The acts followed swiftly after that. Tent Twelve put on a pirate play, Tent Three showed to advantage in a lady-like game of basketball, in which each side begged the other to kindly accept the ball on pain of being slapped on the wrist. Tent Four gave a ventriloquist act, with Peanut Westover as the talking dummy.
“The Mysterious Mandarin Magician,” with an all-star cast from Tents Eight and Ten, was the next to the last number on the evening’s program. At the parting of the curtain, Wild Willie Sanders in a high, battered black silk hat, wearing the curling mustache of a circus ringmaster, pointed out the main attraction to a gaping crowd of boys from the participating tents, dressed in wild garbs of every description. “Laydeez and gen-tul-men! The one and only Chinese magician, brought at great expense from the Flowery Kingdom to mystify you to-night!” Chink Towner, his naturally oriental cast of countenance exaggerated by a line of grease-paint above each slanting eye, and dressed in a pair of colorful silk pajamas borrowed from Councilor Lane, sat cross-legged above the crowd on a blanket-draped table, his features masked in Chinese calm. “Step right up, laydeez and gen-tul-men, and see the one and only!”
Fat Crampton, tittering sweetly, walked by, dressed as a beautiful damsel in a skirt fashioned from Howard Chisel’s spare kitchen apron. The Mysterious Mandarin descended from his throne and expertly drew half-dollars from the hat, sleeve, and nose of the “lady.” He then gave an exhibition of sleight-of-hand, at which he was an adept of no mean skill—making a collection of red balls appear and disappear between his nimble fingers, shaking a flying pack of cards from his fan, collecting the cards in a neat pile and drawing forth at one flip the card desired by any of the nondescript crowd about him.
When he returned to his elevated throne once more, Wild Willie announced that the Mandarin would now display the powers of his X-ray eye. Chink turned his back to the audience, and Happy Face Frayne, one of the judges who would later award the prizes for the best performance of the night, adjusted a bandage over the magician’s eyes to make sure there was no deception. Jake Utway now walked out into the ranks of the audience, and touched a sweater worn by one of the listeners.
“What is the color of the object I am touching, Mandarin?” he called out.
“Blue,” answered the blindfolded Chink promptly.
“Correct. Now what color am I touching?” Jake held up Soapy Mullins’ neckerchief.
“Orange.”
“And now?”
“White.”