The Young Man (clearing his throat and pointedly addressing a group of torpid tourists on the centre seats). Ladies and gentlemen, with your very kind permission, I will now endeavour to amuse you by exhibiting a few simple feats of ledger de mang to which I invite your closest attention (the persons addressed instantly assume an air of uneasy abstraction), as I find that the more carefully my audience watches my proceedings the less able they are to detect the manner in which the trick is performed.... I 'ave 'ere, ladies and gentlemen, a gingerbeer bottle, just a plain stone gingerbeer bottle of a pattern no doubt familiar to you all. (He produces it, and it appears to be generally unpopular, as if it called up reminiscences of revelry which some would willingly forget.) I will now pass it around in order that you may satisfy yourselves that it is what it appears to be. (To a Somnolent Excursionist in a corner.) Will you oblige me, Sir, by kindly taking it in your 'and?
The Somnolent Excursionist (who seems to be under the impression that he is being offered refreshment). Eh? gingerbeer? No, thanky, never take it.
[He closes his eyes again.
The Y. M. (to a Grumpy Excursionist on a campstool). Perhaps, Sir, you will oblige me by examining this bottle.
The Grumpy Excursionist (wrathfully). Hang it all, Sir, do you suppose I'm any judge of gingerbeer bottles; take the beastly thing away!
The Y. M. (cast down, but undeterred). Well, you are all satisfied that it is an ordinary earthenware bottle. Now I take this tin case—made, as you perceive, in two parts to fit closely round the bottle. I will just give you an opportunity of 'andling the case so that you may convince yourselves of its being perfectly empty. (He proffers it for inspection, but everybody seems willing to take it on trust.) I enclose the bottle in the case—so—I make one or two passes—hey, presto—and, on opening the case, the bottle will be found to have vanished. (It has—but nobody appears to regret its disappearance.) I close the case, which you all saw to be empty, once more, and what do I find it contain! (He pulls out yard after yard of coloured ribbon, which falls absolutely flat, but if the tin case had emitted a column of smoke and a genuine Arabian djinn, it would probably fail just now to produce any deep impression.) I shall next produce a pack of ordinary playing cards, from which I will ask you, Sir, to be good enough to select a card, without letting me see it or mentioning which it is (to the Grumpy Excursionist, who brushes him away irritably as he would a bluebottle).
Madam, will you kindly——? (to the Stout Lady, who turns a shawled shoulder and feebly requests him "Not to come bothering her"). Perhaps you, Sir——? (to a Cadaverous Tourist, who intimates that he "never encourages cardplaying under any form"). Thank you very much (to a Rubicund Tourist, who accepts a card out of sheer good-nature). Now I shuffle the cards again, cut them, and (exhibiting a court-card with mild triumph) unless I am mistaken, Sir, this was the card you chose!
The Rubicund Tourist. Was it? I dessay, I dessay. I didn't notice particularly myself.
[Upon this the Young Man recognises that his conjuring fails to charm, and retires to the funnel in apparent discomfiture.
Excursionists (to one another). Card-tricks are all very well in their proper place; but, when you come out for a blow like this, why.... If it had been a little music, now, or a song, or soomat o' that soart, it would ha' been nahce enoof.... (With dismay.) Why, danged if he isn't going to give us anoother turn of it!
[The Young Man reappears, carrying two dismal old dummies with battered papier-maché heads, and preternaturally mobile jaws.