“In order to exclude all possibility of sleight-of-hand, we will now thoroughly shuffle the cards; after which, for still greater certainty, I will show you that the card is neither at top nor bottom, whence you may be persuaded that it is placed just where chance has chosen to put it.” (For the purpose of showing that the card is neither at top nor bottom, it may either be left second from the top after the shuffle, if executed by the performer himself, or being actually placed on the top, the second card may be drawn instead of the first by means of a filage.)
“Will some gentleman now have the kindness to empty his breast-pocket, and allow me to place the pack in it.” (This is done.) “Now that the cards are placed in perfect darkness, I will endeavour, by virtue of that five-fold sensibility of touch which I have just mentioned, to discover, by the aid of my fingers only, the card which this lady drew. To make my task still more difficult, I will undertake to draw the card at such number as you yourselves may choose. What number shall it be?” (We will suppose that the reply is “Seventh.”) “Seventh, be it so. Then six times in succession I must avoid taking the drawn card, and produce it on the seventh occasion only. One, two, three, four, five, six.” (He exhibits six cards one by one, taking them from the bottom of the pack.) “Now to find the lady’s card! Yes, I think I have it. Before taking it out, I will read it with my little finger, which is the cleverest of the five. Yes! It is not a small card; it is not a club, nor a spade, nor yet a diamond. It is the king of ——” (He draws out the card, and places it face downwards.) “Will you be good enough, madam, to finish naming the card before I turn it over, and we shall see whether my little finger has been correct in its assertions.” (The lady names the king of hearts, which the performer forthwith turns up.) “My little finger was right, you see. Will you be good enough, sir, to take the remainder of the cards out of your pocket, and testify that the experiment has really been performed exactly as I have stated.”
The above example will show how, by the exercise of a little tact and ingenuity, a simple piece of parlour magic may be elevated to the dignity of a stage trick. The great secret is the directing of the minds of the audience into such a channel, that the dénouement for the moment seems to be a natural result of the causes artfully suggested by the performer. This may, to a considerable extent, be effected, as in the example above given, by the language and gesture of the performer in the individual trick; but still more may be done by the artistic grouping of one trick with another, a comparatively simple feat being employed to prepare the minds of the spectators for the greater marvel to follow. Thus, in the recent performances of the Fakir of Oolu, the aërial suspension, which formed the staple of his programme, was preceded by the exhibition of a wooden rod or wand which (by means of certain projecting wire points, so minute as to be imperceptible at a very short distance), was made to defy the laws of gravity by clinging to his finger-tips in various positions without visible support. This minor illusion, being somewhat similar in effect (though wholly different as to the means employed), prepared the minds of the audience to receive the greater marvel of a living woman made to recline in mid-air. In like manner, the trick of the “Flying Money” (see page [172]) forms an apt preparation for the introduction of the “Crystal Cash-box” (page [487]). The series of tricks described under the title of the “Birth of Flowers” (page [411]), affords another instance of the artistic combination of two or three different tricks in such manner as to enhance the effect of the whole; but, in truth, examples might be multiplied ad infinitum. In arranging an entertainment, the performer should continually bear this principle in mind. The programme should consist not of a number of absolutely unconnected tricks, but of a series of ten or a dozen groups of tricks. As compared with each other, the groups should have as much diversity as possible; but, individually, each should consist of the same or a similar effect repeated in a more and more striking form (though produced by different means), or else of a string of tricks united by some natural sequence, as in the case of the production of the two rabbits from the hat, followed by the rolling of the one into the other, and terminating with the reproduction of the vanished animal in another quarter. In order to make our meaning clearer, we subjoin a specimen working programme, arranged on the principles we have stated.
Programme (for performer’s own use).
1. Vanishing gloves ([page 325]). Transformed handkerchief ([page 246]). Handkerchief ultimately found in candle ([page 249]).
2. Borrowed half-crown, changed to penny, and back again ([page 161]); made to pass into centre of two oranges in succession ([page 170]). Three more half-crowns borrowed, and all four made to pass invisibly from performer’s hand to goblet at a distance ([page 200]), and finally into crystal cash-box ([page 487]).
3. Shower of sweets produced from borrowed handkerchief ([page 251]), followed by bird-cages ([page 311]). Then bowls of gold-fish from shawl ([page 371]).
4. Eggs produced from mouth of assistant ([page 329]). Wizard’s omelet ([page 398]). Dove wrapped in paper, and vanished ([page 452]).
5. Chosen card picked out of pack placed in a spectator’s pocket ([page 106]). Chosen card caught on sword ([page 121]). The rising cards ([page 125]).
6. Borrowed watch, made to bend backwards and forwards ([page 214]). Made to strike the hour as a repeater ([page 222]). Placed in pistol, and fired at target ([page 220]).
7. The Chinese rings ([page 401]).
8. Rabbits produced from borrowed hat; one rolled into the other, and subsequently found in bran-glass ([page 452]). Multiplying balls and cannon-balls produced from hat ([page 304]).
9. Inexhaustible box ([page 391]), producing toys, reticules ([page 309]), and finally Chinese lanterns ([page 395]).
The above, with proper mise en scène, will be found an ample programme for a two hours’ entertainment. It is hardly necessary to observe that the programme of the same entertainment for distribution among the audience would be of a very different character. This is always drawn up in the vaguest possible terms, so as not to reveal beforehand the actual effect of the different tricks. Thus the tricks in question would be described somewhat as follows:—
Programme (for distribution).
1. The Enchanted Handkerchief.
2. The Flying Coins.
3. A Succession of Surprises.
4. The Fairy Omelet.
5. The Cabalistic Cards.
6. The Mesmerised Watch.
7. The Chinese Rings.
8. The Bewitched Hat.
9. The Feast of Lanterns.
Between each of the items above-mentioned, there should be an interval of one or two minutes (filled up by music), while the operator leaves the stage, and makes the necessary preparation for the next trick. It will further be found an advantage, where practicable, to divide the entertainment into two parts, with an interval of ten minutes or so between them, the curtain being let down during such interval. The few minutes’ break is always acceptable to the audience (who are apt to become fatigued by too long protracted attention), and is especially valuable to the performer, as enabling him to re-arrange his servante, removing articles that have served their purpose, and replacing them by such as may be needed for the tricks to come. An overcrowded servante is a fertile source of annoyance and failure, as an article accidentally falling from it reveals the existence of a receptacle behind the table, and thereby deprives the performance of half its effect. When a re-arrangement of the servante between the parts of the performance is impracticable, it is well, if any tricks involving the production of articles from this quarter are included in the programme, to introduce such tricks as early as possible, so that the servante may be relieved of such articles, and left clear for its second use of getting rid of articles upon it. We have known a professor, performing the “flying glass of water” trick, and in placing the glass on the servante, knock down a cannon-ball, placed there to be introduced, later on, into a hat. That cannon-ball weighed on the professor’s mind for the rest of the evening, and the performance was practically spoilt.
Having arranged his programme, and the appropriate “patter” for each group of tricks, the performer should conclude his practice by a series of three or four “dress rehearsals,” with an intelligent friend to play the part of audience, and who should be invited to criticise with the utmost freedom. At these rehearsals there should be no “make believe,” but each trick should be worked throughout with the same completeness in every particular with which it is afterwards to be exhibited in public. In the course of these final rehearsals the performer should tax his invention to see what amount of “incidents,” or byplay, he can introduce in the course of the different tricks. Thus at the commencement of his entertainment, the trick of the “Flower in the Button-hole,” or that of the “Vanishing Gloves” may be introduced—not professedly as an item of the programme, but as a little preliminary flourish. Again, if the performer has occasion for an egg or lemon in the course of a trick, it greatly enhances the effect, if instead of having the necessary article brought in by his assistant, he produces it himself from a lady’s muff, or from the whiskers of a male spectator. These little matters, though small in themselves, tend to keep alive the attention of the audience, and to create a sort of magical atmosphere, which will aid materially in disposing the spectators to receive with due respect the occult pretensions of the performer.
With respect to stage arrangements, the professional, performing evening after evening, with full provision of stage appliances, will quickly learn by experience how best to arrange those appliances for the purpose of his entertainment; but the amateur, performing only occasionally, and in places not specially adapted for magical purposes, may be glad of some little practical counsel in this particular.