“That’s right,” the magician answered. “If I can’t grow a Bramble Bush and scratch my eyes out in it I’m not the real Bramble Bush Man.”
“Gee! He can’t really scratch his eyes out!” Tommy exclaimed.
“He can so,” said Mary who had come down from the stage and squeezed in the chair between Muffs and Tommy. “He can do anything!”
“Can he, Mother?” Muffs asked.
“Yes, dear,” she replied. “I think he can.”
The children were growing more excited now. They were standing up in their chairs and calling when, all at once, everything became quiet. The magician was saying his magic words and slowly, slowly, out of the flower pot a real bramble bush spread its branches. It was bigger than the rose bush and taller than the lily and it was covered with berries which the Bramble Bush Man passed around for the children to taste. All the time they kept watching him, wondering if he really meant to scratch out his eyes.
They had not long to wonder. Soon the berries were gone from the bush and the magician stood beside it again.
“Hokus! Mokus! Pokus!” he said in a mysterious voice. Then he gave one leap and the bush seemed to leap toward him. The vase was empty once more and the Bramble Bush Man was caught in a tangle of briars. Laughter and squeals filled the room while he struggled to free himself and then—it happened! He hadn’t any eyes.
“Don’t worry, folks,” he said cheerfully. “All I need to do is grow another bush and scratch them in again.”
The audience was clapping now. Clap! Clap! Clap! went a hundred pair of hands. Perhaps some of them guessed that the magician had only closed his eyes so tightly that they appeared not to be there. Whether they did or not, they knew it was the trick they had been waiting for. None of them expected the surprise.