The black art, as the art of magic is termed, has arrived at a degree of perfection that is amazing. The magicians of the Orient for a long time were held up as superior to any rivals outside their country. They sat in the streets, and without paraphernalia caused flowers to burst from pots of earth and spring into instantaneous growth; they had their then wonderful basket trick, in which a boy, having entered a basket, to all appearances just large enough to receive him, remained there while the magician ran his sword through the basket in all directions, after which the boy came forth unharmed; there were sword swallowers among them, and altogether their skill in and knowledge of the art of mystifying was considered beyond reproach. The Chinese, too, profess to be good jugglers and magicians, and so they are. But the Europeans and the Americans have stepped in, and the Hindoo and the Chinaman may now go to the rear in magic. Houdin, Heller, Macallister, and Hermann have done tricks far superior to anything the Eastern wonder-workers are capable of, either in the way of mechanical intricacy or manual dexterity. The latter feature is cultivated entirely, and you no longer see the magician's stage covered high and low with glittering paraphernalia, whose brightness was beautifully set off by the black velvet hangings in the background. Now there is nothing presented to the view of the audience except a small table in the centre of the stage. Taking Mr. Hermann, for example: This magician comes out in full evening dress, with coat sleeves pushed back revealing his immaculate shirt cuffs and gorgeous sleeve buttons. Whatever articles he will inject into his tricks he carries in the capacious pockets of his coat or in the palm of his hand. He introduces himself pleasantly to the audience in his broken English, and at once the performance begins. From that time on until the last illusion is given the audience remains in darkness as to his methods. He seldom leaves the stage, going only up to the last entrance, where, by standing against the projecting wing his confederate can fill his pockets with what he needs. A magician's coat looks like a very common-place effort at the swallow-tail article. That's all it is exteriorly, but if you get a glimpse of the side the lining is on, you will find from eight to a dozen large and small pockets in the garment. Two of the pockets are huge affairs, running from the front edge back under the arms, thus leaving a wide mouth, so that large articles can quickly be dropped into them.

Hermann is a great trickster, not only on the stage, but off. He walked into a barber-shop in Memphis one day, went up to the place where the razors were kept, and taking up one, calmly cut his throat, standing before the glass after the gash had been made, and with evident pleasure regarding the profuse flow of blood from the wound. The barbers and their customers ran wildly into the streets yelling like a tribe of Feejees around a barbecue of roast missionary. They called the police, and raised a small riot in their immediate neighborhood. The police came and entered the shop, only to find Hermann coming forward to greet them, laughing and remarking that it was only a little practical joke. There was not the slightest sign of any wound upon his throat, and it was only when the barbers were told that it was Hermann, the magician, that they could be brought to believe that he had not really cut his throat through, and then by some wonderful healing art closed the gap again.

During his engagement in New York last season, the famous magician demoralized a waiter and the proprietor of a German beer saloon by making the foaming glass appear and disappear, and in receiving the accurate change of a five-dollar note counted it before the chagrined proprietor and made it appear that the amount returned was $12, which he coolly pocketed. But his best trick was the "sell" he perpetrated on the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children. He had it announced that he would resume his old feat of blowing a child from a cannon, and making it appear safe and sound in the gallery of the theatre. This set the society in arms at once. He was notified that if he tried it the child (an apprentice) would be taken from him. He replied that he was going to rehearse the feat on Thursday morning, anyhow; whereupon an agent of the society, with a writ of habeas corpus, rushed upon the scene. Just as he was about to ram the child into the piece of heavy ordnance aimed at the gallery of the Grand Opera House, the agent seized it and a tussel ensued between him and the magician. In the pulling and hauling one of the legs of the disputed youngster came off, and it was discovered that it was only a gigantic, well-made-up doll. The agent escaped amid roars of laughter, leaving his trophy behind. The press, too, had been sold by the trick, so none of the papers published the item.

Much as Hermann has sold others, he has been pretty badly sold himself. I remember one night while Hermann was playing South, and doing his cabinet trick, some of the boys around the theatre put up a job on him that resulted disastrously as far as the trick was concerned. The cabinet is a large contrivance greatly resembling the huge refrigerators in use in grocery stores, and some who know, say, bearing a great resemblance to saloon refrigerators. It has a false back and is so constructed that one or more persons may be hidden in the rear compartment. In the trick Hermann makes use of two colored boys, who must be alike in size and facial appearance. Only one of the boys figures in the trick at first, going through a funny bit of play and dialogue with the magician, until at last he leaves the stage to get a knife with which to combat a big monkey that has been locked up in the cabinet. When boy No. 1 goes off the stage for a knife boy No. 2 comes back with it and is hurriedly pushed into the cabinet. Meanwhile boy No. 1 has left the stage-door and is running fast as he can around the block. The magician after standing at the cabinet a few minutes—just long enough to allow boy No. 1 to get to the front entrance of the theatre—opens the door, and lo! boy No. 2 is gone. "Boyee! Boy-ee!" the magician shouts, "Say boy-ee w'ere are you, boy-ee?" "Here I is, boss," the boy shouts, rushing breathlessly up the aisle. The trick surprises everybody, and is a good one. On the occasion I refer to, the "boys" got a policeman to arrest the lad while he was running around from the back to the front door. The blue-coat took him to the station and Hermann shouted in vain for his "boy-ee," and was finally obliged to close the trick without the appearance of his darkey confederate.

As I have spoken above about the jugglers and tricksters of the Orient I may as well say that I witnessed the performances of the trickster who was in Harry French's Hindoo troupe. There was nothing marvellous in his feats, the boy-and-basket trick alone being the only thing of an astonishing character that he presented, and that being susceptible of easy explanation, the boy being light and supple and capable of moving or contracting his body so as to keep out of the way of the sword thrusts, which by the way were not of a violent character. In a private entertainment given by this juggler he appeared more awkward and clumsier than many an amateur who undertakes to furnish a parlor entertainment for his friends. It was evident that he would undergo suffering and pain for the success of a trick, as he took an ordinary wooden tooth-pick and while pretending to push it, in its entirety, into one corner of his eye, actually did push part of it in, not having broken it off short enough in the process of concealing it. Again he swallowed a yard of black thread, and taking a knife cut a small opening in his side and brought forth a yard of black thread that had, of course, been concealed there beforehand. The thread was bloody and was drawn slowly from its place of concealment.

A correspondent writing from China about the street jugglers to be seen there, says: "Sword-swallowing and stone-eating appear to be the commonest feats, and operators of this description may be found in almost every street. One fellow, however, performed a number of feats in front of our hotel, which demand from me more than a passing notice. He stationed himself in the middle of the street, and having blown a bugle-blast to give warning that he was about to begin his entertainment, he took a small lemon or orange tree, which was covered with fruit, and balanced it upon his head. He then blew a sort of chirruping whistle, when immediately a number of rice birds came from every direction, and settled upon the boughs of the bush he balanced or fluttered about his head. He then took a cup in his hand, and began to rattle some seeds in it, when the birds disappeared. Taking a small bamboo tube, he next took the seeds and putting, one in it blew it at one of the fruit, when it opened and out flew one of the birds, which fluttered about the circle surrounding the performer. He continued to shoot the seeds at the oranges until nearly a dozen birds were released. He then removed the tree from his forehead, and setting it down, took up a dish, which he held above his head, when all the birds flew into it, then covered it over with a cover, and giving it a whirl or two about his head, opened it and displayed a quantity of eggs, the shells of which he broke with a little stick, releasing a bird from each shell. The trick was neatly performed, and defied detection from my eyes. The next trick was equally astonishing and difficult of detection. Borrowing a handkerchief from one of his spectators, he took an orange, cut a small hole in it, then squeezed all the juice out, and crammed the handkerchief into it. Giving the orange to a bystander to hold, he caught up a teapot and began to pour a cup of tea from it, when the spout became clogged. Looking into the pot, apparently to detect what was the matter, he pulled out the handkerchief and returned it to the owner. He next took the orange from the bystander and cut it open, when it was found to be full of rice."

Two of the finest tricks now on the stage are the Ærial suspension and the Indian box-trick. The latter I explain in the next chapter. The Ærial suspension, which is best seen in Prof. Seeman's performances, consists in apparently mesmerizing a young lady while she is standing on a stool between two upright bars, upon each of which she rests an elbow. When she is in the mesmeric state the stool is removed, leaving her suspended upon both elbows; then one of the bars—that under the left elbow—is removed, and the fair subject still remains motionless, her entire weight resting upon the elbow of the right arm, which is extended out from the body, with the hand thrown easily and gracefully against the cheek. Next, her figure is pushed out from the bar through various angles, until at last she reclines upon her strange Ærial couch, which is scarcely more than one inch in diameter. The illusion is a beautiful one, and astonishes all who see it. Occasionally the creaking of the steel joints under the elbow is heard out in the audience, "giving away" the feat, for the actual fact is that the young lady is not in a mesmeric condition, but is held in position by a steel armor worn under her costume, with a joint at the elbow that fits into the upright bar, where a powerful system of leverage holds the body in any position desired.

Hermann's bird trick is a fine one. He comes before the audience with a living bird in a small cage held between both hands, and "Wan! Two! T'ree!" with a sudden movement, and without turning away from the audience spreads his arms, when, lo! the bird and cage have disappeared. The explanation given by some is that the cage is made of rubber, which, when released envelopes the bird in a sort of sack which flies up the magician's sleeve.

Nearly every young man in the land who has seen a magician on the stage, wants to master the black art. It is very easy for him to do so. All he needs is a great deal of what is vulgarly known as "cheek," and termed in theatrical slang, "gall," a quick eye, and ease and rapidity of movement in handling articles. The first thing to be learned is the art of "palming"—concealing small objects in the palm of the hand. Coins, balls, handkerchiefs, etc., are hidden in this way, being held in the open hand by the pressure of the fleshy part of the thumb. In this way the shower of coin and many like tricks are done. When the art of "palming" is understood, rapidity of movement is the next thing, and then come the mechanical and other tricks. Only the old-school magicians—the fakirs—retain the fire-eating trick in their entertainments. Any school-boy can do it now, as the preparation for it is very simple. By anointing the tongue with liquid storax, a red-hot poker may be licked cool, or coals taken from the fire may be placed upon the tongue and left there until they become black. To any person who has an appetite for flames, or for whom five-cent whiskey is not fiery enough, a trial of this trick will be gratifying. And should there be a desire to walk on fire or on red-hot iron, let the aspiring salamander take half an ounce of camphor, dissolve it in two ounces of aqua vitÆ, add to it one ounce of quicksilver, one ounce of liquid storax, which is the droppings of myrrh, and prevents the camphor from firing; take also two ounces of hematis, which is red stone, to be had at the druggist's. Let them beat it to a powder in their great mortar, for being very hard it cannot well be reduced in a small one; add this to the ingredients already specified, and when the walking is to be done anoint the feet with the preparation, when the trick may be accomplished without the slightest danger.

If anybody desires to be ghastly in his trickery, he may cut a man's head off and put it in a platter a yard from his body. This is done by causing a board, a cloth, and a platter to be purposely made with holes in each to fit a boy's neck. The board must be made of two planks, the longer and broader the better; there must be left within half a yard of the end of each plank half a hole, that both the planks being put together, there may remain two holes like those in a pair of stocks. There must be made, likewise, a hole in the cloth; a platter having a hole of the same size in the middle, and having a piece taken out at one side the size of the neck, so that he may place his head above; must be set directly over it; then the boy sitting or kneeling under the board must let the head only remain upon the board in the frame. To make the sight more dreadful, put a little brimstone into a chafing-dish of coals, and set it before the head of the boy, who must gasp two or three times that the smoke may enter his nostrils and mouth, and the head presently will appear stark dead, and if a little blood be sprinkled on his face, the sight will appear more dreadful. This is commonly practised with boys instructed for that purpose. At the other end of the table, where the other hole is made, another boy of the same size as the first boy must be placed, his body on the table and his head through the hole in the table, at the opposite end to where the head is which is exhibited.