De Biere and Stillwell are conjurers who are fast rising into prominence. Stillwell is a handkerchief manipulator.
Next in line we have Malini, Fred Hurd, Hal Merton and Maro, all of them clever magicians. Hurd’s rabbit and duck trick has to be seen to be appreciated. Maro is not only an excellent illusionist, but a musician and a crayon artist. Merton, a favorite in the lyceum field, was at one time the editor of “Mahatma.” Malini’s forte is cards, and he devotes most of his time to giving drawing-room and club entertainments. Of late years he has made London his home. Among the clever amateurs I have met may be mentioned Mr. Guy L. Baker, of Buffalo, N. Y., and Mr. LeRoy McCafferty and Mr. John J. Allen, of Washington, D. C. Mr. Baker is an excellent drawing-room conjurer and the originator of a novel method of working the rising card trick à la de Kolta, by means of a clockwork apparatus in the body of a small table. Mr. McCafferty is good at hanky-panky, particularly with billiard balls; and Mr. Allen, an ardent student of the art of deception, bids fair to become a good entertainer.
Ere I bring this chapter to a close I must not neglect to pay a tribute to my old-time friend, Dr. Leonard Caughey, of Baltimore, Md., the finest amateur conjurer, rope-tying and cabinet medium I have ever met. A dentist by profession, he devoted his leisure time to magic. He died some fifteen years ago in Washington, D. C. His cousin, Mr. Charles M. Caughey, also an amateur prestidigitateur, is at present United States Consul to Palermo, Sicily, the birthplace of Cagliostro. From Dr. Caughey I received my first scientific instruction in the art of palming and mediumistic marvels. I owe him a debt of gratitude. In my little book “Hours With the Ghosts” I have described some of my adventures with this admirable amateur necromancer, who has passed from the lesser to the Greater Mysteries. Long before Professor Hoffmann had written his great treatise on “Modern Magic,” Dr. Caughey was thoroughly initiated into all branches of magic, something unusual in those days, and was giving splendid entertainments for churches, lyceums, etc. A fine mechanic, he made most of his apparatus, some of it of a very elaborate character. I imported Hoffmann’s {317} book from England and showed it to him. He was paralyzed with astonishment at the revelations contained in the volume and exclaimed, “The golden days of magic are over. The Götterdämmerung (Twilight of the Gods) has come! The world will be as full of magicians as the Jersey coast is of mosquitoes. The palmy days of Herrmann, Houdin and Heller are ended.” His prophecy has been more or less fulfilled. The vail of Isis is lifted and the mysteries of magic laid open to all who care to delve in its literature and inform themselves. Alas, unscrupulous professionals have contributed to this state of things by exposing tricks on the stage for the benefit of the public at large. This is indeed killing outright the goose that lays the golden eggs. Initiate the hoi polloi into the secrets of the cult, and magic will soon be relegated to the parlor as an after-dinner amusement, unless some absolutely original genius like Robert-Houdin or de Kolta arises and recreates the art. The Society of British Magicians, known as “The Magic Circle of Great Britain,” expels a member who wilfully exposes any magical trick or illusion on the stage. The Society of American Magicians comes out strongly against the reprehensible practice of stage exposés, but as yet has taken no steps to expel members who offend against the law. But that will doubtless come in time.
THE RIDDLE OF THE SPHINX.
“Thus they placed Sphinxes before the gates of their temples, meaning by that to say that their theology contained all the secrets of wisdom under an enigmatic form.”—MARIETTE: Voyage dans la Haute-Egypt, Vol. II, p. 9.
I.
What is the meaning of this Egyptian Temple, transplanted from the banks of the Nile to prosaic London? The smoke and grime have attacked it and played sad havoc with its sandstone walls, painted with many hieroglyphics. The fog envelops it with a spectral embrace. No Sphinxes guard its portal. Alas, its glories have departed! But stop a bit! There is a gentleman in evening dress, with a tall hat pushed well back from his forehead, sitting in a small box-like receptacle on one side of the colossal entrance, his face framed in by a small window; and another man, similarly attired, standing at an iron wicket leading into the sanctum sanctorum. The temple, then, is guarded by two up-to-date, flesh-and-blood Sphinxes in swallow-tail coats and opera hats. Ah me, what a travesty on the human-headed monsters of the land of Mizraim. See the long line of worshipers waiting to obtain admission to the Mysteries. Has the cult of Isis and Osiris been revived? The devotees deposit coins with Sphinx No. 1 and receive from him yellow tickets in exchange, the presentation of which to Sphinx No. 2 permits their entrance into the temple.
What does it all mean?
Dear reader, this is Egyptian Hall, Piccadilly, London, and the people are crowding to see a conjuring exhibition by Colonel Stodare. His Sphinx trick is the great attraction.
Stodare is dust long ago, and the Sphinx no longer a mystery. Its riddle has been solved. {319}