Modern Magic: A Practical Treatise on the Art of Conjuring

by Professor Hoffmann

The improvement to which we have alluded consists in the use of six balls, three red and three black. The red balls having been first threaded on the tapes, and the two ends having been crossed and returned to the holders in manner already described, the black balls are in turn threaded on the tapes at either end, and the performer, holding the hat beneath, and addressing one of the persons who hold the tapes, says, “Which will you have, sir, the red balls or the black?” Whichever the answer, the result is the same, for the red balls only can come off the tapes, the black remaining still upon them; but in either case the performer is able to satisfy the choice which has been made. If the red balls have been chosen, he says on their falling, “You chose the red, I think. You see that your commands are at once obeyed.” If, on the other hand, the black are chosen, the performer says, “You prefer the black? Then I will take the red,” which he does accordingly. The audience, having heard the choice freely offered, and not being aware of the subterfuge by which the implied undertaking is fulfilled, naturally believe that the performer was able to take off or leave on the tape whichever group of balls he pleased.

The “Bonus Genius,” or Vanishing Doll.—While upon the subject of old-fashioned tricks, we may briefly notice that known under the name of the Bonus Genius, which has puzzled many generations of our forefathers, and, though now rarely exhibited by professional performers, is still a great favourite with juvenile audiences. The Bonus Genius is a little wooden figure of a man, four to six inches in height, and more or less grotesque in colour and design. A little cloak, made small above and full below, like the skirt of a doll’s dress, and with no opening save where the head of the figure passes through, completes the apparatus. There are, however, two points about the doll and his cloak which are unknown to the spectators. First, the head of the doll is moveable, a wooden peg forming the neck, and fitting, somewhat tightly, into a corresponding hole in the body; secondly, there is stitched on the inside of the cloak, just below the opening for the neck, a little pocket, of the description known among tailors as a “patch” pocket, and of such a size as to contain the head easily. The performer, holding up the figure, and introducing it to the company as his flying messenger, warranted to outstrip the electric telegraph, covers it with the cloak, so that nothing but the head is seen. Grasping the figure under the cloak with his right hand, the performer holds a burlesque conversation with him, finally entrusting him with a message to be immediately delivered to the President of the United States, the Shah, or any other individual at a distance. The figure does not move. “Well, sir, are you not going?” asks the performer. The figure shakes his head from side to side, an effect easily produced by turning the body backwards and forwards under the cloak. “You won’t, eh? Why not, I should like to know? Oh! I see what you mean. I haven’t given you your travelling expenses.” As he says the last words, he grasps the figure and cloak from the outside round the neck with the left hand, and draws away the right from beneath the cloak, secretly carrying with it the body, and putting his hand in his pocket, as though in search of money. He leaves the body of the figure in his pocket, and brings out the hand again empty, but in the position of holding a coin between the finger and thumb. “There, sir,” he says, “there is a shilling for you,” making the gesture of giving it. “You don’t see the coin, ladies and gentlemen; but the fact is, what I have just given him is fairy money; the weight of the ordinary coinage would interfere with the rapidity of his flight. Now, sir, make haste; you have nothing to wait for now.”

The performer has, meanwhile, again put the right hand under the cloak, and with two fingers holds the little pocket open for the reception of the head. As he says the last words, he gives the head a sharp downward rap with the fingers of the left hand, and lets it fall into the little pocket, the effect being as if the figure had suddenly vanished. The performer shakes the cloak, and turns it inside out to show that it is empty, taking care always to grasp it by that part which contains the head, when all other portions of the cloak may be shown freely; and as the audience are not aware that the figure is divisible, and supposing it to be indivisible, it would be clearly much too large to be concealed in the closed hand, there is nothing to lead them to guess the secret. If it is desired to make the doll reappear, the head is pushed up again through the opening of the cloak, the hand beneath supporting it by the peg which forms the neck, and it may thus be made to vanish and return any number of times.

With tolerable skill in “palming,” the little pocket may be dispensed with, the head being simply held in the hand. This mode of working is, in our own opinion, to be preferred, as the cloak may then be handed for examination without giving even the infinitesimal clue which the pocket might suggest. Some performers, to still further hoodwink the spectators, make use of two figures—the first, which is handed round for inspection, being solid, and being afterwards secretly changed for its counterpart with the moveable head. Others again use only one figure, which is solid throughout, but are provided with a separate head (whose existence is, of course, not suspected by the spectators), and having handed round the solid figure for examination, conceal this, and work the trick with the head only.

The Dancing Sailor.—The Dancing Sailor is a figure cut out of cardboard, eight or nine inches in height, and with its arms and legs cut out separately, and attached to the trunk with thread in such a manner as to hang perfectly free. The mode of exhibiting it is as follows:—The performer, taking a seat facing the company, with his legs slightly apart, places the figure on the ground between them. As might be expected, it falls flat and lifeless, but after a few mesmeric passes it is induced to stand upright, though without visible support, and on a lively piece of music being played, dances to it, keeping time, and ceasing as soon as the music ceases.

Fig. 158.

The secret lies in the fact that, from leg to leg of the performer, at about the height of the figure from the ground, is fixed (generally by means of a couple of bent pins), a fine black silk thread, of eighteen or twenty inches in length. This allows him to move about without any hindrance. On each side of the head of the figure is a little slanting cut, tending in a perpendicular direction, and about half an inch in length. The divided portions of the cardboard are bent back a little, thus forming two “hooks,” so to speak, at the sides of the head. When the performer takes his seat as before mentioned, the separation of his legs draws the silk comparatively taut, though, against a moderately dark background, it remains wholly invisible. When he first places the figure on the ground, he does so simply, and the figure naturally falls. He makes a few sham mesmeric passes over it, but still it falls. At the third or fourth attempt, however, he places it so that the little hooks already mentioned just catch the thread (see [Fig. 158], showing the arrangement of the head), and the figure is thus kept upright. When the music commences, the smallest motion, or pretence of keeping time with the feet, is enough to start the sailor in a vigorous hornpipe.

The Bottle Imps.—These are miniature black bottles, about two inches in height, with rounded bottoms, and so weighted that, like “tumbler” dolls, they rise of their own accord to the perpendicular, and will not rest in any other position. The proprietor, however, has a charm by which he is able to conquer their obstinate uprightness. For him, and for him only, they will consent to be laid down, and even to stand at an angle of 45°, though they again rebel if any other person attempts to make them do the same.

The little bottles are made of papier maché, or some other very light material, varnished black, the bottom of each being a half bullet, spherical side downwards. The centre of gravity is therefore at the bottom of the bottle, which is thus compelled always to stand upright. The performer, however, is provided with one or two little pieces of iron wire, of such a size and length as just to slip easily into the bottle. One of these being held concealed between the finger and thumb, it is a very easy matter, in picking up the bottle, to slip it in, and this slight additional weight neutralizing the effect of the half bullet at the foot, causes the bottle to lie still in any position. Having shown that the bottle is obedient to the word of command, the performer again picks it up with the neck between the first and second fingers and thumb, carelessly turning it bottom upwards, and thus allowing the bit of wire to slip out again into the palm of his hand, when he is able to again tender the bottle for experiment. Partaking of the nature of a puzzle as well as a conjuring trick, this little toy has amused thousands, and if neatly manipulated, may be repeatedly exhibited, even before the same spectators, with little fear of detection.