To Pick Out a Card Thought Of. Blindfold. Take twenty-one cards and lay them down in three rows with their faces upwards; i. e., when you have laid out three, begin again at the left hand and lay one card upon the first, and so on to the right hand; then begin on the left hand again, and so go on until you have laid out the twenty-one cards in three heaps, at the same time requesting any one to think of a card. When you have laid them out, ask him which heap his card is in; then lay that heap in the middle between the other two. This done, lay them out again in three heaps as before, and again request him to notice where his noted card goes, and put that heap in the middle, as before. Then taking up the cards with their backs towards you, take the uppermost card off and reckon it one; take off another, which reckon two; and thus proceed until you come to the eleventh, which will invariably prove to be the card thought of. This trick may be done without your seeing the cards at all, if you handle and count them carefully. To diversify the trick, you may use a different number of cards, but the number chosen must be divisible by three, and the middle card, after they have been thrice dealt as directed, will always be the one thought of; for instance, if done with fifteen cards, it must be the eighth.
The Siamese Aces. Two aces are removed from the pack, which is then cut into three packets. One of the aces is placed on the middle packet, and while the performer is exhibiting the remaining ace, one of the spectators “maliciously” transfers a few cards from either of the outside packets to the top of the middle heap. The performer, not noticing this disarrangement of the cards, places the second ace on top of the first, and the two on top of the middle heap, presumably on top of the first ace, although the spectators, who blithely imagine they are in a conspiracy against the performer, know otherwise. The cards are now dealt from the bottom, face upward, and the two aces come together.
The solution of the mystery is as follows. In taking out two aces—say the ace of clubs and the ace of hearts, glance secretly at the top card of the pack. For the purpose of explanation let us assume that this “key” card is the seven of spades. Now cut the pack into three heaps so that the top part of the pack will form the middle heap. You must number the heaps in your mind from left to right, 1, 2, 3. The top card of the middle heap is the seven of spades. Exhibit the ace of hearts, requesting the spectators to remember the card, and place it on the middle pile. While you are exhibiting the second ace (the ace of clubs), move a little distance from the cards, and at this psychological moment, a friend, who acts as your confederate, (although the audience is not aware of the fact) transfers a few cards from either No. 1 or No. 3 to the top of the centre heap. You are, apparently, oblivious of this manoeuver, and place the ace of clubs on the No. 1 heap, concluding by placing No. 3 on No. 1 and these on the middle heap. Inform the audience that you are about to illustrate for their benefit the surprising amount of affection that exists between cards of the same value. For instance, kings associate with kings, queens with queens, jacks with jacks, and aces with aces; of all cards, you declare, the aces are the most affectionate. Between them the bonds of sympathy are so strong that if they are separated only temporarily they will exert every effort to be reunited. This sympathy is especially strong between a red ace and a black ace—between a club and a heart, a diamond and a spade. In fact, each pair may be likened to the Siamese twins, except that the bond is sentimental rather than material. “You will observe,” adds the performer, “that the ace of clubs and the ace of hearts were placed in different parts of the deck, but so strong is the affection between these aces that I have not the slightest doubt they are at this moment reunited in some portion of the pack. Ah, you smile incredulously; but I assure you that what I say is literally true, and I am prepared to make my assertion good. Observe, pray, that I shall deal the cards one at a time on the table, and when I come to one of the aces, the other will be with it.” The spectators, knowing that the cards have been disarranged, smile in expectation of the performer’s discomfiture. The conjurer proceeds to deal the cards from the bottom, throwing them face upward on the table. When the “key” card turns up the performer knows that the next card is an ace. He slides this ace back with the third finger of the left hand, and keeps on dealing until the other ace appears, when he throws out the first ace. A flashlight picture of the company at this moment would reveal an interesting study in chagrin.
Detection of a Drawn Card by Color. Previously separate the pack into two parts, placing all the red cards in one pile, and all the black cards in the other. One of these packs you conceal in your pocket. You let any person draw a card from the other pack, and while he is examining the card, substitute the pack in your pocket for the one you hold in your hand. Let him place his card in the pack you have taken from your pocket, and shuffle as much as you please. You will at once recognize the card he has drawn by the difference of color.
Mathematical Detection of Card Thought Of. Arrange the first ten cards of a suit in a circle. Request some one to think of one of the exposed cards and to touch some other card in the circle. Mentally add the value of the card touched to the number of cards displayed (10), and then ask him to count the cards backwards, until the number you have given is reached, beginning at the card touched, and reckoning that card as the number thought of. The card at which he stops will be the one mentally selected.
For example, we will suppose the three was the card thought of, and the six was the card touched. Six added to 10 makes 16. Then request the player to commence counting the cards backwards mentally from the number thought of (three) at the number touched (six) and continue until 16 is named, touching each card as he counts. With finger on six he mentally says “three;” the five-spot he calls four; the four, five; the three, six; the two, seven, and so on up to 16. The mental count will end with the three-spot—the number thought of.
The designation of this time after time, no matter what card is chosen, will seem little short of miraculous to the uninitiated, and will prove an unfailing amusement.
Of course, the evolution of the number to be counted—16 (or 10 added to whatever card is touched)—must not be explained, and the apparent haphazard choice of various numbers, when the director says: “Now count backward till you reach 20 this time,” or “12,” or “try to find any law you can if I say a little 19,” will not appear due to tact or finesse, but to be the result of some mysterious intuitive power.