Modern Magic: A Practical Treatise on the Art of Conjuring

by Professor Hoffmann

The Cake (or Pudding) in the Hat.—This is an old and favourite hat trick. The necessary apparatus consists of two parts—first, a round tin pan a (see [Fig. 149]), four inches in depth, and tapering from five inches at its greatest to four and a half inches at its smallest diameter. It is open at each end, but is divided into two parts by a horizontal partition at about two-thirds of its depth. Second, a larger tin b, japanned to taste, five and a half inches in depth, and so shaped as to fit somewhat tightly over the smaller tin. In the larger end of the latter is placed a hot cake or pudding, and in this condition it is placed on the servante of the table, projecting a little over the edge. The performer borrows a hat, and in passing behind his table, tips cake and tin together into it. The chances are that the tin will fall small end upwards (the opposite end being the heaviest); but if not, the performer turns the tin, so as to bring it into that position. Placing the hat mouth upwards upon the table, he announces his intention of making a cake in it; for which purpose he takes, one by one, and mixes in the tin b, a quantity of flour, raisins, eggs, sugar, and the other ingredients for a cake, adding water enough to make the mixture into a thick batter. This he pours into the hat, holding the tin with both hands, at first high above it, but gradually bringing it lower and lower, till at last, as if draining the last drop of the mixture, he lowers the mouth of the tin right into the hat, and brings it well down over the smaller tin. On being again raised, it brings away within it the smaller tin and its liquid contents, the cake being left in the hat. He next proceeds to bake the cake, by moving the hat backwards and forwards at a short distance over the flame of a candle, and, after a sufficient interval, exhibits the result, which is cut up and handed round to the company for their approval.

As the batter round the sides of b is apt to cause a to stick pretty tightly into it, a folding ring is generally fixed inside a, in order to facilitate its removal after the close of the trick.

The Welsh Rabbit.—This is a trick of a comic character, and in the hands of a spirited performer is sure to be received with applause, particularly by the younger members of the audience. Its effect is as follows:—The performer brings in in one hand a saucepan, fancifully decorated, and in the other a plate, with bread, cheese, pepper, etc. With these ingredients he proposes to make a Welsh Rabbit, and to give the audience, without extra charge, a lesson in cookery. Chopping the bread and cheese together in a burlesque fashion, and seasoning with pepper and salt to a degree which no palate short of a salamander’s could possibly stand, he shovels all into the saucepan, and claps the lid on. For a moment he is at a loss for a fire, but this difficulty is quickly conquered. Borrowing a gentleman’s hat, and a lady’s pocket-handkerchief, he requests permission to use them for the purpose of the experiment. This is readily accorded, but the respective owners look on with consternation when the performer proceeds to set fire to the handkerchief, and, dropping it still blazing into the hat, to cook the Welsh Rabbit by moving the saucepan to and fro over the flames. Having done this for a minute or two, he extinguishes the flames by lowering the saucepan for a moment into the hat. Then again removing it, and taking off the lid, he brings it forward to the company, and exhibits, not the expected Welsh Rabbit, or “rare-bit,” but a genuine live rabbit, every vestige of the cheese and other ingredients having disappeared.

Fig. 150.

The secret of this ingenious trick lies mainly in the construction of the saucepan, which consists of four parts, designated in the diagram ([Fig. 150]) by the letters a, b, c, and d; a is the lid, which has no speciality, save that the rim round it is rather deeper than usual; b is a shallow tray or lining, of the same depth as the lid, fitting easily within the top of the saucepan; a, on the contrary, fits tightly within b; c is the body of the saucepan, and has no speciality; d is an outer sheet or covering, loosely fitting the lower part of the saucepan, and, like it, is japanned plain black, the upper part and lid being generally of an ornamental pattern. (For our own part, we much prefer either plain black or polished tin throughout, as savouring less of mechanism or preparation.) The presence or absence of d does not alter the general appearance of the saucepan, and cannot, therefore, be detected by the eye. It should be mentioned that d is so made, that between its bottom and the bottom of the saucepan is a space of about half an inch in depth, and in this space, before the apparatus is brought forward, is placed a substitute handkerchief, sprinkled with a few drops of spirits of wine or eau de Cologne, to render it more inflammable; within the saucepan is placed a small live rabbit, after which b is put in its place, and pressed down.

Fig. 151.

The performer is now ready to begin the trick. He brings forward the saucepan, holding it as in [Fig. 151], in which position the pressure of the first and second fingers on d prevents it falling off, as, being loose, it would otherwise do. Placing it on the table, he mixes the bread, cheese, etc., on the plate, and then pours all into the saucepan, where, of course, they fall into b. As b is comparatively shallow, it is well to place the saucepan in some tolerably elevated situation, so that the audience may not be able to see into it, or they may perceive that the bread, etc., do not fall to the bottom. The lid is next placed on the saucepan. The hat and handkerchief are borrowed, the latter, which is to serve as fuel, being dropped into the hat. The performer, as if bethinking himself of a possible difficulty, carelessly remarks, “We mustn’t have the stove too small for the saucepan;” and so saying, lifts the latter, as shown in [Fig. 151], and lowers it for a moment into the hat, as though testing their relative sizes. In that moment, however, he relaxes the pressure of his fingers on d, and so leaves it within the hat, placing the saucepan on the table beside it. When he again takes out the (supposed) handkerchief, and sets light to it, it is, of course, the substitute that is actually burnt, the genuine handkerchief meanwhile remaining hidden beneath d in the crown. The effect of the flames rising from the hat, in which the audience cannot suppose any preparation, is very startling, and yet, unless the substitute handkerchief is unusually large, or the spirit has been applied with a too liberal hand, there is no real danger of injuring the hat. The performer moves about the saucepan above the blaze at such a distance as not to inconvenience the animal within, and, after a moment or two, brings the saucepan sharply down into the hat, for the ostensible purpose of extinguishing the flames, but in again lifting it out he brings with it d, and places all together on the table. Nothing is now left in the hat but the borrowed handkerchief, which may be restored in any manner which the performer’s fancy may suggest. When the lid of the saucepan is removed, as it fits more tightly within b than the latter fits within the saucepan, it naturally carries b with it, thus causing the disappearance of the bread, cheese, etc., and revealing in its place the live rabbit.

Some fun may be created by selecting beforehand an assistant from the juvenile portion of the audience, and dressing him up with a pocket-handkerchief round his head, and another by way of apron, to act as assistant cook.