Many amusing scenes can be thus contrived, articles of furniture, etc., etc., can be called down from above by simply passing them over the light. Dolls can be used with great effect. The Giant can appear to swallow them—or destroy the pigmy race. Care should be taken to keep the profile on the screen or curtain as distinct as possible. Some call this game “The man in the moon came down too soon.”

THE SHADOW AT COMMAND.

This feat is performed by means of confederacy. Having privately apprised your confederate that when you strike one blow, it signifies the letter A; when you strike two, it means B; and so on for the rest of the alphabet; you state to the company that if any one will walk into the adjoining room, and have the door locked upon him, perhaps the animal may appear which another person may name. In order to deter every one except your confederate from accepting the offer, you announce at the same time that the person who volunteers to be shut up in the room must be possessed of considerable courage, or he had better not undertake it. Having thus gained your end, you give your confederate a lamp, which burns with a very dismal light, telling him, in the hearing of the company, to place it on the middle of the floor, and not to feel alarmed at what he may happen to see. You then usher him into the room, and lock the door. You next take a piece of blank paper and a pencil, and, giving them to one of the party, you tell him to write the name of any animal he wishes to appear to the person shut up in the room. This being done, you receive back the paper, and after showing it around to the company, you fold it up, burn it in the candle or lamp, and throw the ashes into a mortar (an iron one is the best), casting in at the same time a powder, which you state to be possessed of valuable properties. Having taken care to read what was written, you proceed to pound the ashes in the mortar, thus: Suppose the word written be “cat,” you begin by stirring the pestle around the mortar several times, and then strike three distinct blows, loud enough for your confederate to hear, and by which he knows that the first letter of the word is C. You next make some irregular evolutions of the pestle around the mortar, that it may not appear to the company that you give nothing but blows, and then strike one blow for A. Work the pestle about again, and then strike twenty blows, which he will know means T—finishing your manœuvre by working the pestle about the mortar, the object being to make the blows as little remarkable as possible. You then call aloud to your confederate, and ask him what he sees. At first he is to make no reply; after being interrogated several times, he asks if it is not a cat.

That no mistake be made, each party should repeat to himself the letters of the alphabet in the order of the blows. If he misses, you might go over, pretending you had forgotten some word in your incantations, as you can mumble to yourself when pounding. If your confederate is a good mimic, it would add to the amusement of all to mimic the sounds of the animal to appear to him.

I have seen this game differently performed. Your confederate, after any word has been chosen, returns to the room, and you give assurance that by your magical art you can inform him of the word. You then take a cane and draw a large circle, and at the same time repeat any absurd jingle or formula of words; then pretend to call up some ancient spirit, and by your raps on the floor tell your confederate your first letter. Then pretend to draw magical figures, and repeat anything you think of; pretend to listen for an answer; then call up some different spirit, and by your distinct raps express the second letter; and so on until the word is finished. This game can be made very amusing.

THE WIZARD OF THE EAST.

The principal performer attires himself in a robe, a paper cap, spectacles, and other appointments necessary to the outfit of the “Wizard of the East.” He is armed with a magic wand, by means of which he is supposed to exercise his mysterious calling, and with which he makes a circle on the ground, muttering at the same time the unearthly words of some potent spell. After communing profoundly for some moments with some imaginary familiar, he appears to have decided, and touches one of his confederates with his wand, ordering him to go to the other end of the room, and there blindfold his eyes. This order executed, and the audience satisfied that the confederate is really blindfolded, the wizard orders him to guess the person on whom his wand shall rest. The wizard then proceeds to touch several persons lightly with the wand, saying at each, “The wand moves,” and at length allows it to rest on the shoulder of the one who spoke last (the key to the trick), exclaiming, “The wand rests.” The confederate will at once name the person touched (who, also being a confederate, has purposely spoken last). The latter takes the place of the person blindfolded, and the wizard goes through with the same form; his confederate exciting them to talk, he again touches the one who spoke last; the confederate names him correctly, and the person touched is blindfolded in turn. Unless he understands the game, he will have only chance to guide him, and will rarely guess correctly. Those who fail, pay a forfeit. Sometimes one of the confederates takes the place of the wizard, and further mystifies the company. This game, though simple, often puzzles a room full.