Modern Magic: A Practical Treatise on the Art of Conjuring

by Professor Hoffmann

The performer begins by borrowing two hats, and places them one on the other, the mouths together, on a chair or table. He then (by palming) produces an orange from the hair or whiskers of a spectator, and places this on another table. He next brings forward and exhibits the vase, filling it as he advances with rice from the paper bag, and thus concealing the orange which is already placed therein. He calls attention to the genuineness of the rice and the simplicity of the cover, and finally putting on the latter, places the vase on the ground, or elsewhere, in view of the audience. He pretends a momentary hesitation as to where to place it, and in the slight interval during which he is making up his mind he presses up the button within the foot. This opens the valve, allowing the rice to escape into the space a, and leaving the orange again uncovered. The audience is, of course, unaware that such a change has taken place.

Leaving the vase for the moment, he requests the audience to choose one or other of the three cones on the table. The choice almost always falls on the middle one (which, it will be remembered, contains the concealed rice). This he places on the top of the upper hat. He next asks the audience to select one or other of the remaining cones, and places this over the orange upon the table, showing by rattling his wand within it that it is hollow throughout, and, if desired, handing round the remaining one for inspection.

At this point we hasten to anticipate an objection which will probably occur to the reader. We have said that the audience, when called upon to choose one of the three cones, almost always select the middle one, and we have proceeded on the assumption that they do so. “But suppose,” says the acute reader, “that they don’t choose the middle one, but select one of the end ones; the trick is spoilt, as neither of the others will produce the rice.” By no means, O acute reader! If we had requested the audience to choose which of the cones should be placed upon the hat, there might have been a little difficulty, no doubt; but we did nothing of the kind. We merely asked them to choose one of the cones. If their first choice falls on one of the end ones, we hand it round for examination, and finally place it over the orange. Then, standing behind the table, we ask the audience to make their choice between the two remaining cones, right or left. Whichever is chosen, we are safe; for as we have already had occasion to explain in connection with the trick of the half-crown in the orange (see page [171]), the right of the audience is our left, and vice versâ, so that by taking their reply in the sense which suits our purpose we are certain to be right. We therefore, in any case, take the cone containing the rice as being the one designated, and place this on the hat, sending round the other for inspection. As the audience have, to all appearance, been allowed perfect freedom of choice, and have actually examined two out of the three cones, they are very unlikely to suspect any preparation about the remaining one.

The trick is now all but complete. Once more the performer raises the cone placed on the hat, to show that there is nothing underneath it; and as he replaces it presses the button, thereby letting the flap fall, and the rice pour out upon the hat, though it remains still concealed by the cone. He next lifts up the cone under which is the orange, and holding the latter up, replaces it, but in again covering it with the cone, makes a feint of removing and slipping it into his pocket. Then noticing, or pretending to notice, a murmur on the part of the company, he says, “Oh, you think I took away the orange, but I assure you I did not.” The company being still incredulous, he again lifts the cone and shows the orange. “Here it is, you see, but as you are so suspicious, I won’t use the cover at all, but leave the orange here in full view on the table.” He again lays the orange on the table, but this time on what is called a “wrist trap.” Leaving it for the moment, he advances to the vase, and holding his hands together cup-fashion over it, but without touching it, he says, “I take out the rice, so, and pass it under this cover” (walking towards the cone on the hat, and making a motion of passing something into it). “Let us see whether it has passed.” He raises the cover, and the rice is seen. “Perhaps you think, as you did not see it, that I did not actually pass the rice from the vase to the cover. At any rate, you will not be able to say the same about the orange. I take it up, before your eyes, so!” He places his hands round it on the table, and at the same moment presses the lever of the trap, which opens, and lets it fall through into the table, closing again instantly. Keeping his hands together, as though containing the orange, he advances to the vase, and holding his hands over it, says, “Here is the orange which has not left your sight even for a single moment. I gently press it, so” (bringing the hands closer and closer together) “and make it smaller and smaller, till it is reduced to an invisible powder, in which state it passes into the vase.” He separates his hands, and shows them empty, and then opening the vase, rolls out the orange, and shows the vase empty, all the rice having disappeared.

The mechanism of the Wrist Trap will be explained in the next Chapter. If the performer does not possess a trap table, he can cause the orange to disappear in the manner referred to at page [337].

Fig. 166.

The Magic Whistle.—The student will not have proceeded far in his magical experience before he meets with an often-recurring nuisance, in the person of some individual, old or young, who knows, or pretends to know, the secret of all his tricks, and whose greatest delight it is, by some mal-à-propos question or suggestion, to cause the performer embarrassment. The magic whistle is specially designed to punish, and, if possible, to silence, an individual of this kind. It is of turned boxwood, and of the shape shown in [Fig. 166], and yields a shrill and piercing note. The performer, bringing it forward and blowing through it, announces that this little whistle, so simple in appearance, has the singular faculty of obeying his will, and of sounding or not sounding at his command alone. The loquacious gentleman is pretty sure to question the fact, or is on some pretence selected to make trial of its truth. The performer places him directly facing the audience, and after himself once more sounding the whistle, hands it to him in order to try his skill. He blows vigorously, but in vain; not a sound can he produce, but his mouth and lips gradually become obscured with a white or black dust. He finally retires to his seat amid the laughter of the audience, and generally much less disposed to make himself prominent during the remainder of the evening.

The secret lies in the fact that there are two whistles—one is a perfectly ordinary instrument, but the other, though similar in appearance, does not sound, but is perforated round the inner side of the head (see the Figure) with a number of small holes. The head unscrews, and is beforehand filled with finely powdered chalk or charcoal, which, when the whistle is blown, is forced through the holes, and settles round the mouth of the victim.

With the present knowledge of the reader, the necessary exchange of the two whistles will not be regarded as offering any difficulty.