Modern Magic: A Practical Treatise on the Art of Conjuring

by Professor Hoffmann

The Handkerchief cut up, burnt, and finally found in a Candle.—We have already described one or two modes in which a handkerchief, after being apparently cut up, or burnt, may be reproduced in its original condition. This is another and very effective form of the same trick.

Having borrowed a white handkerchief, you exchange it, by one or other of the means already described, for a substitute of similar appearance, and place the latter on the table. You then remember that, as you are about to burn the handkerchief, you will want a candle. You call to your attendant, but he, previously instructed, does not answer, and after a momentary pause you determine to fetch it yourself. You have, however, no sooner left the stage, than you meet the defaulter, and angrily remarking, in a stage whisper, so that the audience may hear, that he is never at hand when you want him, or making some similar observation, you order him to bring a lighted candle. Your absence is only momentary, but it has enabled you to throw him the real handkerchief, which he forthwith rolls up, and places inside a candle made hollow for the purpose; which he then places in a candlestick, lights, and brings on the stage. You have meanwhile taken up the substitute handkerchief, and advanced to the audience, getting ready the while in your palm a small piece of cambric, about six inches in diameter. Taking the handkerchief by the centre, in the same hand, you pull out between the first finger and thumb a portion of the piece of cambric, which is naturally taken to be a part of the handkerchief. Handing to one of the spectators a pair of scissors, you request him to cut off a small portion of the handkerchief. He cuts off a piece of the cambric. Holding this piece in the one hand, and taking the remainder, with the substitute handkerchief hanging down below it, in the other, you offer to teach the company your patent method of mending handkerchiefs, requiring neither thimble, needle, nor thread. Applying the cut edges to the candle, you set them on fire, rubbing them together. Finally, blowing out the flame, and throwing the handkerchief over the hand that holds the pieces, you palm them, and immediately afterwards show the handkerchief (i.e., the substitute) completely restored.

The mode of procedure so far is pretty well known, and it is highly probable that one or more of the audience will be acquainted with it. Accordingly, you may safely expect to perceive in some quarter or other, knowing glances, or confidential communications as to “how it’s done.” Noticing, or pretending to notice this, you say, “Ah, I see there is a gentleman there who thinks he has found me out. You fancy, no doubt, sir, that I have performed this trick in the old fashion, by cutting a piece of cambric which does not form part of the handkerchief. Why, my dear sir, the trick in that form is as old as—your grandmother. But it is my own fault; I quite forgot to show you that the handkerchief was really cut. It is my rule never to perform the same trick twice over, but I feel so hurt at your unkind suspicion that I must break my rule for once, and this time you shall cut the handkerchief yourself.” You offer him the scissors, and holding up the handkerchief (which the audience naturally believe to be the genuine one) by the middle, you allow him to cut a piece fairly out of it, immediately afterwards spreading it out, and showing that a large hole is made in the centre. Again, you hold the edges to the candle, but this time, as if by accident, you let the flames fairly catch hold of the handkerchief, which you are compelled to drop upon a plate or tray, and to let it burn itself out. For a moment, you feign to be embarrassed, and the audience are half inclined to believe that you have made a mistake, and your trick has failed; but you quickly recover your confidence, and remark, “This is not precisely what I intended, ladies and gentlemen. I am afraid I have made a little mistake, but fortunately it is easily remedied. The fact is, I forgot to pronounce the magic word at the right moment, and the handkerchief has in consequence stopped short at the first stage of transmigration. To make it pass into the second stage, that of renewed existence, I must again employ the agency of fire. See, I place the ashes in my magic pistol, and ram them down with the mystic wand. Now what shall I aim at? Ah! the candle on the table! A capital mark, and as it has been before you throughout the trick, you know that it cannot have undergone any preparation.” (You fire, aiming at the candle.) “Did you see it pass? No. It has done so, nevertheless; but I must have put in a little too much powder, for it has gone right into the candle.” (You bring the candle forward.) “Will some one oblige me by seeing if it is really in the candle.” The candle is broken in half, and the handkerchief is found embedded therein.

The candle used for the purpose of the above trick is sometimes a genuine wax or composite candle, but more often a mere pasteboard tube, previously cut half asunder in the middle (so as to break without difficulty), and then covered with glazed white paper, in imitation of a candle, a genuine candle-end being inserted at the top. If a candle of this latter description is used, the performer must himself break it, as a spectator doing so would at once discover that it was a prepared article.

Before quitting the subject of handkerchiefs burnt and restored, we may mention a little appliance called the “handkerchief table,” which is designed for this purpose. It is precisely the same in make and operation as the table or tripod, described at page [139], for burning and restoring a card, but a little larger. To those acquainted with the card tripod, the use and effect of the handkerchief table will be sufficiently obvious, without any special explanation.

The Shower of Sweets.—This is a trick which is sure to be well received by a juvenile audience. The performer comes forward with an ordinary plate or salver, which he hands for examination, and then places on the table. He next borrows a handkerchief. Laying it flat over the plate, he lifts it up by nipping the middle with his finger and thumb, letting the four corners hang down. He then strokes down the handkerchief with the other hand, under the pretence of mesmerising it, when a shower of burnt almonds, chocolate creams, acidulated drops, etc., pours down upon the plate. Again he strokes the handkerchief, and again the shower pours down; and the plate, being by this time full, is handed round to the company to prove that in the quality of the sweets, at any rate, there is “no deception.”

The secret lies in the use of a small bag, of cambric or fine calico, shaped like an inverted letter V. The edges are turned in at the mouth, and through each hem is passed a straight piece of watch-spring or whalebone, one a little longer than the other. The natural tendency of these is to lie side by side, keeping the mouth of the bag closed; but if pressure be simultaneously applied to both ends of the springs, the longer one assumes the shape of a semicircle, thereby opening the bag. Through the opposite end of the bag is passed a pointed wire hook. The bag is beforehand filled with nuts or bonbons, and hung by the hook to the edge of the table on the side away from the spectators. Though the bag is mouth downwards, the action of the spring keeps it closed, and nothing can fall out. When the operator, standing behind the table, draws the handkerchief over the plate, he allows a portion of the hinder edge to hang over the edge of the table nearest to himself. When he picks up the handkerchief, which he does with his finger and thumb, he takes hold, through the handkerchief, of the upper part of the bag. The bag is thus lifted up within the handkerchief, but is concealed by the folds of the latter hanging down around it. The movement of the hand in stroking down the handkerchief presses the springs, and the bag opens, again closing as soon as the pressure is relaxed. When all the contents have fallen, the performer drops the handkerchief, bag and all, on the table, while he advances to the audience with the results of the trick, and, on again picking up the handkerchief, lets fall the empty bag upon the servante, or slips it into his pocket.

Fig. 109. Fig. 110.

It will be observed that, in the form of the trick above described, the use of both hands is necessary—one to hold the handkerchief, while the other, stroking it down, presses the springs, and causes the bag to open. There is an improved form of the bag, used, and, we believe, invented by Robert-Houdin, which enables the performer, holding the handkerchief at arm’s length, to perform the trick by mere word of command, without using the left hand at all. The bag is in this case of the form shown in [Fig. 109]. No springs are used, but the bag, when filled, is closed by folding down the flap, and hooking the little ring over the hook, the bag thereby assuming the appearance shown in [Fig. 110]. It is picked up within the handkerchief as described in the case of the spring bag; but when it is desired to produce the sweets, a slight inclination of the hook to the left (effected by a barely perceptible movement of the thumb and finger) causes the ring to slip off and the flap to fall down, as in [Fig. 109], releasing the whole contents of the bag.