Harper's Round Table, July 21, 1896

by Various

He holds the carafe in his left hand, to show that it is empty, and then reaching with his right to the tail pocket of his coat, he pretends to take out the handkerchief, which he shows. This he pushes with a forefinger and his wand into the carafe. The spring-barrel is under his vest at the left side, and when it is time for the handkerchief to leave the carafe, a gentle pressure with the left-hand fingers on the button of the spring-barrel sets the cord in motion, and sends the handkerchief whizzing up his sleeve.

The spring makes a great noise, and to conceal this the man calls out, "One! two! three!—go!" shouting the last word, and accompanying it by a stamp of the foot and a crash at the piano, which is deafening.

The second carafe stands uncovered on a table, and has a small hole drilled in its bottom. The duplicate handkerchief which is to make its appearance in the carafe is arranged as follows: The centre is gathered into a point, and through this is run one end of a long double black thread. Both ends of this thread are led inside the neck of the carafe and out through the hole in the bottom, and again through a corresponding hole in the table, to the hands of an assistant, who is beneath the stage. The handkerchief hangs at the back of the table, where it cannot be seen by the audience. When it is to appear in the carafe, the hidden assistant gives a strong and quick pull on both ends of the thread, and the handkerchief flies so quickly into the carafe that it is impossible for the eye to follow it. When it is once inside the bottle the assistant pulls on one end of the thread, and thus soon pulls it through. The handkerchief is now detached, and may be taken out of the bottle to convince the audience that it is in no wise connected with any string.

Such wonderful tales are told by travellers of the feats of Indian magicians that many believe them to be more than human. I have never been to India, but two very clever conjurers who visited that country, the late Robert Heller and Samri Baldwin, have assured me that they have never seen anything but the most commonplace tricks performed there. I, for one, believe them, for they understood every move that was made, and could not be deceived. Some years ago a theatrical manager introduced a company of Indian jugglers at his theatre, but their tricks were so transparent that they did not succeed in creating any great impression on the public.

More recently a troupe of these wonderful jugglers visited us, and appeared at the Chicago Exposition and in other places through the country. They did the famous trick of putting a man in a basket and apparently making him disappear. It was very bad, and yet Dr. Hodgson, of Boston, who visited India in the interest of the London Psychical Society, says it was done exactly as it is done in India. One really clever trick they did which has as yet not been explained, and that I shall make plain.

THE HINDOO BOAT.

"The Hindoo Boat," a block of wood roughly hewed into the shape of a boat was shown. It was hollowed out inside. Near the bow was a cross-piece having a hole in the centre, and in this was inserted a hollow mast. The other end of this mast was stuck into a hole made in a cocoanut, which had been cleaned out inside. Below the centre of the cocoanut was another hole smaller than the one which admitted the mast.

The performer filled the body of the boat with water from a pitcher, splashing it about his table, and making a great muss. He also filled the cocoanut. Then at the word of command the water flowed or stopped flowing from the hole at E. As the performer stood at a distance from the boat, he had evidently no connection with it, though every control over it.

The secret lies in the fact that the boat was pierced near the bottom with another hole, F, which allowed the water slowly to trickle out. As soon as enough had escaped to bring the water below the cross-piece, the air would rush up the hollow mast, and the water would be forced out of the hole E. This would soon fill the boat again, and as soon as that happened the flow would cease. The performer had only to watch the water in the boat, and be guided by that in giving his commands. It is nothing more than the old story of the Tantalus cup in a new form.