EXPLANATION
Anyone not in the secret, perusing the above catalogue, would naturally conclude that the descriptions referred to pictorial art of some kind or other. But such is by no means the case. The visitor, on being admitted, finds, in place of the expected pictures, shelves or tables on which are arranged sundry very commonplace objects, each bearing a numbered ticket. On close examination he finds that the numbers correspond with those in the catalogue, and that No. 1, "Horse Fair"—fare—is represented after a realistic fashion by a handful of oats and a wisp of hay. No. 2, which he expected to find a spirited marine sketch, is in reality only a toothbrush lying beside a jack-plane; while the supposed companion picture, "Caught in a Squall Off Yarmouth," is represented by a red herring. No. 4, "The Last of Poor Dog Tray," is a sausage, and the exhibitor particularly begs that no gentleman will on any account whistle while passing this picture. No. 5, "He Will Return, I Know He Will," presumably the agonized cry of a forsaken maiden, is in reality a poor-rate collector's paper, marked "Fifth application." No. 6 is represented by a numbered ticket only, with no object attached to it. The exhibitor explains that "The Midnight Hour" has not yet arrived, but that any gentleman who likes to wait till it does (which will be at twelve o'clock punctually), is very welcome to do so. The "Heroes of Waterloo," Wellington and Blucher, No. 7, are represented by a couple of boots known by those distinguished names. 8, "True to the Core," is a rosy-cheeked apple. 9 is a coil of watch spring. 10, "Tears, Idle Tears," on which the exhibitor feelingly expatiates as a noble example of the imaginative in art, is an onion. The space dedicated to No. 11 is occupied by the numbered ticket only, the exhibitor explaining that "The Midnight Assassin" (who is stated to be a large and lively flea) has strolled away and is wandering at large about the room; and he adds an entreaty that any lady or gentleman who may meet with him will immediately return him to his place in the collection. "The Dripping Well" (No. 12) proves to be of the description more usually known as a dripping-pan. "Family Jars," by Potter, is found to consist of a pickle jar and jam pot. No. 14, "Never Too Late to Mend," is a boot patched all over; while 15, "Past Healing," is its fellow, too far gone to admit of like renovation. "The First Sorrow" is a broken doll. "Saved" is a money box, containing twopence halfpenny, mostly in farthings. The next is a vacant space, over which the exhibitor passes with the casual remark, "No. 18, as you will observe, is unfortunately lost." No. 19, "First Love," is a piece of taffy. 20, "The Death of the Camel," is a straw, labeled "the last," and the exhibitor explains that this is the identical straw that broke the camel's back. "His First Cigar" is a mild Havana of brown paper. "A Good Fellow Gone" is suggested, rather than represented, by an odd glove. Nos. 23 and 24 are represented by two small mirrors, which are handed to a lady and a gentleman respectively, with a few appropriate remarks as to the extreme success of the likenesses, coupled with critical remarks as to the "expression" in each case. "Our Churchwardens" are a pair of long clay pipes. No. 26, "Portraits of the Reigning Sovereigns of Europe," are represented by a few cancelled foreign postage stamps. "The Monsters of the Deep," in No. 27, are represented by a periwinkle and a shrimp. "The Last Man" (No. 28), is at present missing from his place in the collection, but the exhibitor explains that he will be seen going out just as the exhibition closes. The "Contribution from the Sheepshanks Collection" (29), is a couple of mutton bones; while "The Light of Other Days" (30) is an old-fashioned lantern and tinder box. "The Meet (meat) of Her Majesty's Hounds" is a piece of dog biscuit. No. 32 is a leaky can of water. "The Maiden's Joy" (obviously) is a wedding ring. "The Fall" is a lady's veil. No. 35, "Motherhood," is the gem of the collection, and should be kept carefully hidden (say by a handkerchief thrown over it) until the company have had time to read and appreciate Mr. Caverley's graceful lines, when the veil is removed, and behold—an egg! No. 36, "A Friendly Party on Hampstead Heath," is represented by three toy donkeys. "Borrowed Plumes" are represented by a lady's false front. "Out for the Night" is an extinguished candle. "Something to Adore" is a rusty bolt. "The Wearied Grinder" is a back tooth of somebody's very much the worse for wear. "Repentance" (No. 41) is represented by a smashed hat and a bottle of sodawater. "Maggie's Secret" is a gray hair, labeled "Her First." No. 43, "Somebody's Luggage," consists of a broken comb and a paper collar. "Eusebius" is a pair of spectacles. "Happy Childhood" is indicated by a lithe and "swishy" cane. When the company arrive at No. 46, the corresponding object is apparently missing. The exhibitor refers to his notes and says: "46—46? I see they have written down against No. 46, 'The Exhibitor,' but I don't see quite what they mean. Suppose we pass on to the curiosities, ladies and gentlemen." No. 47 is merely some smashed crockery, and No. 48 a pewter quart pot. No. 49 is again a vacant space, and the exhibitor explains that "The Last of the Mohicans" has just gone home to his tea, and has taken his skull with him. No. 50 is, as its name implies, a group of marbles, of the school boy character. No. 51 is a paper bag of peas, and, being too full, has "bust." "The Puzzle" (No. 52) is an old guide book. "The Instantaneous Kid Reviver" is a baby's feeding bottle; and the "Earnest Entreaty" is the request of the exhibitor that the visitors will recommend the collection to their friends.
If the "showman" be possessed of a good fund of talk and a dash of dry humor, the fun of the collection may be still further enhanced by his explanations and criticisms of the various objects. Poor Artemus Ward's celebrated lecture is an excellent model to copy; indeed, many of his "bits" may be stolen bodily with very satisfactory result. Even without the aid of a showman, the comparison of the poetical descriptions and the sober reality will produce a good deal of fun; but, in this case, the various blanks or vacant spaces to be filled up by explanation must necessarily be omitted—a good many telling items being thereby sacrificed.
CHAPTER XI.
OPTICAL ILLUSIONS
RAISING THE GHOST—MAGIC LANTERN PICTURES—PHANTASMAGORIA—CHINESE SHADOWS—WONDERFUL MIRROR—MULTIPLIED MONEY
RAISING A GHOST
Place a small magic lantern in a box large enough to contain a small swing dressing-glass, which will reflect the light thrown on it by the lantern in such a way that it will pass out at the aperture made at the top of the box, which aperture should be oval and of a size adapted to the cone of light to pass through it. There should be a flap with hinges, to cover the opening, that the inside of the box may not be seen. There must be holes in that part of the box which is over the lantern, to let out the smoke; and over this must be placed a chafing-dish, of an oblong figure, large enough to hold several lighted coals. This chafing-dish, for the better carrying on the deception, may be inclosed in a painted tin box, about a foot high, with a hole at top, and should stand on four feet, to let the smoke of the lantern escape. There must also be a glass planned to move up and down in the groove, and so managed by a cord and pulley that it may be raised up and let down by the cord coming through the outside of the box. On this glass the spectre (or any other figure you please) must be painted, in a contracted or squat form, as the figure will reflect a greater length than it is drawn. When you have lighted the lamp in the lantern and placed the mirror in a proper direction, put the box on a table, and, setting the chafing-dish in it, throw some incense in powder on the coals. You then open the trap door and let down the glass in the groove slowly, and when you perceive the smoke diminish, draw up the glass, that the figure may disappear, and shut the trap-door. This exhibition will afford much wonder. The lights in the room must be extinguished, and the box should be placed on a high table, that the aperture through which the light comes out may not be seen.
A MAGIC-LANTERN TRICK
The light of the magic-lantern and the color of images may not only be painted on a cloth, but also reflected by a cloud of smoke. Provide a box of wood or pasteboard, about four feet high and seven or eight inches square at bottom, but diminishing as it ascends, so that its aperture at the top be but six inches long and half an inch wide. At the bottom of this box there must be a door that shuts quite close, by which you are to place in the box a chafing-dish with hot coals, on which is to be thrown incense, whose smoke goes out in a cloud at the top of the box; on this cloud you are to throw the light that comes out of the lantern, and which you bring into a smaller compass by drawing out the movable tube. In this representation, the motion of the smoke does not at all change the figures, which appear so conspicuous that the spectator thinks he can grasp them with his hand. In the experiment, some of the rays passing through the smoke, the representation will be much less vivid than on the cloth; and if care be not taken to reduce the light to its smallest focus, it will be still more imperfect.