THE MAGIC PICTURE FRAME AND VANISHING PLAYING CARDS.
The magician Bosco, of Milan, numbered among his acquaintances the negro prima donna whose advent as “the Black Malibran” caused quite an operatic warfare in our fathers’ time, from a certain opposition being waged against a Desdemona of Othello’s colour presuming to darken the stage.
One afternoon previous to Signor Bosco’s performance at the Rooms at the back of the Princess’s Theatre, which veteran playgoers will remember, he took tea with the lady.
It was his habit, a pleasant one, of experimenting with his really remarkable inventions upon his friends before unveiling them to the public.
On this occasion he produced at the tea-table a pretty little picture frame. It was simply a border of wood around a square of quite clear glass, with coloured paper pasted over the back to keep out the dust.
Taking up a pack of cards, he had one drawn by the lady—let us suppose the ten of diamonds. This he made to vanish in the air.
Then he again had the picture frame observed, that it might be beyond doubt that nothing but the clear glass in the front, and the coloured opaque back, were visible. And over the frame, held in the lady’s hand, he lightly threw a handkerchief.
He uttered a magic phrase or two, took the frame, still in the handkerchief, waved it in the air, and made a pass or two over it. Then removing the handkerchief he held up the frame to the lady, who, to her astonishment, perceived a card in its centre—the card she had drawn.
Again covering the frame with the handkerchief, Bosco once more bewitched it. On taking away the handkerchief this time, the picture frame was found to have resumed its original condition; in other words, the card had vanished, and there was nothing visible but the border, the clear glass, and the opaque back.