CHAPTER VI. THE EDUCATED FLY.
While the glasses were being collected, Frank prepared for the next feat.
The wineglass trick had been cleverly performed, and yet it was done in a very simple manner.
The coat which Merry wore while doing this trick had three little inner pockets on either side, made to hold the six glasses of wine produced from behind the borrowed handkerchief. The glasses were filled, and then over the top of each a rubber cap was stretched, to prevent the wine from spilling. This done, the glasses were placed in the little pockets, and Merry knew which pockets contained the different kinds.
He was careful to secure a large handkerchief. When he performed the trick, he spread the handkerchief out over his breast, and, beneath its cover, reached in and took the glasses of wine from the pockets, deftly removing the rubber caps as he took them out. Then it was easy to pretend to draw the brimming glasses of wine from the handkerchief, and the very fact that the glasses were full to the edge made the feat seem all the more marvelous.
Fortunately the audience had called for the very kinds with which he had provided himself, with the exception of the Rhine wine. No one called for that, but Merry pretended to hear some one call, and forced the wine on a spectator, getting rid of it in that manner.
When he went off the stage to get the trick bottle, he hastily took off his coat and hung under his right arm a rubber bag containing port wine. From this bag a rubber tube ran down his sleeve to his hand. There was a hole in the bottle near the bottom. When he rinsed the bottle in the presence of the audience, he kept his thumb over the hole. While drying the bottle with the towel, he inserted the rubber tube in the hole. Then it was an easy thing to go down into the audience and pour wine from the bottle, which seemed inexhaustible. Whenever he wished to pour out some wine he would press against the rubber bag with his arm, and the wine was forced out through the tube into the bottle.
The glasses were of special make and of very thick glass, making a bulky appearance, but holding a very little wine, so that the marvel was not nearly so great as it seemed.
The "Talking Head" trick was the next one Frank decided to perform. This illusion was made effective by means of a set of mirrors which made it seem that the audience could look right through beneath the table on which the "severed head" seemed to rest, while, in fact, the mirrors hid the body to which the head was attached.
A clever assistant is much needed in performing this trick, and Merry had a good one in M. Mazarin. The business was carried through successfully.
Then came the "Spirit Mysteries," which were a series of cabinet tricks, none of them exactly new, but all of them performed well enough to satisfy the now thoroughly good-natured audience.
The final trick of the evening was announced—"The Educated Fly."
This was something new, and the audience was interested.
Frank had attempted none of the feats requiring extraordinary skill and a large amount of practice, thus escaping the pitfall into which Thaddeus Burnham had feared he would stumble.
Yet he had given an hour of genuine pleasure to the wondering audience.
"Ladies and gentlemen," said Frank, "I will now show for the first time in this place Prof. Zolverein's wonderful 'Educated Fly.' Up to this time there have been plenty of educated cats, dogs, pigs, birds and mice, but I believe this is the first time on record that a genuine educated fly has been on exhibition. Of course this is not an ordinary fly. It is a native of South America, and was captured in Ecuador, near the headwaters of the Amazon. There, far in the mighty tropical forests, the flies grow to an immense size, so that even the famous Jersey mosquito in his highest state of development is a mere pigmy beside them. These flies are not easily kept in captivity, as they almost invariably refuse to eat and pine away and die as soon as they are taken from the fastnesses of the wild forests where they abound. They love their native forests. These flies are possessed of a wonderful intelligence, and they might be readily trained if they did not almost invariably starve themselves to death when held in captivity. Prof. Zolverein was fortunate in securing one of the flies which had become accustomed to captivity, and he was able to teach the tiny creature many astonishing feats. Among other things, the fly is a ready reckoner, as you shall see. Prof. Pombal will entertain you while the stage is being made ready for the final exhibition."
As Frank finished, a voice in the back of the hall cried:
"Rats!"
Merry looked in the direction from whence the sound seemed to come.
"I have no educated rats," he said, quietly; "but if the person who called for them will come forward, I will show the audience an educated monkey."
This caused a laugh, and several persons in the rear of the theater turned to look toward the one who had uttered the cry, a flashily-dressed youth who had entered a few minutes before.
This person grinned a bit, but did not accept Frank's invitation to come forward.
Merry retired, and the curtain was dropped for a few moments.
When the professor finished playing on the piano, the curtain rose swiftly, showing on the stage an easel, against which rested a large mirror in a gilt frame. This mirror was about four and a half feet wide, and three feet high.
Frank walked out briskly upon the stage.
"You will see, ladies and gentlemen," he said, "that I have had this mirror placed in a position where the light falls strongly upon it, and I think you will be able to follow the movements of the fly from any part of the house. First, I wish to show you the mirror."
He then took the mirror down from the easel, and, having shown both sides to the audience, rested it on the floor, leaning it against the easel.
Next he took the glass from the frame and showed that to the audience.
"It is just an ordinary mirror, as you can all see," he said.
Having shown the glass, he rested that against the easel, and took up the frame, which had a wooden back, and showed that to the audience. Then the frame was placed on the easel in its proper position, while the glass still leaned against the bottom part, which it covered up as far as the lower edge of the frame.
As it stood thus, Frank talked glibly a few moments, then he picked up the glass and returned it carefully to the frame.
"Now," he said, taking a piece of soap, "I am going to divide this mirror into twenty-eight even squares."
He proceeded to do so.
"Next," explained Merry, "I will number twenty-six of those squares in order as they come, like this."
He numbered them from one to twenty-six.
"The next square I will mark zero—thus. The last one I will leave blank. That shall be a starting point. Now we will letter those squares in the same manner from 'a' to 'z.'"
This was quickly done.
"At last," he smiled, "we are ready for the wonderful fly."
He stepped toward a small stand, on which rested something covered by a cloth. Removing the cloth, a small cage with very close wiring was seen.
Frank opened a door in one side of the cage, chirping and murmuring something. He put in his hand carefully, and took something from the cage.
By this time the audience was literally throbbing with interest and expectancy.
"What is it?" whispered one.
"It's the fly," said another.
"Fly! Never! Why, it was in a bird cage."
"Well, it's large."
"But not large enough for—— Great Scott!"
Merry had placed the fly in the blank corner of the marked mirror, and everyone was astonished by its appearance.
"It's large as a humming bird!" shrilly hissed a boy. "My! but that's a corker!"
"That can't be a fly!" declared a man.
Then the amazing insect was seen to start to crawl across the face of the mirror.
"Here! here!" laughed Frank, gently catching it and restoring it to the blank place in the lower right-hand corner. "Don't be in a hurry to get to work."
"There is one amazing thing about this fly," he said, turning to smile on the audience. "It is never afraid of working overtime, and it really seems anxious to earn its salary."
The fly moved restlessly in the corner, starting several times as if to creep away, but turning back.
"It is a fly!" said a man's voice in the midst of the audience.
"Now," said Merry, "we are ready to give you one of the most astonishing exhibitions on record. Before you, ladies and gentlemen, you behold a fly that actually thinks and reasons."
"Rats!"
Again that voice from the rear of the hall.
Frank looked keenly in that direction, hoping to discover the person who uttered the derisive cry.
"I will prove to you that I am not making an unfounded claim," the young magician asserted. "Will some person in the audience be kind enough to call one of the numbers marked on the mirror."
"Number one," cried a voice.
"Number one," repeated Frank. "Very well. Now, Solomon," addressing the fly, "will you please show the ladies and gentlemen where number one is located?"
Immediately the fly started and crawled across the face of the mirror to the upper left-hand corner, where it stopped on the number called.
All over the theater there was a flutter.
"Marvelous!" said one.
"Astonishing!" spoke another.
"There must be some trickery about it!" a little man in spectacles was heard to declare. "No fly could be taught to do such a thing."
"Fake!" cried the voice that had twice before shouted "rats."
Frank laughed as if amused.
"Wait," he said, quietly. "This is merely the beginning. What is to follow will astonish you still more. Back, Solomon."
Back to the unmarked square crept the huge fly.
"Some person call a letter, please, requested Frank.
"E," said a woman in the third row.
"E is the letter," said Frank. "Now, Solomon, find it."
The fly started to creep along the bottom of the mirror, hesitated, turned about, started back, stopped.
"Ha! ha! ha!" came a derisive laugh. "The old thing is off its trolley! It's lost."
"Come, Solomon, come," smiled the magician; "they are making sport of you. Are you going to stand that? Find the letter E, and hurry up about it."
Slowly the fly turned, and then it ran swiftly up the face of the mirror till it stopped on the letter E, directly under the figure five.
There was a burst of applause.
"It is the wonder of the age!" excitedly declared a big, fat man whose flushed face seemed to indicate that he had been indulging too freely in liquid refreshments.
"Good enough, Solomon," complimented Merry, in a caressing tone of voice. "You are all right."
"Fake!"
Again that hateful cry.
Now several of the audience were aroused. Men began to look for the disturbing person.
"Put him out!" exclaimed two or three, angrily.
"He has no right to disturb the show," declared a man in the right-hand proscenium box. "I am near enough to see, and this thing is all right."
It happened that the speaker was the mayor of the town, and his words made an impression.
"Whatever Mayor Durgin says is all right must be all right," was the general decision.
Frank ordered the fly back to the starting point.
"Now, ladies and gentlemen," he said, calmly, "I will show you that Solomon is able to reckon, as well as think. Will some person call two of the numbers on the mirror, which added together will not amount to more than twenty-six? Anyone present. I wish you to understand that this is not arranged in advance. So I would like to have some well-known lady name the numbers."
"Mrs. Durgin! Mrs. Durgin!" called several.
The mayor in the box turned and bowed to his wife, smiling. The lady blushed and seemed confused, but she quickly recovered. Then she leaned on the rail of the box, distinctly calling:
"Seven and eleven."
"Come seben, come eleben," laughed a youngster, and that produced some amusement.
"Solomon," said Frank, slowly and distinctly, "I wish you to find the numbers seven and eleven, add them together, and indicate the sum acquired."
"That's getting into pretty deep water," whispered somebody.
Straight up the side of the board ran the fly, stopping on the figure seven.
"All right so far," assured Merry. "Go ahead."
The fly paused a moment, and then crept downward to the left till it rested on the eleven, where it stopped again.
There was a great hush of expectancy.
"Seven and eleven," said Frank. "That is correct. Added together, seven and eleven make how many?"
The fly slowly faced in several different directions, and then it seemed to hop down one square, alighting on the eighteen!
It was not surprising that the audience burst into such a round of applause as had not been previously heard that evening.
Smiling triumphantly, Frank bowed in graceful acknowledgment.
When the applause was over, he ordered the fly back to the starting point.
"I will next show you that the fly can subtract as well as add," he said. "If any person will name two numbers, Solomon will deduct the lesser from the greater, and then will indicate the number that remains. All ready."
"Twenty-two and nineteen," said the red-faced man, arising so all could see him. "I think I am pretty well known here, and it will be evident that I am in no way connected with this show."
Then he sat down.
Frank gave his orders to the fly, which started out in a rambling way, pausing slightly several times.
"He's gettin' tired," piped a boy.
"This subtraction is too much for him," cried another.
"What do you think about it Solomon?" asked Merriwell, quietly. "Are you going to let them think you're about to throw up the job? Get down to business. Come, come!"
Thus urged, the fly started forward again, creeping directly to the twenty-two.
"That's the first one. Go on."
The fly turned about and crept upward at an angle till it rested on nineteen.
"Now show them how much is left when nineteen is taken from twenty-two."
Upward again at an angle in the opposite direction went the marvelous fly, and it finally stopped on three.
"Nineteen from twenty-two leaves three," called Merry, with satisfaction. "That is right!"
"Hooray!" shouted the red-faced man. "I'm going to start catching flies and teaching them to reckon! There's money in it!"
Next Frank had the fly do a sum in multiplication, following with one in division.
These feats were performed perfectly.
"If some person present will name a word containing not more than four letters, Solomon will spell it out for you," announced Frank.
"Yale."
It was the voice that had called "rats" and "fake."
"Yale it is," said Frank, who was not a little surprised. "Come on, Solomon."
From letter to letter the fly ran, swiftly spelling out the word.
"It is evident to me," said Merry, "that the person who gave that word knows me. I would like to know who the individual is. Will he please come forward?"
No one stirred.
There was a loud buzzing sound, and the fly was seen fluttering about excitedly.
"What is the matter, Solomon?" asked Frank.
"Buz-z-z-z! buz-z-zz!" came from the fly, so loudly that everyone in the theater could hear it.
"Are you trying to talk, Solomon?" laughed Merry.
"Buzz! buzz! buzz!"
"You do not know the name of the person, do you?"
"Buzz! buzz! buz-zz-zz-zz!"
Now the fly was greatly excited. It made short jumps in several directions.
"Don't be trying any of your nonsense," warned the young magician. "If you are fooling me, I shall be offended."
If possible, the insect buzzed louder than before.
"Well, if you know the name of the person, be good enough to spell it out, so I may know who has several times disturbed the performance. Go ahead, Solomon."
Now the spectators lifted themselves in their seats and stared, for the fly fairly darted out on the mirror. As the insect paused on each letter, Frank spelled out the name.
"S-p-o-r-t. That spells 'Sport,' Solomon. Are you making sport of me, or are you giving me a name? Go on. What is the rest of it?"
Away darted the fly, and Frank spelled:
"H-a-r-r-i-s—Harris! Why, that is 'Sport Harris!' A fellow by that name was my worst enemy at Yale College. Do you mean that he is here in this theater?"
Like a flash the wonderful fly spelled one word:
"Yes!"