“One can likewise whisper to the gentleman in the auditorium the name of an international opera, operetta or international song. The thought flies like lightning, and the lady sings what is wanted, instantly accompanying herself on the piano.
“The secret of this trick is as follows: When the curtain rises, the master of ceremonies walks to the front of the stage and in a pleasing voice begins: ‘Ladies and gentlemen—I have the pleasure of introducing to you, etc., etc. I will call your attention to the fact that the spectators must confine their whispered wishes to international celebrities, names of well-known personages, songs and operas of international fame,’ etc.
“This limitation of choice is the key to the performance. They have lists of these ‘international celebrities,’ rulers, statesmen, diplomats, great writers and musical composers; songs of world-wide reputation, popular selections from the operas, etc. And the secret of the evening is that all of these carefully selected names, titles, etc., are numbered, as in the following examples:
- STATESMEN AND RULERS.
- 1. Bismarck.
- 2. King Humbert of Italy.
- 3. Napoleon Bonaparte.
- 4. King Edward VII.
- 5. Paul Kruger.
- 120. Lincoln.
- POPULAR SONGS.
- 1. “Home, Sweet Home.”
- 2. “Last Rose of Summer.”
- 3. “Marseillaise.”
- 4. “The Jewel Song in Faust.”
- 5. “Walter’s Prize Song.”
- 101. “Comin’ Thro’ the Rye.” {195}
- OPERAS.
- 1. “Faust.”
- 2. “Lohengrin.”
- 3. “Bohemian Girl.”
- 4. “Lucia di Lammermoor.”
- 5. “Carmen.”
- 120. “Trovatore.”
- GREAT WRITERS.
- 1. Thackeray.
- 2. Victor Hugo.
- 3. Dickens.
- 4. George Eliot.
- 5. Shakespeare.
- 101. Dante.
HOW THE SIGNALS ARE CONCEALED.
“The manager reiterates that if only names of international reputation are given the responses will be correct nine hundred and ninety-nine times in a thousand. Then he descends from the stage, and, smiling right and left, inclines his ear to catch the whispered wishes as he moves slowly up the aisle, generally with his back to the stage. An auditor whispers to him, ‘Bismarck.’
“Herr Svengali, gesticulating freely but naturally, pressing his eyes with his fingers for an instant as if going into a momentary trance—only a second or two, just enough to impress the audience—then thrusts a hand into the air, wipes the moisture from his face with his handkerchief or leans toward a spectator, seeking his attention, when a voice from the stage says, ‘Bismarck.’
“ ‘Right,’ responds the man who whispered that illustrious name. Then there is a craning of necks and crushing of programmes, all eyes fixed on the stage, where the impersonator, standing before a cabinet of costume pigeonholes, with the aid of an assistant has donned wig and uniform in his lightning change and whirls around disguised as Bismarck, while the girl at the piano plays ‘The Watch on the Rhine.’ It is all the work of a few seconds and makes a great impression upon the spectator.
“The next man calls for an opera air, ‘Bohemian Girl,’ and the piano plays ‘I Dreamt That I Dwelt in Marble Halls,’ etc. Another man suggests the magic name ‘Sheridan.’ It is echoed aloud from the stage, while the audience applauds and the girl plays ‘The Star Spangled Banner.’
“The few experts present pay little attention to the stage. Their eyes are fixed on the man Svengali in the aisle, noting every move he makes. It is observed that his numerous gestures, his frequent use of his handkerchief, the pressure of his {196} fingers on his eyes, as if to hypnotize his assistant on the stage, are natural movements, attracting no attention, yet necessary to hide the vital signals in the cipher code of the show.