretly introduces the trick block into its lower end, privately noting against which sides of the tube the two red faces will lie, and taking care in placing the tube upon the table that the angle formed by these two sides shall be to the front. The other three blocks are then, in accordance with the patter, dropped in from above, in the order shown in Fig. 32, resting, unknown to the spectators, on top of the trick block. When the performer lifts off the tube, which he does grasping it diagonally between thumb and finger at about an inch from the top, he does so with gentle pressure, thereby holding back the uppermost block within the tube, and exposing the two others with the trick block at the bottom, as indicated by Fig. 34.

I gave a description of this trick in the Magician of February, 1914. The patter for its exhibition was based on a popular nursery legend, and as this mode of presentation won general approval from the juveniles I cannot do better than repeat it practically as there given. The needful working instructions will be found interspersed with the patter.

“What I am going to show you now is not a trick, or, if you can call it a trick, it is one that works itself, for you will see for yourselves that I have really nothing to do with it. It is just an illustration of the force of bad example.

“No doubt you have all heard of a young gentleman called Fidgety Phil. There is a little poem about him. It says:

“There are a lot more verses but I am sorry to say I don’t know them. However, these few lines are enough to show you what sort of a boy Fidgety Phil was. He was the kind of boy that wherever he is, he wants to be somewhere else. When he was standing up he wanted to sit down, and when he was sitting down he wriggled about on his chair till he was allowed to stand up again.

“These little blocks are all that are left of a box of bricks which are said to have belonged to Fidgety Phil and they show what even a box of bricks may come to if a bad example is constantly set before them. These three little bricks have got to be just as fidgety as Phil was himself. Anyhow, that is the only way in which I can account for their queer behaviour.

“Please have a good look at them, and see if you can discover anything peculiar about them. I can’t, myself.” (The blocks are handed for examination.) “They seem to me to be just ordinary bits of coloured wood, and this square tube is believed to have been a chimney pot belonging to the same set. I want you to notice particularly that the bricks are just the right size to fit closely in the chimney. They go in quite easily; but when they are once inside they can’t turn round, or turn over, or change places. But the curious thing is that though they can’t they do, as you will see presently.

“I place the chimney-pot here on the table, where you can see all round it, and I drop the three bricks into it one by one. Notice particularly the order in which I put them in. First, the blue. You heard it go down. Next, the white, and now, the red. Don’t forget. Blue at the bottom, white in the middle, and red at the top.

“Now, without my saying or doing anything, they will at once begin to shift about. They can’t keep still for more than a few seconds. When I lift off the chimney pot, you will find that they have changed places.” (It is lifted accordingly, performer holding back the uppermost block within it by gentle pressure on opposite angles of the tube, and exhibiting only the three lower blocks now as in Fig. 34.)

“There, as I told you, like Fidgety Phil, they couldn’t keep still. The white brick has climbed to the top, the red one has gone down to the bottom, and the blue one is now in the middle.

“We will try again. I will put the bricks in in just the same order, to make it easier for you to remember them.”

Performer has meanwhile allowed the red block, left in the upper part of the tube, to sink to the bottom, checked by the third finger, and replaces tube upright on table.

“As before, I drop in first the blue, then the white, then the red.” (This last being the trick block, care must be taken to keep its red sides well to the front.)

“Again I lift off the chimney pot, and again you see, the bricks have changed places. White has come to the top, and red has gone to the bottom again.”

The trick block, which this time remained at the top, is now allowed to slide down to the bottom. The tube is again placed on the table, but so turned that the blue sides of the block within it are brought to the front.

“I can’t tell you why the bricks behave in this way, but you can see for yourselves that I have nothing to do with it. We will try it once more, and for a change I will put the red block in first, then the white and then the blue. That order will be easy to remember. Red, white and blue reckoning from the bottom upwards. Again I remove the cover. The same thing has happened again, but with a little difference. White has come to the top again, but blue has this time gone to the bottom.”

While attention is drawn to the new order of the blocks, the performer allows the ordinary blue one, now left in the tube, to slide out into his hand, and in picking up the others secretly substitutes this for the trick block, which is now at the bottom of the tube.

“Once more, ladies and gentlemen, here is the chimney pot, and here are the three bricks, for inspection by any one who cares to look at them. Perhaps some of you may be able to account for their remarkable behaviour. It’s a puzzle to me; but I never was good at guessing. My own idea is that they are haunted by the ghost of Fidgety Phil. If not, I give it up.”

AN “OD” FORCE

To avoid misconception, it may be well to state at once that the peculiar spelling of the word “od” in the above title is not a printer’s error. The explanation will be found in the patter, which is founded on a discovery claimed to have been made by a scientist at one time of world-wide renown, and the responsibility for so spelling the word rests with him. For programme purposes the reader is at liberty to re-name the trick according to his own fancy. “Mysterious Motion,” or “Moved by Magic” would fairly represent the effect produced, which consists in causing a borrowed coin to move automatically at the will of the operator, in various directions.

The requirements for the trick are as follows:

(1) The “tramway” whereon the coin is to be made to travel. This consists of a slab of wood thirteen inches long by four wide, and three-eighths of an inch thick and covered as to its upper side with fine black cloth. To the cloth-covered side of this is attached, by means of a screw at each corner, a parallelogram of brass or copper wire enclosing a space two inches wide. The four screws, which are likewise of brass, and which are of the round-headed kind, are within the parallelogram and serve to keep the wire extended. Midway at each end is another screw, driven in outside the wire, in such manner as to make all taut. These last two screws, for a reason connected with the working of the trick, stand up a shade higher than the other four, but the difference is not great enough to be noticeable. See Fig. 35.

(2) A special “pull” carried on the person of the performer. This consists of a fine black thread, to one end of which is attached a weight travelling up and down the trouser leg, after the manner described (in connection with a self-suspending wand) at page 111 of “Later Magic.” In the present case, however, the weight is much smaller, being in fact just large enough to rather more than counterbalance the coin used in the trick, plus the friction to be overcome by the thread in the working of the trick. The degree of such friction is an uncertain quantity, as it will largely depend on the nature of the operator’s underwear and its closeness to his own body. The precise weight most effective must be ascertained by previous experiment, and regulated accordingly.

It will be found convenient to use by way of weight a glass tube, closed at the bottom like a test-tube and loaded with buckshot, more or less in quantity according to the weight required. The mouth of the tube is closed by a cork, through which one end of the thread is passed, and secured on the under side by a knot and a spot of gum. When the minimum weight that will effectually serve the desired purpose has been ascertained, any vacant space above the leaden pellets should be filled with cotton wool (to prevent rattling) and the cork should then be cemented into the tube. If preferred, the wool may be interspersed among the buckshot.

The opposite end of the thread, which will be somewhere about thirty inches in length (this again being a point to be determined by experiment), is passed through the curled end of a good-sized safety pin. This, for use in the trick, is attached to the inside of the performer’s vest, just within the lowest part of the opening. To the free-end of the thread, after passing through the loop of the pin, is attached a disc of copper or zinc, three-quarters of an inch in diameter, against which, on one side, is pressed and flattened out a pellet of conjurer’s wax, in good adhesive condition. If the length of the thread has been duly regulated, the little disc will rest normally just within the vest, but can be drawn out the extent of a couple of feet or so, returning swiftly to its hiding place the moment it is released.

(3) A glass ball—professedly crystal.

(4) An ordinary match-box, empty.

Instructions for the working of the trick will be most conveniently given step by step with the patter, which may run as follows:

“In the early days of Queen Victoria’s reign, when the oldest of us here present were good little boys or girls, and the rest were not born or thought of, there lived a celebrated scientific gentleman, called the Baron von Reichenbach. I am sorry to say he was a German, but he couldn’t help it. As his father and mother were Germans, he had to be one too. It shows how careful children ought to be in the choice of their parents. He invented a lot of useful things, among them creosote and paraffin. Neither of them smells very nice, but they don’t trouble about that in Germany.

“Besides being a great chemist, Von Thingany dabbled in what are called the occult sciences, and he claimed to have discovered a new force (a sort of magnetism, only different) and which, he declared, pervaded every thing in nature, especially crystal. Directed by a strong will, like his own, or mine, it would do all sorts of wonderful things. It seemed to me that such a force would come in very handy for magical purposes, and I set to work to invent it over again, and I have at any rate produced something very like it. The Baron called his force ‘odd,’ but he spelt it ‘od,’ which is odd too. You must judge for yourselves whether my force is the same as his, and you can spell it which way you like.

“I have only been able so far to work up a very small amount of the force, say about six mouse-power, so it won’t turn tables, or lift pianos. I can only get it, so far, to move a small weight like a florin or a half-dollar, and that only for a very short distance. For greater conveniences I have made this little tramway for the coin to perform upon. These wires which you see are not for it to travel on, but merely to get more equal distribution of the force. There is nothing out of the way about it, nor with this ball, except that it is crystal. Examine both as much as you please.”

The two articles are accordingly offered for inspection. The performer takes back the tramway in the left hand, holding it by one end in such manner that it is gripped in the fork of the thumb, leaving the thumb itself comparatively free. Taking back the ball with the right hand and remarking “Now to develop the force,” he rubs it on his left coat-sleeve, and strokes the surface of the tramway two or three times with it.

“Having now established a proper degree of ‘oddity’ between the tram and the crystal, I will ask for the loan of a half-dollar (or florin as the case may be) marked in any way the owner pleases.”

He replaces the ball on the table, and in the act of again turning to the audience gets hold of the waxed disc and draws it away from the body, holding it clipped between the ends of the first and second fingers, the left thumb pressing the thread against the cloth top of the tramway, and acting for the time being (and indeed throughout the trick) as a brake neutralising at pleasure the pull of the weight.

He receives the coin on the tramway; then picking it up with the right hand, makes some observation as to the mark, meanwhile pressing the waxed side of the disc against it, then replacing it, disc down, in the middle of the tramway.

“I shall now, by means of the ‘od’ force, compel the coin to move towards me.” This he does accordingly, by relaxing the pressure of the thumb upon the thread and merely bringing the pull of the weight into operation. When the coin has all but reached the nearer end of the tramway, he says, “We will now see if we can make it travel a little longer distance.” So saying he draws the thread out again and lays the coin on the farther end of the tram, and again makes it travel slowly back. A good effect may be here produced by making it stop halfway, and (after remarking in a casual way that the power is hardly strong enough) picking up the ball, again rubbing it upon the sleeve and moving it, a few inches distance, in the direction in which the coin is to travel, when it resumes its journey accordingly.

Once more picking up the coin, he replaces it at the farther end of the tramway, but in so doing passes the thread outside and around the screw at that end. He then remarks, as if bethinking himself: “By the way, a lady suggested the other night that the coin was attracted towards me by my personal magnetism. I know I am an attractive man: I have been told so frequently but that is not the explanation in this case, as I will prove to you by making the coin travel away from me.” So saying, he draws the coin towards him, easing off the pressure on the thread to enable him to do so, and leaves it at the inner end. The ball is now moved away from himself, and the pressure of the brake being relaxed, the coin is now drawn in the same direction.

“‘Quod erat demonstrandum,’ as our old friend Shakespeare (or was it Euclid) used to say.” (To the lender of the coin.) “You must take care of this coin, Sir; it is now charged with a minute quantity of the ‘od’ force, and so long as you keep it you can never be ‘stony-broke.’ I will show you just one more effect with it before I return it to you.”

While speaking, he has carelessly picked up the coin, and replaced it on the inner side of the screw so that this shall be no longer encircled by the thread. Picking up the match box from the table, he pushes out the “tray” portion with the forefinger; then throwing aside the outer case, he picks up the tray, and inverts it over the coin.

“I will now show you that the ‘od’ force still operates even though it is cut off from any direct connection with the subject of the experiment: but in this case a little more power is required.” So saying he rubs the glass ball again on his coat-sleeve, and, moving the ball accordingly, causes the coin to travel towards him, the match-box naturally moving with it. In again picking up the coin, to return it to the owner, he detaches it from the disc, which flies back to its original resting-place.

THE MYSTERY OF THE THREE SEALS

This is a trick involving some little trouble in the way of preparation, and perhaps a little more than average address on the part of the performer, but on the other hand it costs little; for all the needful appliances may be homemade, and in the hands of an expert the trick will amply repay the time and trouble expended upon it. Baldly stated, its effect consists in the magical introduction of a marked coin into the innermost of a nest of three envelopes, each securely sealed.

The requirements for the trick are as under:

1. Two nests of envelopes. The innermost of each is one of the little square kind used in shops to contain copper “change,” or to hold the weekly wage of an employee. It should be of cartridge or stout manila paper, and about two inches square. The next larger is of the ordinary square or so-called square-note size, and the third a little larger still. Envelopes of the two last mentioned sizes are not always to be obtained made of cartridge or manila, but this condition is not in their case absolutely essential. The flap of each envelope must be stuck down and sealed with red wax.[18]

2. A special envelope, which we will call the “trick” envelope. This is of the same size and kind as the innermost of the nested envelopes but has undergone special preparation as follows: Taking two ordinary envelopes, cut round the edges of one of them with a penknife, completely dividing back from front. Take the plain or non-flap side of the one so treated, lay it squarely under the flap of the other, and stick the flap down upon it in the ordinary way: then add a seal of red wax, as closely as possible corresponding in appearance with the two seals of the innermost of the nested envelopes. Lastly, cut away the superfluous paper round the seal and the edges of the flap. The envelope will now be shown as in Fig. 36, and when closed will have the appearance of an envelope sealed in the ordinary way, though it as yet lacks the connecting medium for actually securing it.

3. The “coin mat” (page 4) freshly treated with the usual adhesive. The side so treated is to be turned downwards on the table with a shilling pressed against the adhesive portion.

4. A penknife, to be used as envelope opener.

As shortly as possible before the presentation of the trick, the trick envelope must be further prepared by spreading a thin layer of seccotine on that portion of the underside of the flap immediately under the seal.

N. B. This must not be done too long beforehand, as it is essential to the success of the trick that the envelope be used while the seccotine is still in a “tacky” condition.

The envelope prepared as above, to be laid on the table, behind some small object, or preferably just inside the foremost rim of a Japanese tray; at one corner, mouth uppermost, and flap to the rear. Under these conditions, the butting of the opposite edge of the envelope against the forward wall of the tray will be found greatly to facilitate the subsequent introduction of the borrowed coin. Before so placing the envelope, its edges on each side should be pressed slightly inwards, so as to make it expand a little at the opening.

These arrangements duly made, the performer may introduce the trick as follows:

“I don’t know whether anybody here remembers George the Third, I can’t say I do myself. He was before my time, but there is a funny little story told about him. One day when out for a walk, he went into a farmhouse where he found the family having their dinner. One dish consisted of apple-dumplings, and the question crossed the King’s mind, ‘How on earth did the apples get into the dumplings?’ He didn’t like to ask, but he couldn’t get the puzzle out of his head. He thought about it so much and it worried him so that at last he went clean out of his mind. He became non compos mentis, which is the doctors’ polite way of saying dotty.

“I mention this story by way of a caution. What I am going to show you is ever so much more incomprehensible than any number of apple-dumplings; in fact, so extra-extraordinary that if anybody here was the least bit excitable and I sprung it upon him unawares he might go dotty like old Georgie. So if any of you feel at all nervous, don’t hesitate to go home, or you can go and sit on the stairs till this particular experiment is over. Nobody moves! I am pleased to find that you are all so strong-minded, but if anything happens don’t blame me.

“I have known strong men; men of massive intellect, like myself, come here with a smile on their faces, but when they left the smile was replaced by an air of grim determination. You could see at a glance that they had made up their minds to find out how it was done, or die. They haven’t come again: so I suppose they died.[19]

“As you are prepared to run the risk I will ask some gentleman to oblige me with the loan of a shilling, marked, in some unmistakable way. Thank you, Sir. You have marked the coin? Then please place it here, on this little tray. I won’t touch it myself at present. All please keep one eye upon it, the other eye you had better keep on me.”

Receive the coin on the mat, held in right hand. After showing the left hand empty, transfer the mat to that hand and show the right empty. Return the mat to right hand, but before doing so turn that hand over so as to receive the mat with thumb undermost. Just as you reach the table to place the mat upon it bring the second and third fingers over the borrowed coin, and under cover of your own body turn the mat over. In putting it down on the table draw away the borrowed coin into the hand and palm it. To the eye of the spectator the state of things will be unaltered, your own coin, now uppermost on the mat, being taken for the borrowed one.

You continue, standing behind your table, and resting the right hand, with the palmed coin, close to the trick envelope, and holding up the two nests in the other hand: “I have here two envelopes, or, to be exact, six envelopes, for each of those you see contains two more, one within the other: all carefully sealed. I am going to pass the coin this gentleman has lent me into the innermost of one or other of them, I don’t care which, for they are exactly alike, so I shall leave the choice to yourselves.”

While you are speaking as above the disengaged hand slips the genuine coin into the trick envelope, closes it, pressing the flap well down, and palms it, dropping it a moment or two later into a pochette till needed.

“You decide for this envelope? Just as you please. As the other will not be needed I will ask somebody to open it, and bear witness that things are exactly as I have stated.”

Leaving the chosen envelope on the table in full view and bringing forward the other, have the latter opened by some member of the company with the penknife. Hand the envelope produced from it, with the knife, to a second spectator, to be dealt with in like manner. When the innermost is reached, have this opened by the lender of the marked coin: this apparent proof of good faith tending to make him less critical when, at a later stage, he is invited to do the same with the trick envelope.

“Nothing could be fairer, could it? You will all agree that it would have been impossible to introduce anything into the innermost of those three envelopes without breaking all three seals. When I say impossible, of course I mean impossible to a mere man. To a magician there is no such word as impossible, except in the dictionary. In fact, the more impossible a thing is, the more any respectable magician makes up his mind to do it. Watch me carefully, please. I want you to be quite sure all through that there is no deception.

“Now then, to pass the coin into this other envelope.” As you say this, you pick up the coin mat, depress it enough for all present to see the coin upon it, and make the motion of sliding it off into the left hand. This should be done while standing a little in front of your table. In turning to replace the mat, reverse it and lay it with the side to which the coin adheres downwards. If deftly executed, this reversal of the mat will be imperceptible, as it is covered by the turn to the table. Even if it were noticed it would have practically no significance for the spectators, who naturally take it for granted that the coin has passed from the mat into your hand. The moment you have laid down the mat, the now disengaged hand picks up the nest of envelopes, and you make believe to rub the coin (supposedly in left hand) into it. This done, you hold the envelope aloft in each hand alternately, allowing it to be seen that the hands are otherwise empty.

“So far, so good! The coin has passed from my hands into the innermost envelope. But I don’t expect you to take my word for it. Will you, sir” (any given spectator) “open the outermost envelope, first, however, satisfying yourself that it is still securely sealed?”

It is just possible, though not very likely, that the person to whom the envelope and penknife have been handed may notice, and remark audibly, that he cannot feel any coin in the envelope. If such a remark is made, you reply that the coin naturally had to be dematerialised before it could pass into the envelope, and it will take a few minutes for it to re-materialise, but it will become gradually more solid, and will then be distinctly perceptible.

The outer envelope having been opened you take back its contents, and under pretext of getting as many witnesses as possible to fair play, have the next envelope opened by a second person, seated at some little distance from the lender of the shilling. The last named gentleman is invited himself to open the last envelope, or rather, the trick envelope, which you in transit substitute for it. Having already opened a precisely similar envelope, and found it securely fastened, he is not likely to anticipate anything different about this one. If he uses the penknife and cuts it open along the edge of the flap in the usual way he will naturally hold it with the thumb upon the seal and all will be well. As a rule, he will be more concerned to identify the coin as the one he lent than to seek for any suspicious feature about the envelope. Even in the unlikely case of his tearing open the envelope, instead of cutting it, it is doubtful whether he would detect the use of the seccotine, which should by this time be practically dry; and by the rest of the spectators it would still be taken for granted that this envelope, like the rest, was sealed in the ordinary way.

It will be obvious to the expert reader that the central idea, viz., the transformation by the use of seccotine of an open envelope into one apparently sealed in the regular way, is one that admits of a wide variety of detail as to the mode of presentation. For instance: The procedure suggested for getting rid of the duplicate coin, and apparently rubbing it into the envelope, is but one of many alternatives. The coin might be “passed” by the agency of fire, i.e., wrapped in a piece of flash paper with open fold at bottom and flared off at the psychological moment over a candle flame, or it might be got rid of by vanishing it into the pocket of a black art mat, or by the use of a black art patch, as described at page 20.

The critical part of the trick is the “switching” of the two envelopes at the final stage, but in view of their small size this is a matter of very little difficulty. The expert will probably do this after some fashion of his own. The less instructed reader may use the following plan, which he will find by no means difficult of execution, though it will need some little practice to work it neatly.

While the second envelope is being opened, get the trick envelope from the pochette into the right hand, clipping it against the second and third joints of the second and third fingers, with the “seal” side turned away from them. When the genuine envelope is handed to you receive it with the left hand, and immediately transfer it to the right, pushing it between the fingers and the palmed one, with the seal facing in the same direction. The moment it is masked by the fingers push the trick envelope outward with the thumb, bringing this into view in its place. Smartly executed the change is instantaneous and cannot possibly be detected. The apparent object of passing it from hand to hand is to have the left hand empty and so free to take back the penknife from the last holder. From this point all will be easy, as it is the trick envelope which is now alone in view, and all you have to guard against is any accidental exposure of the one now hidden in the hand.

This description may justly appear somewhat long-winded, but its length is occasioned by the number of small details demanding notice. In performance, the trick should not take, at most, more than ten minutes. The introductory patter may of course be shortened at pleasure.

THE WIZARD’S POCKETBOOK

This is an extremely small volume, consisting in fact of six pages only, and no letterpress, the instructions for its use being embodied in a separate leaflet. On each of its pages are miniature reproductions of thirty-six playing cards, six in a row; every card of the pack being represented once at least among the whole number. The object of the book is to enable the owner to discover the name of a card drawn (or merely thought of) by some member of the company. The chooser is only asked to look at the book, and state on which one or more of its pages the card in question appears, when the performer, without seeing or handling the book himself, can instantly name the card. The six pages of the book are reproduced in the diagrams which follow. Figs. 37-42.

To be in a position to work the trick, it is necessary in the first place to memorise each of the fifty-two cards of the pack in connection with a particular number. This may at first sight appear a formidable undertaking, but it is not so in reality.

All that really needs to be memorised is the order of the suits; which is as under:

• 1. Clubs.
• 2. Hearts.
• 3. Spades.
• 4. Diamonds.

This order may be instantly recalled by using as a memory-peg the word CHaSeD, which contains the initials of the four suits in the proper order, or the reader may if he prefers it recall them by reflecting that Cool Heads Soon Decide.

The arrangement of each suit follows the natural order, the ace of clubs being No. 1; the deuce 2; and the trey 3; knave 11; queen 12 and king 13. The card next following, viz., the ace of hearts, will be 14; the deuce of hearts 15, and so on, the complete arrangement being as shown below:

• 1. Ace of clubs.
• 2. Deuce of clubs.
• 3. Trey of clubs.
• 4. Four of clubs.
• 5. Five of clubs.
• 6. Six of clubs.
• 7. Seven of clubs.
• 8. Eight of clubs.
• 9. Nine of clubs.
• 10. Ten of clubs.
• 11. Knave of clubs.
• 12. Queen of clubs.
• 13. King of clubs.
• 14. Ace of hearts.
• 15. Deuce of hearts.
• 16. Trey of hearts.
• 17. Four of hearts.
• 18. Five of hearts.
• 19. Six of hearts.
• 20. Seven of hearts.
• 21. Eight of hearts.
• 22. Nine of hearts.
• 23. Ten of hearts.
• 24. Knave of hearts.
• 25. Queen of hearts.
• 26. King of hearts.
• 27. Ace of spades.
• 28. Deuce of spades.
• 29. Trey of spades.
• 30. Four of spades.
• 31. Five of spades.
• 32. Six of spades.
• 33. Seven of spades.
• 34. Eight of spades.
• 35. Nine of spades.
• 36. Ten of spades.
• 37. Knave of spades.
• 38. Queen of spades.
• 39. King of spades.
• 40. Ace of diamonds.
• 41. Deuce of diamonds.
• 42. Trey of diamonds.
• 43. Four of diamonds.
• 44. Five of diamonds.
• 45. Six of diamonds.
• 46. Seven of diamonds.
• 47. Eight of diamonds.
• 48. Nine of diamonds.
• 49. Ten of diamonds.
• 50. Knave of diamonds,
• 51. Queen of diamonds.
• 52. King of diamonds.

The arrangement of the table being once understood, the number associated with any given card in the club suit suggests itself automatically, e.g., the seven of clubs is likewise No. 7 in the list. To ascertain the name of the card corresponding to any of the higher numbers, all that is needed is to subtract from that number 13, or such higher multiple of thirteen as the case will admit, and the difference will represent its position in its own suit.

Suppose, for instance, that the performer desires to know what card answers to the number 20. Deducting thirteen from 20, the remainder, 7, tells him that the card is the seventh (i.e. the seven) of the second suit, viz., hearts. If he wants to know the name of No. 29, he deducts 26, when the remainder, 3, tells him that the card is the three of the third suit, spades. If the card be No. 40, the number to be deducted will be 39, and the remainder, 1, tells him that the card is the first of the fourth suit, viz., the ace of diamonds. After a very few trials, this little exercise in mental arithmetic becomes so familiar that the calculation becomes practically instantaneous.

Going a step further; with each of the six pages of the pocket-book is associated a special number, known as its “key” number. These are as under:

The memorising of these is also a very simple matter, for it will be noted that the key numbers are the first six factors of the familiar geometrical progression, 1, 2, 4, 8, 16, 32. Printed as below:

the upper figures, in ordinary type, expressing the numbers of the pages, and the lower, in black type, the corresponding key numbers, a very small amount of study will associate them so closely in the mind as to fix them firmly in the memory.

Having mastered these two simple lessons, the learner is in a position to use the pocket-book. To ascertain the card chosen, he has only to add together the key numbers of the pages in which he is told that such card appears. The total will be the number at which that card stands in the list given on page 185, and, this being known, it becomes an easy matter to name the card itself.

We will suppose, for instance, that performer is told that the chosen card appears on the second page, and no other. The key number of this page being 2, the card must be the second in the list, viz., the deuce of clubs. If he is told that the chosen card is to be found on pages 1, 3 and 6: the key number of these three pages being 1, 4 and 32: together making 37, and thirty-seven less twenty-six being eleven, he knows that the card must be the eleventh of the third suit, otherwise the knave of spades. If he is told that the card is on the third, fifth and sixth pages, the key numbers of which are 4, 16 and 32, total 52, it is clear that the card must be the last in the list, viz., the king of diamonds.

So much for the working of the trick. But the reader, if of an enquiring mind, will naturally ask, “How is this result obtained?” The answer rests upon a special property of the geometrical progression which forms the six key numbers. It is a curious fact that by the use of these six numbers, either singly or in combination with others of the series, any number, from unity up to 63, can be expressed. Thus, the numbers, 1, 2, 4, 8, 16 and 32 we already have, these being numbers of the series. As to other numbers:

• 1 + 2 = 3
• 4 + 1 = 5
• 4 + 2 = 6
• 4 + 2 + 1 = 7
• 8 + 1 = 9
• 8 + 2 = 10
• 8 + 2 + 1 = 11
• 8 + 4 = 12
• 8 + 4 + 1 = 13

and so on throughout up to 52, which being the limit of the pack, is the highest number with which we need concern ourselves.

In making up the pages of the pocket-book, advantage has been taken of this principle. A given card is inserted on that page or pages (and those only) whose key numbers, alone or added together, correspond with the position which the card holds in the list. Thus the ace of clubs will appear on the first page (not because it is the first card, but because the key number of that page is 1) and on no other. The deuce of clubs, in like manner, on page 2, the key number of that card being two. The next card, the three of clubs, must appear on page 1 and page 2, their key numbers together amounting to 3. The process as to cards standing at higher numbers is the same. Thus, the ace of spades, being the twenty-seventh card, and twenty-seven being the aggregate of 16, 8, 2 and 1, will appear on the first, second, fourth and fifth pages. Conversely, if the performer is told that the card appears on the four pages last named, he knows that it is the twenty-seventh card, i.e., the ace of spades. Any spaces remaining vacant on the page after the whole pack has been dealt with, are filled up by duplicates of cards already figuring on the same page, their appearing under these conditions making no difference to the calculation.

I am indebted to an ingenious amateur, Mr. Victor Farrelly, for the idea of a novel method of using the pocket-book. Mr. Farrelly does not offer of his own accord to show what can be done with it, but keeps it in reserve, for use in a special emergency. Every conjurer meets now and then with the pig-headed person who absolutely declines to have a given card forced upon him, and persists in endeavouring to extract one from some other part of the pack. Armed with the pocket-book, the performer can set such a person at defiance, and indeed get additional kudos from his objectionable behaviour.

He cheerfully gives up the struggle, saying “You seem to think, sir, that I wish to influence your choice in some way. To prove the contrary, I give the pack into your own hands. Shuffle it well. Thank you. Now take from it any card you please. Look at it, and put it in your pocket. You are satisfied, I presume, that I do not know that card? You are quite right. I have not the smallest idea of it, but I shall discover it without the smallest difficulty by a process of mathematical magic. I have here” (producing pocket-book) “a little book of six pages, on each of which thirty-six cards are illustrated. Will you kindly see whether the card you chose is represented among those on the first page? Meanwhile I will divide the pack, which please remember I have not touched since you shuffled it yourself, into six portions, one for each page of the book.” This is done, the six packets being turned face down on the table.

We will suppose that the chosen card is not found on the first page. “Then,” says the performer, “this first packet will tell me nothing, and may be disregarded. Now, for the second page, is your card upon that? It is? Then I draw two cards from the second heap, and turn up one of them. And now for the third page. Do you find your card there? You do? Then I take up three cards from the third packet, and again turn up the last one.”

We will suppose that the chosen card is not found in either the fourth or the fifth page, but re-appears on the sixth, whereupon six cards are counted off from the corresponding packet, and the last of them turned up. The performer has by this time mentally added up the key numbers of the second, third and sixth pages: viz., 2, 4 and 32, together making 38, and knows therefrom that the card is the thirty-eighth in the list, viz., the queen of spades. He does not however at once display his knowledge, but pretends to make a mental calculation from the cards exposed upon the table, giving, if he so pleases, and the cards lend themselves to it, some fanciful explanation of his method. It seems to me, however, that this last is a needless elaboration. Personally, I should prefer merely to call attention by name to the cards exposed, and say, “When these three cards appear in conjunction, it is clear that the card drawn was the queen of spades” (or whatever it may happen to be). Any one deluded, as the majority will probably be, into believing that you really infer the name of the drawn card from those on the table, will be farther from the real solution than ever.