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Title: Magic, Stage Illusions and Scientific Diversions, Including Trick
Photography

Author: Albert A. Hopkins

Author of introduction, etc.: Henry Ridgely Evans

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Most recently updated: October 24, 2024

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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MAGIC, STAGE
ILLUSIONS AND SCIENTIFIC DIVERSIONS, INCLUDING TRICK
PHOTOGRAPHY ***

Please see the Transcriber’s Notes at the
end of this text.

THE SKIRT DANCE.

MAGIC
STAGE ILLUSIONS AND SCIENTIFIC
DIVERSIONS
INCLUDING TRICK PHOTOGRAPHY

COMPILED AND EDITED BY
ALBERT A. HOPKINS
EDITOR OF THE “SCIENTIFIC AMERICAN CYCLOPEDIA OF RECEIPTS, NOTES AND
QUERIES,” ETC.

WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY
HENRY RIDGELY EVANS
AUTHOR OF “HOURS WITH THE GHOSTS; OR, XIX. CENTURY WITCHCRAFT,” ETC.

WITH FOUR HUNDRED ILLUSTRATIONS

LONDON
SAMPSON LOW, MARSTON AND COMPANY
LIMITED
St. Dunstan’s House,
Fetter Lane, Fleet Street, E.C.
1897

Copyright, 1897, by
MUNN & CO.
NEW YORK
ENTERED AT STATIONERS’ HALL, LONDON, ENGLAND

All rights reserved

The articles used from the Scientific American and the Scientific American Supplement
are copyrighted

Printed in the U. S. A. by
J. J. Little & Co., New York City

PREFACE.

It is believed that the present work occupies a unique field in the extensive
literature of magic. There are already a large number of treatises on natural
magic and legerdemain, but in most of them very little attention has been
given to the exposé of stage illusions, which are of great interest as they are
so largely based on ingenious applications of scientific principles. Optics,
mechanics, sound, and electricity have all been pressed into service by the
fin de siècle prestidigitateur. In the present work great attention has been
paid to elaborate tricks of this nature, and in many cases the exposés have
been obtained from the prestidigitateurs themselves. In the first few
chapters many of the best illusions of Robert-Houdin, Dr. Lynn, Professor
Pepper, Bautier de Kolta, Heller, Herrmann, Maskelyne and Cooke, and
Kellar will be found clearly explained.
Conjuring tricks have been by no means neglected, but the number of them
which are given has been limited, owing to the fact that many of the books
on magic have gone into this subject quite extensively. Ventriloquism,
shadowgraphy, mental magic, etc., will also be found treated in the present
work.
The chapters relating to “Ancient Magic” take up the temple tricks of the
ancient Egyptian, Greek, and Roman thaumaturgists, as well as a number of
automata which are very interesting in view of their very early epoch. It is
believed this will be found a particularly entertaining feature of the book.
There is always a great charm about the stage, and the methods of
producing the effects which give realism to the drama. The chapters
devoted to “Theatrical Science” will be found to contain a very large
number of effects and illusions, many of which are here presented for the
first time. Thus an entire opera, “Siegfried,” is taken up, and the methods by
which the wonderful effects are obtained are fully illustrated and described.
Such amusements as cycloramas, the nautical arena, and fireworks with
dramatic accessories are not neglected.

The chapters on “Automata” and “Curious Toys” describe many interesting
tricks and mechanisms of an amusing nature.
The last few chapters of the book deal with “Photographic Diversions,” and
here will be found some of the most curious and interesting tricks and
deceptions which may be performed by the aid of photography. The
practical side of scientific photography will also be found represented. The
chapter on “Chronophotography” describes the photography of moving
objects of all kinds, and shows how the results obtained are of value to the
savant. The projection of moving pictures upon a screen is thoroughly
treated, a number of different forms of the apparatus being described.
The introduction is a unique feature of the work, being written by Mr.
Henry Ridgely Evans, of Washington, D. C., author of “Hours with the
Ghosts; or, Nineteenth Century Witchcraft.” It contains a brief but
remarkably complete history of magic art from the earliest times to the
present date, especial attention being given to amusing incidents in the
careers of celebrated necromancers. This Introduction will be found one of
the most entertaining parts of the present book. Mr. Evans has also
contributed two chapters—one on “Shadowgraphy,” or “Treweyism,” as it
has been called, in honor of M. Félician Trewey, the classic exponent of the
art; the other on “Mental Magic,” or second-sight experiments. The chapter
on “Shadowgraphy” is not only interesting because of the exposé of the art
of theatrical silhouette-making, but on account of the sketch of the life and
adventures of M. Trewey, who is a personal friend of the writer. Mr. Evans
is also the compiler of the excellent Bibliography which concludes the
book. Though this Bibliography makes no pretense to absolute
completeness, it is believed to be more extensive than any other
bibliography of the subject, and it will be found of great value to the student
of psychology, as well as to the student of modern magic. Other
acknowledgments are due to Mr. William E. Robinson, the well-known
prestidigitateur, for many suggestions and favors and for important help in
connection with the Bibliography; Mr. Robinson having a very remarkable
collection of books upon magic, which he has gathered at home and abroad
during a long period. We are also indebted to Mr. H. J. Burlingame, of
Chicago, for permission to use extracts from his writings and for assistance
in the Bibliography.

The matter for the present work is very largely compiled from articles
which have appeared in the “Scientific American” and the “Scientific
American Supplement,” with the addition of much material hitherto
unpublished. Especial acknowledgments are due to our French and German
contemporaries, particularly “La Nature.” The section on “Ancient Magic”
is taken almost wholly from the articles of Colonel A. de Rochas in “La
Nature.” These articles were afterwards amplified by him and published in
a most interesting book entitled “Les Origines de la Science.” It is hoped
that the present work will prove entertaining to those who are fond of the
art magique.

New York, September, 1897.

TABLE OF CONTENTS.

INTRODUCTION.

THE MYSTERIES OF MODERN MAGIC.

PAGE
Ancient Magic—Division of Magic—Cagliostro—Robertson—
Comte de Grisi—Robert-Houdin—Carl Herrmann—Signor Blitz—
Robert Heller—Alexander Herrmann—Bautier de Kolta—Harry
Kellar, 1

BOOK I.

CONJURERS’ TRICKS AND STAGE ILLUSIONS.

CHAPTER I.
Mysterious Disappearances.

“Vanity Fair”—“After the Flood”—“The Magic
Palanquin”—“Cassadaga Propaganda”—“The Appearing
Lady”—“The Disappearing Lady”—“The Mysterious Trunk”—“The
Indian Basket Trick”—“Decapitation”—“Spiritualistic Ties,” 27

CHAPTER II.
Optical Tricks.

The “Cabaret du Neant”—The Three-Headed Woman 55
—“Amphitrite”—“The Mystery of Dr. Lynn”—“Black Art”—The
Talking Head—The Living Half-Woman—“She”—“The Queen of
Flowers”—The “Decapitated Princess”—“Stella”—Houdin’s Magic

Cabinet—A Mystic Maze—Platinized Glass—Statue giving a Double
Image,

CHAPTER III.
Miscellaneous Stage Tricks.

“Trilby”—The “Haunted Swing”—The “Scurimobile”—The
Neoöccultism—“The Mask of Balsamo”—The Invisible Woman—
Magic Harps, 89

CHAPTER IV.
Conjuring Tricks.

Trick with an Egg and a Handkerchief—The Cone of Flowers—The
Magic Rosebush—“Magic Flowers”—The “Birth of Flowers”—
Tricks with a Hat—A Cake Baked in a Hat—The Egg and Hat Trick
—Multiplication of Coins—Magic Coins—The Dissolving Coin—
The Spirit Slates—Second Sight—Magic Cabinets—The Traveling
Bottle and Glass—Disappearance of an Apple and a Ninepin—A
Goblet of Ink Converted into an Aquarium—The Invisible Journey of
a Glass of Wine—The Wine Changed to Water—The Animated
Mouse—The Sand Frame Trick—Houdin’s Magic Ball, 105

CHAPTER V.
Jugglers and Acrobatic Performances.

Jugglers—The Leamy Revolving Trapeze—Walking on the Ceiling
Head Down—The Mysterious Ball, 139

CHAPTER VI.
Fire Eaters and Sword Tricks.

Fire Eaters, Tricks with Fire—A Stab through the Abdomen—The
Human Target—Sword Swallowers—Sword Walker—Dancers on
Glass, 149

CHAPTER VII.

Ventriloquism and Animated Puppets, 164

CHAPTER VIII.
Shadowgraphy.

Shadowgraphy—French Shadows, 173

CHAPTER IX.
Mental Magic.

Robert Heller—Second Sight—The Baldwins and Second Sight—
Silent Thought Transference, 184

BOOK II.

ANCIENT MAGIC.

CHAPTER I.
Temple Tricks of the Greeks.

Puppet Shows among the Greeks—The Shrine of Bacchus—The First
Automobile Vehicle—The Statue of Cybele—Marvelous Altars—The
Machinery of the Temples—Sounding of Trumpets when a Door was
Opened—Opening and Closing Doors when a Fire was Lighted on
the Altar—Invention in 1889 A.D. vs. Invention B.C.—An Egyptian
Lustral Water Vessel, 203

CHAPTER II.
Miraculous Vessels of the Greeks.

The Dicaiometer—Miraculous Vessels—Magical Pitchers—
Apparatus for Permitting the Mixing of Wine and Water in Definite
Proportions—The Magical Bottle—Ancient Organs, 221

CHAPTER III.
The Origin of the Steam Engine.

The Eolipile of Heron—Heron’s Marvelous Altar—Heron’s Tubular
Boiler, 234

CHAPTER IV.
Greek Lamps, Toys, etc.

Perpetual Lamps—An Ancient Automaton—A Greek Toy—The
Decapitated Drinking Horse—Odometers, 239

BOOK III.

SCIENCE IN THE THEATER.

CHAPTER I.
Behind the Scenes of an Opera House—The Ordinary Stage—The
English Stage—The Stage Floor—The Cellars—The Flies—The
Gridiron—Traps-Sliders—Bridges—The Metropolitan Opera House
Stage—Wing Posts—Curtain Calls—The Electric Lighting—Paint
Bridge—The Property Man—Striking a Scene—The Dressing-
Rooms—The Production of a New Opera, 251

CHAPTER II.
Some Remarkable Stages, Ancient and Modern.

An Electric Curtain—The Fan-Drop Curtain—An Elevator Theater
Stage—Some Remarkable American Stage Inventions—A Revolving
Stage—The “Asphaleia” Stage—A Theater with Two Auditoriums—
Curio’s Pivoted Theater—The Olympian Theater of Palladio at
Vicenza, 268

CHAPTER III.
Stage Effects.

Scene Painting—Sunrise Effect—Sun Effect—Change from Day to 293
Night—Stars—Moon Effects—Rainbow Effect—Wind Effect—
Thunder Effect—Lightning—Snow Effect—Wave Effect—Crash
Effect—Rain Effect—Gradual Transformation—Fire and Smoke

Effect—Battle Scenes—Theatrical Firearms—The Imitation of
Odors,

CHAPTER IV.
Theater Secrets.

Traps—The Swan in “Lohengrin”—The Floating Rhine Daughters in
“Rheingold”—The “Sun Robe”—The Ship on the Stage—
Miscellaneous Stage Effects—The Destruction of the Temple of
Dagon—The Horse Race on the Stage—The Effects in “Siegfried”—
Siegfried’s Forge—Siegfried’s Anvil—The Dragon Fafner—Wotan’s
Spear—The Bed of Tulips and the Electric Firefly—The Electric
Torch and Electric Jewels—An Electrical Duel—The Skirt Dance, 311

CHAPTER V.
The Nautical Arena, 345

CHAPTER VI.
A Trip to the Moon, 348

CHAPTER VII.
Cycloramas.

The Electric Cyclorama—The Painted Cyclorama, 354

CHAPTER VIII.
Fireworks With Dramatic Accessories, 362

BOOK IV.

AUTOMATA AND CURIOUS TOYS.

CHAPTER I.
Automata.

Automaton Chess Players—The Automaton Chess Player—A Curious
Automaton—The Toy Artist—A Steam Man, 367

CHAPTER II.
Curious Toys.

An Optical Illusion—The Money Maker—Experiments in Centrifugal
Force and Gravity—The Magic Rose—Electrical Toys—The Electric
Race Course—Magnetic Oracle—The Dancers—An Ancient
Counterpart of a Modern Toy—Unbalanced Toy Acrobats—
Columbus’s Egg—Jacob’s Ladder—The Mikado—A Toy Cart—The
Phonographic Doll, 380

CHAPTER III.
Miscellaneous Tricks of an Amusing Nature.

Interesting Tricks in Elasticity—Novel Puzzle—Simple Match Trick
—Crystallized Ornaments—Magical Apparition on White Paper—
Magic Portraits—A Trick Opera Glass—A Toy Bird that Flies—The
Planchette Table—Japanese Magic Mirrors—Magic Mirrors, 406

BOOK V.

PHOTOGRAPHIC DIVERSIONS.

CHAPTER I.
Trick Photography.

Lavater’s Apparatus for Taking Silhouettes—Photography upon a
Black Ground—Spirit Photography—Artificial Mirage—Duplex
Photography—Illusive Photography—Photographing a Catastrophe—
New Type of Photographic Portrait—Photographing a Human Head
upon a Table—Photographing a Head on a Platter—A Multiple
Portrait—Multiphotography—Pinhole Camera—A Photographic
Necktie—Magic Photographs—Electro-Photo Detective Thief
Catcher—Composite Photography, 423

CHAPTER II.

Chronophotography.

Chronophotography—The Registration and Analysis of the
Movements of Men, Animals, Birds, Fishes, Insects, etc.—Amateur
Chronophotographic Apparatus, 462

CHAPTER III.
The Projection of Moving Pictures.

The Edison Kinetograph—Reynaud’s Optical Theater—Electric
Tachyscope—Apparatus for Projecting Moving Pictures by the
Demeny, Jenkins, Lumière, and Other Forms of Apparatus—The
Kinetoscope Stereopticon—The Mutoscope and the Mutograph, with
Illustrations of Moving Objects—“Cinematograph” Camera—Camera
for Ribbon Photography—The Micromotoscope, 488

APPENDIX.
ADDITIONAL TRICKS.

The Magic Table—“Gone”—The Spider and the Fly—The Trunk
Trick—“La Strobeika Persane”—“Metempsychosis,” 519

BIBLIOGRAPHY OF WORKS ON NATURAL MAGIC, 539

INDEX, 553

MAGIC:
STAGE ILLUSIONS AND SCIENTIFIC
DIVERSIONS,
INCLUDING TRICK PHOTOGRAPHY.

INTRODUCTION.
THE MYSTERIES OF MODERN MAGIC.

By Henry Ridgely Evans.

I.

Far back into the shadowy past, before the building of the pyramids, magic
was a reputed art in Egypt, for Egypt was the “cradle of magic.” The
magicians of Egypt, according to the Bible chronicle, contended against
Aaron, at the court of Pharaoh. The Hebrew prophet “cast down his rod
before Pharaoh and before his servants, and it became a serpent. Then
Pharaoh also called the wise men and the sorcerers: now the magicians of
Egypt, they also did in like manner with their enchantments. For they cast
down every man his rod and they became serpents: but Aaron’s rod
swallowed up their rods.” [Exodus vii. 10, 11, 12.]
The late Robert Heller, prestidigitateur, traveler in the Orient, and skeptic,
once told me that he had seen this feat performed in Cairo many times by
the Dervishes. The rods actually were serpents and hypnotized to such an
extent as to become perfectly stiff and rigid. When thrown upon the earth
and recalled to life by sundry mystic passes and strokes, they crawled away
alive and hideous as ever. Said Heller: “It was in the open air that I saw this
strange feat performed. Transferred to the gloomy audience chamber of
some old palace, where the high roof is supported by ponderous stone
columns painted with hieroglyphics, where rows of black marble sphinxes
stare at you with unfathomable eyes, where the mise en scène is awe-
inspiring—this trick of the rods turning into serpents becomes doubly
impressive, and indeed to the uninitiated a miracle.”
In the British Museum is an Egyptian papyrus, which contains an account
of a magical séance given by a certain Tchatcha-em-ankh before King

Khufu, B.C. 3766. In this manuscript it is stated of the magician: “He
knoweth how to bind on a head which hath been cut off, he knoweth how to
make a lion follow him as if led by a rope, and he knoweth the number of
the stars of the house (constellation) of Thoth.” The decapitation trick is
thus no new thing, while the experiment performed with the lion,
undoubtedly a hypnotic feat, shows hypnotism to be old.
The art of natural magic, then, dates back to the remotest periods of
antiquity. It was an art cultivated by the Egyptian, Chaldean, Jewish,
Roman, and Grecian priesthoods, being used by them to dupe the ignorant
masses. Weeping and bleeding statues, temple doors that flew open with
thunderous sound and apparently by supernatural means, and perpetual
lamps that flamed forever in the tombs of holy men, were some of the
thaumaturgic feats of the Pagan priests. Heron, a Greek mechanician and
mathematician, who lived in the second century before Christ, wrote several
interesting treatises on automata and magical appliances, used in the ancient
temples. Colonel A. De Rochas, in an interesting work, Les Origines de la
Science, has given in detail Heron’s accounts of these wonderful automata
and experiments in natural magic. St. Hippolytus, one of the Fathers of the
early Christian Church, also described and exposed in his works many of
these wonders.
Magic is divided, according to old writers on the occult, into: White magic,
Black magic, and Necromancy. Modern magic, or conjuring, is divided by
Robert-Houdin into five classes, as follows:
1. Feats of Dexterity. The hands and tongue being the only
means used for the production of these illusions.
2. Experiments in Natural Magic. Expedients derived from the
sciences, and which are worked in combination with feats of
dexterity, the combined result constituting “conjuring tricks.”
3. Mental Conjuring. A control acquired over the will of the
spectator; secret thought read by an ingenious system of
diagnosis, and sometimes compelled to take a particular direction
by certain subtle artifices.

4. Pretended Mesmerism. Imitation of mesmeric phenomena,
second-sight, clairvoyance, divination, trance, catalepsy.
5. Mediumship. Spiritualism or pretended evocation of spirits,
table-turning, rapping and writing, mysterious cabinets, etc.
In the Middle Ages magic was greatly in vogue and we read strange stories
of ghosts, goblins, and gnomes in the literature of that period. Shriveled old
women were burned at the stake for the crime of witchcraft, monks in their
gloomy cells wrestled with Satan and the powers of darkness, and grimy
alchemists toiled day and night over the red fires of their furnaces, seeking
in vain for the talismanic philosopher’s stone and wondrous elixir of life.
With the aid of the concave mirror, magicians of the period were able to
produce very fair ghost illusions to gull a susceptible public. Benvenuto
Cellini chronicles one in his fascinating autobiography.
Cellini, as guileless as a child in matters of science, desiring to study
sorcery, applied to a Sicilian priest who was a professed dabbler in the
occult art. One dark night they repaired to the ruins of the Coliseum, at
Rome; the monk described a circle on the ground and placed himself and
the great goldsmith within its mystic outlines; a fire was built, intoxicating
perfumes cast on it, and soon an impenetrable smoke arose. The man of the
cowl then waved his wand in the air, pronounced sundry cabalistic words,
and legions of demons were seen dancing in the air, to the great terror of
Cellini. The story of this spirit séance reads like an Arabian tale, but it is
easily explainable. The priest had a brother confederate concealed among
the ruins, who manipulated a concave mirror, by means of which painted
images were thrown on the smoke. Later on Nostradamus conjured up the
vision of the future King of France for the benefit of the lovely Marie dé
Médicis. This illusion was accomplished by the aid of mirrors adroitly
secreted amid hanging draperies.

II.

The history of magic would be incomplete without a sketch of Cagliostro,
the arch-necromancer of the eighteenth century, who filled all Europe with

his fame. Novels and plays have been founded on his strange career, as
witness Goethe’s “Grand Cophta” and Alexander Dumas’ “Memoirs of a
Physician.” Thomas Carlyle has remorselessly dissected the character of
Cagliostro in an immortal essay, “Count Cagliostro,” which makes
fascinating reading. Cagliostro like Nostradamus, and others of that ilk, as
the Scotch say, was a pretender to magic and sorcery. He manufactured
elixirs of life, raised the shades of the illustrious dead, pretty much after the
fashion of our modern spirit mediums; told fortunes, predicted lucky
numbers in the lottery, transmuted metals, and founded occult lodges of
Egyptian Masonry for the regeneration of mankind. Joseph Balsamo—for
such was the Count’s real name—was born of poor parents at Palermo,
Sicily, in the year 1743. He received the rudiments of an education, and a
smattering of chemistry, at a neighboring monastery, and then started out to
fleece mankind. He began by forging theater tickets, after that a will; then
he robbed a goldsmith named Marano of a sum of money. Balsamo
pretended that a secret treasure lay buried in a certain rocky chasm just
outside the city of Palermo, and that he, for a consideration, was able to
unearth the gold by means of certain magical incantations. Poor Marano
like a susceptible gudgeon swallowed the bait, hook and all, paid the
contingent fee, and accompanied by the amateur sorcerer (it was Balsamo’s
first attempt in the necromantic line) paid a visit on a certain dark night to
the lonely spot where the treasure lay hid from mortal gaze. Joseph drew a
magic circle of phosphorus on the earth, pronounced some spells in a
peculiar gibberish known only to himself, which he denominated Arabic,
and bade the goldsmith dig away for dear life. Marano went vigorously to
work with pick and spade. Suddenly terrific yells were heard, whereupon a
legion of devils (Joseph’s boon companions with cork-blackened visages)
rushed from behind the rocks, pounced upon the goldsmith, and nearly beat
him to death with their pitchforks. The enchanter, in order to escape the
vengeance of the furious Marano, was compelled to flee his native city. In
company with a Greek, Althotas, he visited various places—Greece, Egypt,
Arabia, Persia, Rhodes, Malta, Naples, Venice and Rome. According to his
own account, he studied alchemy at Malta in the laboratory of Pinto, Grand
Master of the Knights of Malta and St. John. At Rome he married a
beautiful girl, Lorenza Feliciani, daughter of a girdle maker, who proved of
great assistance to him in his impostures. They travelled over Europe in a
coach-and-four with a retinue of servants garbed in gorgeous liveries.

Balsamo changed his name to the high-sounding title of the Comte de
Cagliostro, and scattered money right and left. “At Strasbourg,” says one of
his biographers, “he reaped an abundant harvest by professing the art of
making old people young; in which pretension he was seconded by his wife,
Lorenza Feliciani, who, though only twenty years of age, declared that she
was sixty and that she had a son a veteran in the Dutch service.” Cagliostro
also pretended to be of a great age, and solemnly declared that he had
hobnobbed with Alexander and Julius Cæsar; that he was present at the
burning of Rome under Nero and was an eye-witness of the crucifixion of
Christ. Cardinal de Rohan, of France, who became a firm believer in the
pretensions of the charlatan, entertained him in Paris, introducing him to
that gay world of the Old Régime which went out forever with the French
Revolution. This was in 1785. All Paris went wild over the enchanter, and
thronged to his magical soirées at his residence in the Rue St. Claude.
Cagliostro coined money in the French capital with his spurious Egyptian
Rite of Freemasonry, which promised to its votaries the length of life of the
Noachites, and superhuman power over nature and her laws. Imbert Saint-
Amand, the interesting author of “Marie Antoinette and the End of the Old
Régime,” says (Scribner Edition): “The mania for the supernatural, the rage
for the marvelous, prevailed in the last years of the eighteenth century,
which had wantonly derided every sacred thing. Never were the
Rosicrucians, the adepts, sorcerers, and prophets so numerous and so
respected. Serious and educated men, magistrates, courtiers, declared
themselves eye-witnesses of alleged miracles.... When Cagliostro came to
France, he found the ground prepared for his magical operations. A society
eager for distractions and emotions, indulged to every form of
extravagance, necessarily welcomed such a man and hailed him as its guide.
Whence did he come? What was his country, his age, his origin? Where did
he get those extraordinary diamonds which adorned his dress, the gold
which he squandered so freely? It was all a mystery.... So far as was known,
Cagliostro had no resources, no letter of credit, and yet he lived in luxury.
He treated and cured the poor without pay, and not satisfied with restoring
them to health, he made them large presents of money. His generosity to the
poor, his scorn for the great, aroused universal enthusiasm. The Germans,
who lived on legends, imagined that he was the Wandering Jew.... Speaking
a strange gibberish, which was neither French nor Italian, with which he
mingled a jargon which he did not translate, but called Arabic, he used to

recite with solemn emphasis the most absurd fables. When he repeated his
conversation with the angel of light and the angel of darkness, when he
spoke of the great secret of Memphis, of the Hierophant, of the giants, the
enormous animals, of a city in the interior of Africa ten times as large as
Paris, where his correspondents lived, he found a number of people ready to
listen and believe him.”
The interior of Africa was an excellent place in which to locate all these
marvels. Since no traveler in that age of skepticism and credulity had ever
penetrated into the mysterious land of Ham, it was impossible to deny the
Munchausen-like stories of the magician. All this bears a close analogy to
the late Madame Blavatsky and her Tibetan Mahatmas. Cagliostro, like all
successful and observant wizards, was keenly alive to the effects of mise en
scène in his necromantic exhibitions; he was a strong believer in the
spectacular. To awe his dupes with weird and impressive ceremonies,
powerfully to stimulate their imaginations—ah, that was the great
desideratum! His séance-room was hung with somber draperies, and
illuminated with wax lights in massive silver candlesticks which were
arranged about the apartment in mystic triangles and pentagons.
Says Saint-Amand: “As a sorcerer he had a cabalistic apparatus. On a table
with a black cloth, on which were embroidered in red the mysterious signs
of the highest degree of the Rosicrucians, there stood the emblems: little
Egyptian figures, old vials filled with lustral waters, and a crucifix, very
like, though not the same as the Christian’s cross; and there too Cagliostro
placed a glass globe full of clarified water. Before the globe he used to
place a kneeling seer; that is to say, a young woman who, by supernatural
powers, should behold the scenes which were believed to take place in
water within the magic globe.
“Count Beugnot, who gives all the details in his Memoirs, adds that for the
proper performance of the miracle the seer had to be of angelic purity, to
have been born under a certain constellation, to have delicate nerves, great
sensitiveness, and, in addition, blue eyes. When she knelt down, the
geniuses were bidden to enter the globe. The water became active and
turbid. The seer was convulsed, she ground her teeth, and exhibited every
sign of nervous excitement. At last she saw and began to speak. What was
taking place that very moment at hundreds of miles from Paris, in Vienna or

Saint Petersburg, in America or Pekin, as well as things which were going
to occur only some weeks, months, or years later, she declared that she saw
distinctly in the globe. The operation had succeeded; the adepts were
transported with delight.”
Cagliostro became involved in the affair of the Diamond Necklace, and was
thrown into the Bastille. Though eventually liberated, he was compelled to
leave Paris. He made one remarkable prediction: That the Bastille would
one day be razed to the ground. How well that prophecy was realized,
history relates. In the year 1789 the enchanter was in Rome, at the inn of the
Golden Sun. He endeavored to found one of his Egyptian Lodges in the
Eternal City, but the Holy Inquisition pounced down upon him, adjudged
him guilty of the crime of Freemasonry—a particularly heinous offense in
Papal Territory—and condemned him to death. The sentence, however, was
commuted by the Pope to perpetual imprisonment in the gloomy fortress of
San Leon, Urbino. The manner of his death, nay the day of his death, is
uncertain, but it is supposed to have taken place one August morning in the
year 1790. The beautiful Lorenza Feliciani, called by her admirers the
“Flower of Vesuvius,” ended her days in a convent, sincerely repentant, it is
said, of her life of impostures.

III.

With Cagliostro, so-called genuine magic died. Of the great pretenders to
occultism he was the last to win any great fame, although there has been a
feeble attempt to revive thaumaturgy in this nineteenth century by Madame
Blavatsky. Science has laughed away sorcery, witchcraft, and necromancy.
Prior to Cagliostro’s time a set of men arose calling themselves faiseurs,
who practiced the art of sleight-of-hand, allied to natural magic. They gave
very amusing and interesting exhibitions. Very few of these conjurers laid
claim to occult powers, but ascribed their jeux, or tricks, to manual
dexterity, mechanical and scientific effects. These magicians soon became
popular.
Towards the middle of the eighteenth century we hear of Jonas, Androletti,
Carlotti, Pinetti, Katerfelto, Philadelphus Philadelphia, Rollin, Comus I. and

II. Pinetti, when he arrived in London in 1784, displayed the following
advertisement: “The Chevalier Pinetti with his Consort will exhibit most
wonderful, stupendous, and absolutely inimitable, mechanical, physical,
and philosophical pieces, which his recent deep scrutiny in those sciences,
and assiduous exertions, have enabled him to invent and construct; among
which Chevalier Pinetti will have the special honor and satisfaction of
exhibiting various experiments of new discovery, no less curious than
seemingly incredible, particularly that of Madame Pinetti being seated in
one of the front boxes, with a handkerchief over her eyes, and guessing at
everything imagined and proposed to her by any person in the company.”
Here we have the first mention of the second-sight trick, which in the hands
of latter-day artists has become so popular. Houdin rediscovered it, passed it
on to Robert Heller who improved it, and at the present time the conjurer
Kellar makes it his pièce de résistance. Rollin had a romantic career. He
accumulated a fortune at conjuring, and purchased the chateau of Fontenay-
aux-Roses, in the department of the Seine. Says H. J. Burlingame, an
interesting writer on magic: “Rollin incurred the suspicions of the
Committee of Public Safety in 1793, and suffered death by the guillotine.
On the warrant for his execution being read to him, he turned to those about
him, and observed, ‘This is the first paper I cannot conjure away.’ Rollin
was the grandfather of the late political celebrity of that name, who was
minister of the interior in the provisional government of France of 1848.”
Comus II., who played in London in the year 1793, gave a curious
exhibition of conjuring tricks and automata. His programme announced that
the Great Comus would present “various uncommon experiments with his
‘Enchanted Horologium,’ ‘Pyxidus Literarum,’ and many curious
operations in ‘Rhabdology,’ ‘Stenaganagraphy,’ and ‘Phylacteria,’ with
many wonderful performances of the grand ‘Dodecahedron,’ also
‘Chartomantic Deceptions’ and ‘Kharamatic Operations.’ To conclude with
the performance of the ‘Teretopæst Figure and Magical House’; the like
never seen in this kingdom before, and will astonish every beholder.”
In the height of the French Revolution, when the guillotine reeked with
blood and the ghastly knitting-women sat round it counting the heads as
they fell into the basket, a Belgian optician, named Etienne Gaspard
Robertson, arrived in Paris, and opened a wonderful exhibition in an
abandoned chapel belonging to the Capuchin convent. The curiosity-seekers

who attended these séances were conducted by ushers down dark flights of
stairs to the vaults of the chapel and seated in a gloomy crypt shrouded with
black draperies and pictured with the emblems of mortality. An antique
lamp, suspended from the ceiling, emitted a flame of spectral blue. When
all was ready a rain and wind storm, with thunder accompanying, began.
Robertson extinguished the lamp and threw various essences on a brazier of
burning coals in the center of the room, whereupon clouds of odoriferous
incense filled the apartment. Suddenly, with the solemn sound of a far-off
organ, phantoms of the great arose at the incantations of the magician.
Shades of Voltaire, Rousseau, Marat, and Lavoisier appeared in rapid
succession. Robertson, at the end of the entertainment, generally concluded
by saying: “I have shown you, citizens, every species of phantom, and there
is but one more truly terrible specter—the fate which is reserved for us all.”
In a moment a grinning skeleton stood in the center of the hall waving a
scythe. All these wonders were perpetrated through the medium of a
phantasmagoric lantern, which threw images upon smoke. This was a great
improvement on the simple concave mirror which so terrified Cellini. The
effect of this entertainment was electrical; all Paris went wild over it.
Robertson, lucky fellow, managed to save his neck from “La Guillotine,”
and returned to his native province with a snug fortune to die of old age in a
comfortable feather bed.
Clever as was Robertson’s ghost illusion, performed by the aid of the
phantasmagoric lantern, it had one great defect: the images were painted on
glass and lacked the necessary vitality. It was reserved for the nineteenth
century to produce the greatest of spectral exhibitions, that of Prof. Pepper,
manager of the London Polytechnic Institution. In the year 1863, he
invented a clever device for projecting the images of living persons in the
air. The illusion is based on a simple optical effect. In the evening carry a
lighted candle to the window and you will see reflected in the pane, not
only the image of the candle but that of your hand and face as well. The
same illusion may be seen while traveling in a lighted railway carriage at
night; you gaze through the clear sheet of glass of the coach window and
behold your “double” traveling along with you. The apparatus for
producing the Pepper ghost has been used in dramatizations of Bulwer’s
“Strange Story,” Dickens’ “Haunted Man” and “Christmas Carol,” and

Dumas’ “Corsican Brothers.” In France the conjurers Robin and Lassaigne
presented the illusion with many novel and startling effects.
One of the most famous of the eighteenth-century magicians was Torrini, a
French nobleman, whose real name was the Comte de Grisi. His father, a
devoted adherent of Louis XVI., lost his life at the storming of the Tuileries,
on that fatal day in August, ever memorable in the annals of French history.
Profiting by the disorders in the French capital, the young De Grisi was
enabled to pass the barriers and reach the family chateau in Languedoc. He
dug up a secret treasure his father had concealed for any emergency, and
proceeded to Italy to study medicine. He established himself at Naples,
where he soon became a physician of note. Here his noble birth and
aristocratic manners gave him the entrée into the best society of the city.
Like many enthusiastic amateurs he became interested in legerdemain, and
performed for the amusement of his friends. A peculiar incident led him to
adopt the profession of a magician. At the Carnival of 1796, the Chevalier
Pinetti arrived in Naples to give a series of magical entertainments. Pinetti
was the idol of the Italian public. The Comte de Grisi, having unraveled the
secrets of most of Pinetti’s illusions, performed them for his friends. Pinetti,
who was furious at having a rival, set about revenging himself on the
audacious amateur. Without much difficulty he succeeded in ingratiating
himself with De Grisi, and complimented him on his success as a
prestidigitateur. One evening, he persuaded the young Count to take his
place at the theater and give a performance for the benefit of the poor of the
city. Intoxicated with flattery, to say nothing of numerous glasses of
champagne, De Grisi consented. The greater number of Pinetti’s tricks were
performed by the aid of confederates in the audience, who loaned various
objects of which the magician had duplicates. A diabolical trap was laid for
De Grisi. One of the accomplices declared that he had loaned the young
magician a valuable diamond ring to use in a trick, and had had returned to
him a pinchbeck substitute. Here was a dilemma, but De Grisi put the man
off with an excuse until after the entertainment. Approaching the box where
the king and his family were seated, De Grisi begged the monarch to draw a
card from a pack. No sooner, however, had the king glanced at the card he
had selected, than he threw it angrily on the stage, with marks of intense
dissatisfaction. De Grisi, horror-struck, picked up the card and found
written on it a coarse insult. The conjurer rushed off the stage, picked up his

sword, and searched in vain for the author of the infamous act of treachery;
but Pinetti had fled. De Grisi was so utterly ruined, socially and financially,
by this fiasco, that he came near dying of brain fever, the result of
overwrought emotions. On his recovery he vowed vengeance on Pinetti, a
most unique vengeance. Says De Grisi: “To have challenged him would be
doing him too much honor, so I vowed to fight him with his own weapons,
and humiliate the shameful traitor in my turn. This was the plan I drew up: I
determined to devote myself ardently to sleight-of-hand, to study
thoroughly an art of which I as yet knew only the first principles. Then,
when quite confident in myself—when I had added many new tricks to
Pinetti’s repertoire—I would pursue my enemy, enter every town before
him, and continually crush him by my superiority.”
De Grisi sold everything he possessed, took refuge in the country, and
toiled for six months at sleight-of-hand. Then with splendid apparatus and
elaborate printing, he took the field against his hated enemy. He succeeded
in accomplishing his ends: Pinetti had to retire vanquished. Pinetti died in a
state of abject misery at the village of Bastichoff, in Volhynia, Russia. De
Grisi determined to proceed to Rome as a finish to his Italian performances.
Pinetti had never dared to enter the Eternal City, since he laid claims to
genuine necromancy to encompass his tricks. Remembering the fate of the
Comte de Cagliostro, he apprehended a trial for sorcery, and a possible auto
da fé.
De Grisi, however, had no such fears, as his entertainment was professedly
a sleight-of-hand performance and did not come under the denomination of
witchcraft and necromancy. The Frenchman set his wits to work to concoct
a trick worthy to set before a Pope. Happening one day to drop into a
jeweler’s shop, he espied a magnificent watch lying on the counter
undergoing repairs. “Whose chronometer?” inquired the wizard
nonchalantly. “His Eminence, the Cardinal de ——’s watch, worth ten
thousand francs, and made by the renowned Brègnet of Paris,” said the
jeweler. “Is there another timepiece similar to this in Rome?” continued De
Grisi, examining the watch. “But one,” replied the jeweler, “and that owned
by an improvident young noble who spends his time in the gambling hells
wasting his ancestral estates.”

That was enough for the juggler. He commissioned the jeweler to purchase
the watch at any cost and engrave the Cardinal’s coat-of-arms inside of the
case. The expensive recreation cost De Grisi a thousand francs. When the
evening of the performance arrived the magician appeared before the Pope
and a brilliant assemblage of red-robed Cardinals and executed his
astonishing experiments in conjuring. As a culminating feat he borrowed
the Cardinal’s chronometer, which had been returned by the jeweler. After
many promises to handle it carefully, he dropped it on the floor of the
audience chamber as if by accident and set his heel upon it. Smash went the
priceless timepiece. The Cardinal turned pale with rage, and all were horror-
struck at the unfortunate fiasco. But the Frenchman smiled at the
consternation of the spectators, picked up the fragments of the watch, had
them fully identified in order to preclude any idea of substitution, and then
proceeded to pulverize them in a big brass mortar. A detonation took place
and red flames leaped up from the mortar in the most approved order of
diabolism; all crowded around to watch the result. Watching his
opportunity, the wizard surreptitiously slipped the duplicate chronometer
into a pocket of the Pope’s cassock. The mystification was complete when
De Grisi pretended to pass the ingot of melted gold from the mortar into the
pocket of His Holiness, resulting in the discovery of the watch, which was
produced intact. This seeming marvel made the lifelong reputation of the
French artist. The Pontiff presented him the day after the séance with a
magnificent diamond-studded snuff-box as a mark of esteem.
Years after this event, De Grisi’s son was accidentally shot by a spectator in
the gun trick. A real leaden bullet got among the sham bullets and was
loaded into the weapon. The wretched father did not long survive this tragic
affair. He died in the city of Lyons, France, in the early part of this century.
De Grisi was a superb performer with cards, his “blind man’s game of
piquet” being a trick unparalleled in the annals of conjuring.
After De Grisi came a host of clever magicians, among whom may be
mentioned Döbler, whose principal trick was the lighting of one hundred
candles by a pistol shot; Philippe, the first European performer to present
the “bowls of gold fish” and the “Chinese rings”; Bosco, expert in cup and
ball conjuring; and Comte, ventriloquist and expert in flower tricks. Comte
was the most distinguished of these artists, being noted for his wit and
audacity. He was a past master in the art of flattery. The following good

story is told of him: During a performance at the Tuileries given before
Louis XVIII, Comte asked the king to draw a card from a pack. The
monarch selected the king of hearts, by chance, or by adroit forcing on the
part of the magician. The card was torn up, and rammed into a pistol.
“Look, your majesty,” said Comte, pointing to a vase of flowers which
stood upon a table in the center of the stage. “I shall fire this pistol at the
vase and the king of hearts will appear just above the flowers.”
The weapon was fired, whereupon a small bust of Louis XVIII appeared
instantaneously out of the center of the bouquet.
“Ah,” exclaimed the king to the conjurer, in a slightly sarcastic tone of
voice, “I think. Monsieur Magician, that you have made a slight mistake.
You promised to make the king of hearts appear, but——”
“Pardon me, your majesty,” interrupted the conjurer, “but I have fulfilled
my promise to the letter. Behold, there is your likeness!—and are you not
the acknowledged king of all our hearts, the well-beloved of the French
people?”
The king bowed his royal head benignly, while the assembled courtiers
made the salon ring with their applause. The journals next morning reported
this little scene, and Comte became the lion of the hour.
Comte was in the zenith of his fame when a new performer entered the
arena of magic—Robert-Houdin. One day the following modest handbill
appeared on the Parisian bulletin-boards:

Aujourd’hui Jeudi, 3 Juillet 1845.

PREMIÈRE REPRÉSENTATION
DES

SOIRÉES FANTASTIQUES
DE

ROBERT-HOUDIN.
AUTOMATES, PRESTIDIGITATION, MAGIE

IV.

In the year 1843 there was situated in the Rue du Temple, Paris, a little
shop, over the door of which was displayed the unpretentious sign, “M.
Robert-Houdin, Pendules de Précision.” It was the shop of a watchmaker
and constructor of mechanical toys. The proprietor was destined to be the
greatest and most original fantaisiste of his time, perhaps of all times, the
founder of a new and unique school of conjuring, and the inventor of some
marvelous illusions. No one who stopped at the unpretentious place could
have prophesied that the keen-eyed little Frenchman, in his long blouse
besmeared with oil and iron filings, would become the premier
prestidigitateur of France, the inventor of the electrical bell, improver of the
electrical clock, author, and ambassador to the Arabs of Algeria. During his
spare moments Houdin constructed the ingenious automata that
subsequently figured in his famous Soirées Fantastiques. When he went
abroad on business or for pleasure he wore the large paletot of the period
and practiced juggling with cards and coins in the capacious pockets.
About the time of which I write he invented his “mysterious clock”—a
piece of apparatus that kept admirable time, though apparently without
works—and he sold one of them to a wealthy nobleman, the Count de
l’Escalopier. The Count, who was an ardent lover of the art amusante, or
science wedded to recreation, made frequent visits to the shop in the Rue du
Temple, and sat for hours on a stool in the dingy workroom watching
Houdin at work. A strong friendship grew up between the watchmaker and
the scion of the Old Régime. It was not long before Houdin confided the
secret of his hopes to the Count—his burning desire to become a great
magician.
The nobleman approved the idea, and in order to give the conjurer
opportunities for practice, so that he might acquire the confidence which he
lacked, constantly invited him to pass the evening at the De l’Escalopier

mansion, for the purpose of trying his skill in sleight-of-hand before a
congenial and art-loving company. On one occasion, after a dinner given in
honor of Monseigneur Affré, Archbishop of Paris, who was killed at the
barricades during the Revolution of 1848, Houdin performed his clever
trick of the “burnt writing restored.” In the language of Houdin, the effect
was as follows: “After having requested the spectators carefully to examine
a large envelope sealed on all sides, I handed it to the Archbishop’s Grand
Vicar, begging him to keep it in his own possession. Next, handing to the
prelate himself a small slip of paper, I requested him to write thereon,
secretly, a sentence, or whatever he might choose to think of; the paper was
then folded in four, and (apparently) burnt. But scarcely was it consumed
and the ashes scattered to the winds, than, handing the envelope to the
Archbishop, I requested him to open it. The first envelope being removed a
second was found, sealed in like manner; then another, until a dozen
envelopes, one inside another, had been opened, the last containing the
scrap of paper restored intact. It was passed from hand to hand, and each
read as follows:
“‘Though I do not claim to be a prophet I venture to predict, sir, that you
will achieve brilliant success in your future career.’”
Houdin preserved this slip of paper as a religious relic for many years, but
lost it during his travels in Algeria.
The Count de l’Escalopier, after the incident at the memorable dinner, urged
Houdin to start out immediately as a conjurer. One day the watchmaker,
after considerable hesitation, confessed his inability to do so on account of
poverty.
“Ah,” replied the nobleman, “if that’s all, it is easily remedied. I have at
home ten thousand francs or so which I really don’t know what to do with.
Accept them, my dear Houdin, and begin your career.”
But Houdin, loath to incur the responsibility of risking a friend’s money in a
theatrical speculation, without some guarantee of its being repaid, refused
the generous offer. Again and again De l’Escalopier urged him to take it,
but without success; finally the nobleman, annoyed at the mechanician’s
obstinacy, left the shop in a state of pique. But after a few days he returned,
saying, as he entered: “Since you are determined not to accept a favor from

me, I have come to ask one of you. Listen! For the last year an escritoire in
my sleeping-apartment has been robbed from time to time of large sums of
money, notwithstanding the fact that I have adopted all manner of
precautions and safeguards, such as changing the locks, having secret
fastenings placed on the doors, etc. I have dismissed my servants, one after
another, but, alas! have not discovered the culprit. This very morning I have
been robbed of a couple of thousand-franc notes. There is a dark cloud of
suspicion and evil hanging over my house that nothing will lift till the thief
is caught. Can you help me?”
“I am willing to serve you,” said Houdin; “but how?”
“What!” replied De l’Escalopier; “you a mechanician, and ask how? Come,
come, my friend; can you not devise some mechanical means for
apprehending a thief?”
Houdin thought a minute, and said quietly: “I’ll see what I can do for you.”
Setting to work feverishly, he invented the apparatus, and aided by his two
workmen, who remained with him the whole of the night, he had it ready at
eight o’clock the next morning. To the nobleman’s house Houdin went. The
Count under various pretexts had sent all his servants away, so that no one
should be aware of the mechanician’s visit.
While Houdin was placing his apparatus in position, the Count frequently
expressed his wonderment at the heavy padded glove which the conjurer
wore on his right hand.
“All in good time, my dear Count,” said Houdin. When everything was
arranged, the mechanician began his explanation of the working of the
secret detective apparatus. “You see, it is like this,” he remarked. “The thief
unlocks the desk, but no sooner does he raise the lid, ever so little, than this
claw-like piece of mechanism, attached to a light rod, and impelled by a
spring, comes sharply down on the back of the hand which holds the key,
and at the same time the report of a pistol is heard. The noise is to alarm the
household, and——”
“But the glove you wear!” interrupted the nobleman.
“The glove is to protect me from the operation of the steel claw which
tattooes the word Robber on the back of the criminal’s hand.”

“How is that accomplished?” said De l’Escalopier.
“Simplest thing in the world,” replied Houdin. “The claw consists of a
number of very short but sharp points, so fixed as to form the word: and
these points are shoved through a pad soaked with nitrate of silver, a portion
of which is forced by the blow into the punctures, thereby making the scars
indelible for life. A fleur de lys stamped by an executioner with a red-hot
iron could not be more effective.”
“But, M. Houdin,” said the Count, horror-stricken at the idea. “I have no
right to anticipate Justice in this way. To brand a fellow-being in such a
fashion would forever close the doors of society against him. I could not
think of such a thing. Besides, suppose some member of my family through
carelessness or forgetfulness were to fall a victim to this dreadful
apparatus.”
“You are right,” answered Houdin. “I will alter the mechanism in such a
way that no harm can come to any one, save a mere superficial flesh wound
that will easily heal. Give me a few hours.”
The Count assented, and the mechanician went home to his work-shop to
make the required alterations. At the appointed time, he returned to the
nobleman’s mansion, and the machine was adjusted to the desk. In place of
the branding apparatus, Houdin had arranged a kind of cat’s claw to scratch
the back of the thief’s hand. The desk was closed, and the two men parted
company.
The Count did everything possible to excite the cupidity of the robber. He
sent repeatedly for his stock-broker, on which occasions sums of money
were ostentatiously passed from hand to hand; he even made a pretense of
going away from home for a short time, but the bait proved a failure. Each
day the nobleman reported, “no result,” to Houdin, and was on the point of
giving up in despair. Two weeks elapsed. One morning De l’Escalopier
rushed into the watchmaker’s shop, sank breathlessly on a chair, and
ejaculated: “I have caught the robber at last.”
“Indeed,” replied Houdin; “who is he?”
“But first let me relate what happened,” said the Count. “I was seated this
morning in my library when the report of a pistol resounded in my sleeping-

apartment. ‘The thief!’ I exclaimed excitedly. I looked around me for a
weapon, but finding nothing at hand, I grasped an ancient battle-ax from a
stand of armor near by, and ran to seize the robber. I pushed open the door
of the sleeping-room and saw, to my intense surprise, Bernard, my trusted
valet and factotum, a man who has been in my employ for upwards of
twenty years. ‘What are you doing here?’ I asked; ‘what was that noise?’
“In the coolest manner he replied: ‘I came into the room just as you did, sir,
at the explosion of the pistol. I saw a man making his escape down the back
stairs, but I was so bewildered that I was unable to apprehend him.’
“I rushed down the back stairs, but, finding the door locked on the inside,
knew that no one could have passed that way. A great light broke upon me.
‘Great God!’ I cried, ‘can Bernard be the thief?’ I returned to the library. My
valet was holding his right hand behind him, but I dragged it forward, and
saw the imprint of the claw thereon. The wound was bleeding profusely.
Finding himself convicted, the wretch fell on his knees and begged my
forgiveness.
“‘How long have you been robbing me?’ I asked.
“‘For nearly two years,’ he said.
“‘And how much have you taken?’ I inquired.
“‘Fifteen thousand francs, which I invested in Government stock. The scrip
is in my desk.’
“I found the securities correct, and in the presence of another witness, made
Bernard sign the following confession:
“‘I, the undersigned, hereby admit having stolen from the Count de
l’Escalopier the sum of 15,000 francs, taken by me from his desk by the aid
of false keys.
“‘Bernard X——.
“‘Paris, the — day of ——, 18—.
“‘Now go,’ I exclaimed, ‘and never enter this house again. You are safe
from prosecution; go, and repent of your crime.’

“And now,” said the Count to Houdin, “I want you to take these 15,000
francs and begin your career as a conjurer; surely you cannot refuse to
accept as a loan the money your ingenuity has rescued from a robber. Take
it——”
The nobleman produced the securities, and pressed them into Houdin’s
hands. The mechanician, overcome by the Count’s generosity, embraced
him in true Gallic style, and this embrace, Houdin says, “was the only
security De l’Escalopier would accept from me.”
Without further delay the conjurer had a little theatre constructed in the
Palais Royal, and began his famous performances, called by him: “Soirées
Fantastiques de Robert-Houdin,” which attained the greatest popularity. He
was thus enabled within a year to pay back the money borrowed from the
Count de l’Escalopier.
Jean Eugène Robert, afterwards known to fame by the cognomen of Robert-
Houdin, was born at Blois, the birthplace of Louis XII, on the sixth of
December, 1805. His father was a watchmaker. At the age of eleven Robert
was sent to a Jesuit college at Orleans, preparatory to the study of law, and
was subsequently apprenticed to a notary at Blois, but finding the
transcribing of musty deeds a tiresome task, he prevailed on his father to let
him follow the trade of a watchmaker. While working in this capacity, he
chanced one day to enter a bookseller’s shop to purchase a treatise on
mechanics, and was handed by mistake a work on conjuring. The marvels
contained in this volume fired his imagination, and this incident decided his
future career, but he did not realize his ambition until later in life, when De
l’Escalopier came to his aid.
In his early study of sleight-of-hand Houdin soon recognized that the organs
performing the principal part are the sight and touch. He says in his
memoirs: “I had often been struck by the ease with which pianists can read
and perform at sight the most difficult pieces. I saw that, by practice, it
would be possible to create a certainty of perception and facility of touch,
rendering it easy for the artist to attend to several things simultaneously,
while his hands were busy employed with some complicated task. This
faculty I wished to acquire and apply to sleight-of-hand; still, as music
could not afford me the necessary element, I had recourse to the juggler’s

art.” Residing at Blois at the time was a mountebank who, for a
consideration, initiated the young Houdin into the mysteries of juggling,
enabling him to juggle four balls at once and read a book at the same time.
“The practice of this feat,” continues Houdin, “gave my fingers a
remarkable degree of delicacy and certainty, while my eye was at the same
time acquiring a promptitude of perception that was quite marvelous.”
On Thursday evening, July 3, 1845, Houdin’s first Fantastic Evening took
place in a small hall of the Palais Royal. The little auditorium would seat
only two hundred people, but the prices of admission were somewhat high,
front seats being rated at $1 or five francs, and no places were to be had
under forty sous. The stage set represented a miniature drawing-room in
white and gold in the Louis XV style. In the center was an undraped table,
flanked by two small side tables of the lightest possible description; at the
side wings or walls were consoles, with about five inches of gilt fringe
hanging from them; and across the back of the room ran a broad shelf, upon
which were displayed the various articles to be used in the séances. A
chandelier and elegant candelabra made the little scene brilliant. The
simplicity of everything on the conjurer’s stage disarmed suspicion;
apparently there was no place for the concealment of anything. Prior to
Houdin’s day the wizards draped all of their tables to the floor, thereby
making them little else than ponderous confederate boxes. Conjuring under
such circumstances was child’s play, as compared with the difficulties to be
encountered with the apparatus of the new school. In addition, Houdin
discarded the long, flowing robes of many of his predecessors, as savoring
too much of charlatanism, and appeared in evening dress. Since his time, no
first-class prestidigitateur has dared to offend good taste, by presenting his
illusions in any other costume than that of a gentleman habited à la mode,
nor has he dared to give a performance with draped tables. In fact, modern
professors of the art magique have gone to extremes on the question of
tables and elaborate apparatus, many of them using simple little guéridons
with glass tops, unfringed. Houdin’s center table was a marvel of
mechanical skill and ingenuity. Concealed in the body were “vertical rods
each arranged to rise and fall in a tube, according as it was drawn down by
a spiral spring or pulled up by a whip-cord which passed over a pulley at
the top of the tube and so down the table leg to the hiding place of the
confederate.” There were “ten of these pistons, and the ten cords, passing

under the floor of the stage, terminated at a keyboard. Various ingenious
automata were actuated by this means of transmitting motion.” The
consoles were nothing more than shallow wooden boxes with openings
through the side scenes. The tops of the consoles were perforated with traps.
Any object which the wizard desired to work off secretly to his confederate
behind the scenes was placed on one of these traps and covered with a
paper, metal cover, or a handkerchief. Touching a spring caused the article
to fall noiselessly through the trap upon cotton batting, and roll into the
hands of the conjurer’s alter ego, or concealed assistant.
Let us now look at some of the illusions of the classic prestidigitateur of
France. By far his best and greatest invention is the “light and heavy chest,”
of which he himself wrote: “I do not think, modesty apart, that I ever
invented anything so daringly ingenious.” The conjurer came forward with
a little wooden box, to the top of which was attached a metal handle, and
remarked as follows to the audience: “Ladies and gentlemen, I have here a
cash box which possesses some peculiar qualities. I place in it, for example,
a lot of bank-notes, for safe-keeping, and by mesmeric power I can make
the box so heavy that the strongest man cannot lift it. Let us try the
experiment.” He placed the box on the run-down, which served as a means
of communication between the stage and the audience, and requested the
services of a volunteer assistant.
When the latter had satisfied the audience that the box was almost as light
as a feather, the conjurer executed his pretended mesmeric passes, and bade
the gentleman lift it a second time. But try as he might, with all his strength,
the volunteer would prove unequal to the task. Reverse passes over the
demon box restored it to its pristine lightness. This extraordinary trick is
performed as follows: Underneath the cloth cover of the run-down, at a spot
marked, was a powerful electro-magnet with conducting wires reaching
behind the scenes to a battery. At a signal from the magician a secret
operator turned on the electric current, and the box, which had an iron
bottom, clung to the electro-magnet with supernatural attraction. It is
needless to remark that the bottom of the cash box was painted to represent
mahogany, so as to correspond with the top and sides.
The phenomena of electro-magnetism were entirely unknown to the general
public in 1845, when this trick of the spirit cash-box was first presented. As

may be well imagined, it created a profound sensation. When people
became more enlightened on the subject of electricity, Houdin added an
additional effect, in order to throw the public off the scent as to the
principle on which the experiment was based. After first having exhibited
the trick on the “run-down,” he hooked the box to one end of a rope which
passed over a pulley attached to the ceiling of the hall. Several gentlemen
were now invited to hold the disengaged end of the rope. They were able to
raise and lower the box with perfect ease, but at a wave of the magician’s
wand the little chest descended slowly to the floor, lifting off their feet the
spectators who were holding the rope, to the astonishment of everyone. The
secret lay in the pulley and block. The rope, instead of passing straight over
the pulley, in on one side and out on the other, went through the block and
through the ceiling, working over a double pulley on the floor above, where
a workman at a windlass held his own against the united power of the five
or six gentlemen below. It is a simple mechanical principle and will be
easily understood by those acquainted with mechanical power.
Houdin’s orange tree, that blossomed and bore fruit in sight of the audience,
was a clever piece of mechanism. The blossoms, constructed of tissue
paper, were pushed up through the hollow branches of the tree by the
pistons rising in the table and operating against similar pistons in the
orange-tree box. When these pedals were relaxed the blossoms disappeared
and the fruit was gradually developed—real fruit, too, which was
distributed among the spectators. The oranges were stuck on iron spikes
affixed to the branches of the tree and hid from view by hemispherical wire
screens painted green and secreted by the leaves. When these screens were
swung back by pedal play the fruit was revealed. In performing this illusion
Houdin first borrowed a handkerchief from a lady in the audience, and
caused it to pass from his hand into an orange left on the tree. When the
disappearance was effected, the fruit opened, revealing the handkerchief in
its center. Two mechanical butterflies, exquisitely made, then took the
delicate piece of cambric or lace and flew upwards with it. The
handkerchief of course was exchanged in the beginning of the trick for a
dummy belonging to the magician. It was worked into the mechanical
orange by an assistant, before the tree was brought forward for exhibition.
Houdin was very fond of producing magically bon-bons, small fans, toys,
bouquets, and bric-à-brac from borrowed hats. These articles he distributed

with liberal hand among the spectators, exclaiming: “Here are toys for
young children and old.” There was always a great scramble for these
souvenirs. The conjurer found time to edit and publish a small comic
newspaper, “Cagliostro,” copies of which were handed to every one in the
theatre. The contents of this journal pour rire were changed from evening
to evening, which entailed no small labor on the part of the hard-worked
prestidigitateur. It was illustrated with comic cartoons, and was eagerly
perused between the acts.
Here is one of Houdin’s bon mots: Le Ministre de l’Intérieur ne recevra pas
demain, mais le Ministre des Finances recevra tous les jours ... et jours
suivants.
The crowning event of Houdin’s life was his embassy to Algeria to
counteract the influence of the Marabout priests over the ignorant Arabs.
The Marabouts are Mohammedan miracle workers, and are continually
fanning the flames of rebellion and discontent against French domination.
The French Government invited Robert-Houdin to go to Algeria and
perform before the Arabs in order to show them that a French wizard was
greater than a Marabout fakir. It was pitting Greek against Greek! The
marvels of optics, chemistry, electricity, and mechanics which Houdin had
in his repertoire, coupled with his digital dexterity, were well calculated to
evoke astonishment and awe. How well the famous French wizard
succeeded in his mission is a matter of history. A full account of his
adventures among the Arabs is contained in his memoirs and makes very
entertaining reading. After his successful embassy to the land of the white
bournous and turban, Houdin returned to France and settled down at St.
Gervais near Blois, giving his time to electrical studies and inventions.
He received several gold medals from the French Government for the
successful application of electricity to the running of clocks. The conjurer’s
house was a regular Magic Villa, being full of surprises for the friends who
visited the place. There were sliding panels in the walls, trap doors,
automatons in every niche, descending floors, and electric wires from attic
to cellar. Houdin died at St. Gervais in June, 1871. His son-in-law, M.
Hamilton, continued to carry on the Temple of Enchantment at Paris, and at
the present time there is a little theater on the Boulevard des Italiens called
“Théâtre Robert-Houdin,” where strolling conjurers hold forth. It was a

great disappointment to Houdin when his two sons refused to take up magic
as a profession; one entered the French army, and the other became a
watchmaker.

V.

One of the best sleight-of-hand artists that ever lived was Carl Herrmann,
who styled himself the “Premier Prestidigitateur of France and First
Professor of Magic in the World.” He died at Carlsbad, June 8, 1887, at the
advanced age of seventy-two. Of him Burlingame says: “Without using
much mechanical or optical apparatus, he produced many wonderful effects
by a sharp observation of the absence of mind of the human auditor,
assisted by a hand as firm as steel and capable of the most deft movement.”
Carl Herrmann traveled extensively, and many conjurers adopted his name
as a nom de théâtre. Magicians seem to have a penchant for this sort of
thing, as witness the case of Signor Blitz. Antonio Blitz, a very clever
performer, no sooner arrived in the United States than imitators sprang up
like mushrooms in a single night. In his “Fifty Years in the Magic Circle,”
he gives a list of eleven of these impostors, who not only had the
impudence to assume his name, but circulated verbatim copies of his
handbills and advertisements—
Signor Blitz.
Signor Blitz, Jr.
Signor Blitz, The Original.
Signor Blitz’s Son.
Signor Blitz’s Nephew.
Signor Blitz, The Great.
Signor Blitz, The Wonderful.
Signor Blitz, The Unrivaled.
Signor Blitz, The Mysterious.
Signor Blitz, By Purchase.
Signor Blitz, The Great Original.
A clever entertainer was Robert Heller. He was a magician, a mimic, and a
musician—a combination of talents rarely seen in one individual. He was,

indeed, the Admirable Crichton of fantaisistes. As a pure sleight-of-hand
artist, Heller was not the equal of some of his contemporaries, but he made
up for all deficiencies in this respect by his histrionic abilities. By the power
of his address and wit he invested the most insignificant feats of
legerdemain with a peculiar charm. In this regard he was like Robert-
Houdin. Robert Heller, or Palmer, was born in London, in the year 1833.
Early in life he manifested a unique talent for music, and won a scholarship
at the Royal Academy of Music at the age of fourteen. Having witnessed
several performances of the conjurer Houdin, in London, he became
enamored of magic, and devoted his time to perfecting himself in the art of
legerdemain, subsequently traveling around giving entertainments in the
English provinces. In the year 1852 he made his bow to a New York
audience at the Chinese Assembly Rooms, on which occasion he wore a
black wig and spoke with a decided Gallic accent, having come to the
conclusion that a French prestidigitateur would be better received in the
United States than an English wizard. I have this on the authority of Henry
Hatton, the conjurer, who wrote an article on Heller’s “second-sight” trick
for the “Century Magazine” some years ago. Hatton also says that Heller
began his magical soirée with an address in the French language. Not
meeting with the desired financial success, Heller abandoned conjuring, and
settled in Washington, D. C., as a teacher of the piano and organist of one of
the large churches of the city. Eventually he married one of his music
pupils, a Miss Kieckhoffer, the daughter of a wealthy German banker, and
abandoned music for magic. He went to New York, where he opened
Heller’s Hall, in a building which then stood opposite Niblo’s Garden, on
Broadway. His second début as a conjurer was an artistic and financial
success. After a splendid run in New York he returned to London, opening
what is now Pool’s Theater. Subsequently he visited Australia, India, and
California, returning to New York in 1875. He died November 28, 1878, at
the Continental Hotel, Philadelphia, at the height of his fame. Like most of
his confrères, Heller was a clever advertiser. His theatrical posters usually
bore the following amusing verse:

“Shakespeare wrote well,
Dickens wrote Weller;
Anderson was ——,
But the greatest is Heller.”

His entertainments consisted of magic, music, and an exhibition of
pretended clairvoyance. Those who were not interested in his feats of
legerdemain flocked to hear his superb performances on the piano.
Heller, like Houdin, made great use of electricity in his magical séances.
Many of his electrical tricks were of his own invention. In his will he
directed his executors to destroy all of his apparatus, so that it might not
come into the possession of any other conjurer.
The most popular performer in this country was Alexander Herrmann, a
European by birth, but an American by adoption. I am indebted to Mr. Wm.
Robinson, for years an assistant to Herrmann, for the following account of
the great conjurer’s career:
“The late Alexander Herrmann was born in Paris, France, February 11,
1843, and died in his private car on December 17, 1896, while en route
from Rochester, N. Y., to Bradford, Pa. He came of a family of eminent
prestidigitateurs, his father, Samuel Herrmann, being the most famous
conjurer of his day. Samuel Herrmann was a great favorite with the Sultan
of Turkey, who frequently sent for him to give entertainments in the royal
palace at Constantinople.

ALEXANDER HERRMANN.

“The next in the family to wield the magic wand was Carl Herrmann, who
was the first of the Herrmanns to visit America, and the first to use and
introduce the name ‘prestidigitateur’ in this country. Carl, Alexander’s
eldest brother, achieved great success in the world of magic. He died June
8, 1887, at Carlsbad, Germany, possessed of a large fortune. There were
sixteen children in the Herrmann family, Carl being the eldest, and
Alexander the youngest. After Carl adopted magic as a profession, the
father abandoned it, and began the study of medicine. It was the father’s
fondest hope that Alexander, his favorite son, should be a physician, but
fate decreed otherwise. Alexander’s whole desire and ambition was to
become a magician like his father and his brother. He persuaded his brother
to take him as an assistant. One day young Alexander was missing from the
parental roof; he had been kidnapped and taken away by Carl, with whom
he made his first public appearance, at the age of eight, at a performance in
St. Petersburg, Russia. Even at that early age his great dexterity, ingenuity,
and presence of mind were simply marvelous. The sudden appearance of

the father dispelled the visions of the embryonic magician, and he was
compelled to return home. But the youth’s attention could not be diverted
from his purpose, and again he became his brother’s assistant. This time,
the father compromised by consenting to Alexander’s remaining on the
stage, provided his education were not neglected. Carl engaged two
competent tutors to travel with the company and instruct the young prodigy.
For six years the brothers worked together, visiting Spain, France,
Germany, Russia, and the surrounding countries. Again the parents claimed
Alexander, and placed him in the University of Vienna. At the age of
sixteen, the old desire and fascination took possession of him. He accepted
his brother’s proposal to make a tour of the world, and ran away from home
and studies. Their first appearance in America was at the Academy of
Music, New York, Monday, September 16, 1861. Their last joint
engagement was in this country in the year 1869. On the opening night, in
New York, Monday, September 20, Carl introduced Alexander to the
audience as his brother and successor. When this engagement terminated,
the brothers separated; Carl made a short tour of this country, but Alexander
went to Europe, where he appeared in the principal cities, subsequently
visiting the Brazils and South America. After that he made a remarkable run
of one thousand performances at the Egyptian Hall, London, England. From
England he returned to the United States in the year 1874, and from that
period made this country his home, becoming a naturalized citizen in
Boston, 1876. His career as a magician was one uninterrupted success. The
many lengthy and favorable notices of him in the leading journals of this
country, immediately after his death, showed that he was regarded as a
public character.
“Herrmann bore a remarkable resemblance to ‘His Satanic Majesty,’ which
he enhanced in all possible ways, in recognition of human nature’s belief in
the superhuman powers of the arch enemy. Despite this mephistophelian
aspect, his face was not forbidding; his manner was ever genial and kind.
‘Magicians are born, not made’ was a favorite paraphrase of his, and Dame
Nature certainly had him in view for one when she brought him to this
sphere.
“His success lay in his skill as a manipulator, in his witty remarks and ever-
running fire of good-natured small talk. He was a good conjurer, a clever
comedian, and a fine actor. His ‘misdirection,’ to use a technical expression,

was beyond expression. If his luminous eyes turned in a certain direction,
all eyes were compelled (as by some mysterious power) to follow, giving
his marvelously dexterous hands the better chance to perform those tricks
that were the admiration and wonder of the world.
“Alexander Herrmann’s pet hobby was hypnotism, of which weird science
he was master, and to its use he attributed many of his successful feats. His
great forte was cards; he was an adept in the ordinary tricks of causing
cards to disappear, and reappear from under some stranger’s vest or from a
pocket. With the greatest ease and grace, he distributed cards about a
theater, sending them into the very laps and hands of individuals asking for
them. On one occasion he gave a performance before Nicholas, the Czar of
all the Russians. The Czar complimented the conjurer upon his skill, and
decorated him, at the same time smilingly remarking: ‘I will show you a
trick.’ The Czar tore a pack of cards into halves, and good-humoredly
asked: ‘What do you think of that? Can you duplicate it?’ His surprise was
great to see Herrmann take one of the halves of the pack and tear it into
halves. Herrmann was as clever with his tongue as with his hands, having
mastered French, German, Spanish, Italian, Russian, Dutch, and English.
He also had a fair knowledge of Portuguese, Chinese, Arabic, and Swedish.
“He was decorated by almost every sovereign of Europe, and many of them
gave him jewels. The King of Belgium and the late King of Spain each
presented him with a cross; there was a ring from the King of Portugal, one
from the Prince of Wales, and various other gems.
“At private entertainments and clubs Herrmann was especially felicitous as
a prestidigitateur. I will enumerate a few of his numberless sleight-of-hand
tricks: He would place a wine glass, full to the brim with sparkling wine, to
his lips, when suddenly, to his apparent surprise and consternation, the glass
of wine would disappear from his hand and be reproduced immediately
from some bystander’s coat-tail pocket. He would place a ring upon the
finger of some person, and immediately the ring would vanish from sight. A
silver dollar would change into a twenty-dollar gold piece. A magnum
bottle of champagne, holding about two quarts, would disappear, to
reappear from under a gentleman’s coat. He was a capital ventriloquist, an
imitator of birds, and quite clever at juggling and shadowgraphy, but he did
not exhibit these talents in public.

“The lines in Herrmann’s hands were studies for adepts in chirography.
There were three lines of imagination, instead of one, which indicates an
imaginative faculty little less than miraculous, and denotes a generous
heart, genius for friendship, a determined nature, and an artistic
temperament. The accompanying impression of his right hand, taken a few
days after he died, represents a short hand, owing to the fact that in death
the fingers had curled inward somewhat. In life his hands were long,
slender, and tapering.”

IMPRESSION OF HERRMANN’S HAND

Leon Herrmann, a nephew of the great Herrmann, is now performing in the
United States with success. In personal appearance he resembles his uncle.
He is very clever at palmistry—the cardinal principle of conjuring.

One of the most original and inventive minds in the domain of conjuring is
M. Bautier de Kolta, a Hungarian, who resides in Paris. He is almost a
gentleman of leisure, and only appears about three nights in a week. He is
the inventor of the flying bird cage, the cocoon, the vanishing lady, and the
trick known as the “black art,” reproduced by Herrmann and Kellar.
In England, the leading exponent of the magic art is J. N. Maskelyne, who
has held forth at Egyptian Hall, London, for many years. He has done more
to unmask bogus spirit mediums than any conjurer living. Apprenticed like
Houdin to a watchmaker, Maskelyne became acquainted with mechanics at
an early age. He is the inventor of some very remarkable automata and
illusions, for example “Psycho” and the “Miracle of Lh’asa.” At the
juggling feat of spinning dessert plates he has but few rivals. To perform
this requires the greatest skill and delicacy.
One of the best performers in the United States of anti-spiritualistic tricks
and mind-reading experiments is Mr. Harry Kellar, a Pennsylvanian, who at
one time in his career acted as assistant to the famous Davenport Brothers,
spirit mediums. Kellar is exceedingly clever with handkerchief tricks, and
his “rose-tree” feat has never been surpassed for dexterous and graceful
manipulation. Like Houdin, De Kolta, and Maskelyne, he is an inventor,
always having some new optical or mechanical illusion to grace his
entertainments.
Of late years he has made the fatal mistake of exposing the methods of
palmistry to the audience, thereby offending one of the cardinal principles
of the art of legerdemain—never explain tricks, however simple, to the
spectators. People go to magical entertainments to be mystified by the
pretended sorcery of the magician, and when they learn by what absurdly
simple devices a person may be fooled, they look with indifference at the
more ambitious illusions of the performer. Palmistry is the very foundation
stone of prestidigitation. No magician, unless he confines himself to
mechanical tricks, can do without it in a performance.
Last but not least in the list of modern fantaisistes is the French entertainer,
M. Trewey, an exceedingly clever juggler, sleight-of-hand artist, and
shadowgraphist.

VI.

In his advertisements, Robert-Houdin was extremely modest. His
successors in the art magique, however, have not imitated him in this
respect. We have Wizards of the North, South, and West, White and Black
Mahatmas, Napoleons of Necromancy, Modern Merlins, etc. Anderson, the
English conjurer, went to the extreme in self-laudation, but managed to
draw crowds by his vainglorious puffery and fill his coffers with gold,
though he was but an indifferent performer. The following is one of his
effusions:
“Theatre Royal, Adelphi ——. The greatest wonder at present in London is
the Wizard of the North. He has prepared a Banquet of Mephistophelian,
Dextrological, and Necromantic Cabals, for the Wonder seekers of the
approaching holidays. London is again set on fire by the supernatural fame
of the eximious Wizard; he is again on his magic throne; he waves his
mystic scepter, and thousands of beauty, fashion, and literature, rush as if
charmed, or spell-commanded, to behold the mesteriachist of this age of
science and wonder! Hundreds are nightly turned from the doors of the
mystic palace, that cannot gain admission; this is proof, and more than
proof, of the Wizard’s powers of charming. During the last six nights,
12,000 spectators have been witnesses of the Wizard’s mighty feats of the
science of darkness, and all exclaim, ‘Can this be man of earth? is he mortal
or super-human?’
“Whitsun-Monday, and every evening during the week, The Great
Delusionist will perform his Thousand Feats of Photographic and Alladnic
Enchantments, concluding every evening with the Gun Delusion!!”
The Theosophical craze of recent years has had its influence on
prestidigitation. A modern conjurer who does not claim some knowledge of
the occult, or, at least, who has not traveled in the Orient, cuts but little
figure in public estimation. Every now and then some enterprising wizard
rushes into print and exploits his weird adventures in Egypt and India, the
birthplaces of magic and mystery. Every intelligent reader reads between
the lines, but the extravagant stories of Oriental witchery have their effect
on certain impressionable minds. The magician Kellar is a reputed Oriental
tourist. He has journeyed, according to his own account, in the wilds of

India, witnessed fakir-miracles at the courts of Mohammedan Rajahs,
hobnobbed with Mahatmas in Tibetan lamaseries, and studied the black,
blue, and white art in all its ramifications. In one of his recent
advertisements he says: “Success crowns the season of Kellar, the Great
American Magician. His Oriental magic, the result of years of original
research in India, enables him to present new illusions that are triumphs of
art, and attract enormous houses—dazing, delighting, dumbfounding, and
dazzling theater-goers.”

BOOK I.
CONJURERS’ TRICKS AND STAGE ILLUSIONS.

CHAPTER I.
MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCES.

The fascination which the general public finds in clever tricks and illusions
is little to be wondered at, but it is a mistake to suppose that all the outfit
which the modern magician needs is a few paper roses, a pack of cards,
some coins, and a wand. The fact of the matter is, that usually the most
entertaining tricks are those which are produced at considerable expense in
the way of apparatus and stage fittings. It is for this very reason that the
secret of the illusion is always so closely guarded by the prestidigitateur.
After a series of sleight-of-hand tricks the magician usually leads up to
what might be called “set pieces” in contradistinction to the sleight-of-hand
tricks. Chief among the more important illusions are the wonderful cabinets
and other articles of furniture which enable the wizard to make away with
his assistants. We will describe a number of these arrangements for
“mysterious disappearances” before proceeding with the mirror and other
optical tricks to which the fin de siècle magician is so largely indebted. All
of these illusions, as they depend upon pre-arranged machinery, afford an
introduction to the tricks which, though much simpler, require a certain
amount of aptness in manipulation.

“VANITY FAIR.”

The first illusion presents the disappearance of a lady, apparently through a
solid looking glass. The method used is remarkably ingenious.

A large pier glass in an ornamental frame is wheeled upon the stage. The
glass reaches down within about two feet of the floor, so that every one can
see under it. The only peculiarities which a skilled observer would be apt to
notice are a wide panel extending across the top of the frame and a bar
crossing the glass some four feet from the floor. The first is ostensibly for
artistic effect—it really is essential to the illusion. The horizontal piece
purports to be used in connection with a pair of brackets to support a glass
shelf on which the lady stands—it also is essential to the illusion.

SCREENING THE LADY.

Brackets are attached to the frame, one on each side, at the level of the
transverse piece, and a couple of curtains are carried by curtain poles or
rods extending outward from the sides of the frame. Across the ends of the
brackets a rod or bar is placed and a plate of glass rests as a shelf with one
end on the rod and the other on the horizontal piece, thus impressing upon
the audience the utility of the crosspiece. Its real function is not revealed.

A lady steps upon the shelf, using a step-ladder to reach it. She at once turns
to the glass and begins inspecting her reflection. The exhibitor turns her
with her face to the audience and she again turns back. This gives some
byplay, and it also leaves her with her back to the audience, which is
desirable for the performance of the deception. A screen is now placed
around her. The screen is so narrow that a considerable portion of the mirror
shows on each side of it. All is quiet for a moment, and then the screen is
taken down and the lady has disappeared. The mystification is completed by
the removal of the portable mirror, it being thus made evident that the
performer is not hidden behind it.

THE DISAPPEARANCE EXPLAINED.

Two of our cuts illustrate the performance as seen by the audience, the
second explains the illusion. The mirror is really in two sections, the
apparently innocent crossbar concealing the top of the lower one. The large
upper section is placed just back of the lower piece, so that its lower end

slides down behind it. This upper section moves up and down in the frame
like a window sash, and to make this possible without the audience
discerning it the wide panel across the top of the frame is provided. When
the glass is pushed up, its upper portion goes back of the panel, so that its
upper edge is concealed.
Out of the lower portion of the same mirror a piece is cut, leaving an
opening large enough to admit of the passage of the person of the lady. The
second cut, with this description, explains everything. The mirror as
brought out on the stage has its large upper section in its lowest position.
The notched portion lies behind the lower section, so that the notch is
completely hidden from the audience. When the glass shelf is put in place,
the performer steps upon it and is screened from view. The counterpoised
glass is raised like a window sash, exposing the notch. The screen is just
wide enough to conceal the notch, the fact that a margin of the mirror shows
on each side of the screen still further masking the deception. From the
scene piece back of the mirror an inclined platform is projected to the
opening in the mirror. Through the opening the lady creeps and by the
assistant is drawn away behind the scene; then the platform is removed, the
glass is pushed down again, and, the screen being removed, there is no lady
to be seen. The fact that some of the mirror was visible during the entire
operation greatly increases the mystery. The lady passes through the notch
feet foremost, and her position, facing the mirror, makes this the easier.

THE LADY HAS VANISHED.

“AFTER THE FLOOD.”

In this illusion the curtain rises and shows upon the stage what is to be
interpreted as a representation of Noah’s ark, a rectangular box with ends
added to it, which, curving upward, give it a boat-like aspect. It stands upon
two horses or trestles. The cut, Fig. 3, shows the ark in its entirety. The
exhibitor opens it on all sides, swinging down the ends and the front and
back lids, and raising the top as shown in Fig. 1. It will be noticed by the
observant spectator that the back lid is first dropped and that the assistant
helps throughout, the reason of which will be seen later. The skeleton or
frame of the structure is now disclosed and it is seen to be completely
empty. It is now closed, this time the back lid being swung into place last,
and all is ready for the flood. This is represented by the water poured in ad
libitum through a funnel inserted in an aperture in the upper corner. To the
audience it seems as if the ark were being filled with water. In reality, the

water simply runs through a pipe, carried through one of the legs of the
trestle, and so down beneath the stage. The management of the flood is
illustrated in our cut, Fig. 2.

THE ARK OPENED FOR INSPECTION.

THE FLOOD.

TAKING OUT THE BIRDS AND ANIMALS.

After the flood the exit of the animals from the ark is next to be attended to.
Opening windows in its front, a quantity of animals and birds are taken out
as shown in Fig. 3. Ducks, chickens, pigeons, cats, dogs, and a pig are
removed and run around on the stage or fly about, and it is wondered how
so small an inclosure could contain such a collection. It is also to be
observed that none of the animals are wet—the water has not reached them.
More, however, is to follow, for the exhibitor now lets down the front, and a
beautiful Eastern woman, Fig. 4, reclines gracefully in the center of the ark,
which has only room enough to accommodate her. Where the animals came
from, and how they and the woman could be found in the ark, which, when
opened before the audience, seemed completely empty, and how they
escaped the water, are the mysteries to be solved.

THE LADY TENANT OF THE ARK.

Our cut, Fig. 5, completes the explanation. The ends which are swung up
and down in the preliminary exhibition of the ark are the receptacles which
accommodate the animals and birds. They are stowed away in these, are
swung up and down with them, and are taken out through apertures in their
fronts.

THE MYSTERY EXPLAINED.

The woman, the other tenant, is fastened originally to the back lid. When
the ark is opened for inspection, this lid is swung down, ostensibly to enable

the audience to see through the ark—in reality to prevent them from seeing
through the illusion. For, as stated, it is swung down before the front is
opened, and as it goes down the woman goes with it, and remains attached
to it and out of sight of the audience, who only see the rear side of the door
as it is lowered. Fig. 5 shows the rear view of the ark when open, with the
woman in place on the rear lid, and also shows the animals in place in the
side compartments.
The illusion is exceedingly effective, and is received with high appreciation
by the audience. To those who understand it, the performance is of
heightened interest.

“THE MAGIC PALANQUIN.”

The heroine in this play was presented on the stage in a palanquin carried
by four slaves. At a given moment the curtains were drawn and then
immediately opened, when it was seen that the actress had disappeared; and
yet the palanquin was well isolated on the shoulders of the carriers, who
resumed their journey and carried it off the stage.

THE MAGIC PALANQUIN.

This trick, which preceded by many years Buatier de Kolta’s experiment, in
which also a woman was made to disappear, but by an entirely different
process, as will be explained later on in this chapter, was performed as
follows: The four uprights arranged at the four corners of the apparatus
were hollow, and each contained at the top a pulley over which a cord
passed. These cords were attached by one end to the double bottom of the
palanquin, and by the other end to a counterpoise concealed in the canopy.
At the precise moment at which the curtains were drawn, the carriers
disengaged the counterpoises, which, sliding within the uprights, rapidly
raised the double bottom, with the actress, up to the interior of the canopy.
The person thus made to disappear was quite slender and took such a
position as to occupy as little space as possible. By making the shadows of
the mouldings of the canopy and columns more pronounced through
painting, and by exaggerating them, the affair was given an appearance of
lightness that perplexed the most distrustful spectator.

“CASSADAGA PROPAGANDA.”

One of the most mysterious among Kellar’s repertory of successful illusions
is the “Cassadaga Propaganda,” an explanation of which is herewith
presented.

THE CABINET OPEN FOR INSPECTION.

The effect as produced on the spectators will first be outlined. A sheet of
plate glass about sixteen by sixty inches in size is placed upon the backs of
two chairs, and on it is erected a small beautifully finished cabinet
consisting of four pieces, of which the sides are hinged to the back, and
which, with the front, are seen resting on a chair at the side of the stage.
When erected, the cabinet is forty-two inches high, thirty-six inches wide,
and fourteen inches deep.
Tambourines and bells are placed in the cabinet and the doors closed, when
the instruments instantly began playing and are then thrown out at the top of
the cabinet. The cabinet is now opened and found to be empty. A slate
placed in the cabinet has a message written thereon. In fact, all
manifestations usually exhibited in the large cabinets are produced, and yet
this cabinet is apparently not large enough to contain a person. We say
apparently not large enough; for, in reality, the whole secret consists in a
small person, or an intelligent child of ten or twelve years of age, being
suspended by invisible wires behind the back of the cabinet, where there is
a small shelf on which the concealed assistant is sitting Turkish fashion.
This folded cabinet is hung on two fine wires which lead up to the “flies”
and over rollers or pulleys to the counterweights. When proper wire is used
on a brightly illuminated stage the wires are absolutely invisible.

THE SPIRIT MANIFESTATIONS.

After showing the chairs and placing the glass plate upon them, the
performer picks up the folded part of the cabinet and places it on the glass,
the counterweights overcoming the extra weight of the concealed assistant.
He then opens out the sides, places the front containing the doors in
position, fastening same by hooks to the sides.
The inside of the cabinet and panels of doors are lined with pleated gold
silk. There is a concealed opening in the silk at the back of the cabinet, for
the assistant to pass his arm through, in order to handle whatever is placed
within it.
Everything being in readiness, the tambourine and bell are placed in the
cabinet and the doors are closed. The assistant now passes his hand and arm
through the opening in the back and shakes the tambourine, rings the bell,
and throws both out over the top of the cabinet. When the doors are opened
the cabinet is shown to be empty. Clean slates placed in the cabinet are
removed with messages written on them; in fact, the manifestations that can
be produced in the cabinet are limited only by the intelligence of the
concealed assistant.
One of the cuts shows the cabinet with open doors as seen by the audience.
The second cut is an end view looking from the side of stage, showing the
assistant on a shelf at the rear of the cabinet, and the wires leading up and
over to the counterweights.

CHEV. THORN’S MAGIC CABINETS.

The clever illusionist Chev. E. Thorn made great use of a variation of the
“Cassadaga Propaganda.” He used two cabinets, each large enough to
receive a person in an upright position. They were constructed of slats and
were provided with curtains. Screens of the same color as the rear of the
stage served to close the space between the slats. The magician deceived the
audience by walking behind the cabinet or cage as often as possible when
the screens were open so that the audience could see him through the slats.
The carpet on the stage, the back of the stage, and the screen were all of the
same shade of green.
The performers, usually a caliph and an odalisk, appear and disappear at
will, really taking up the place on the wooden stage at the back of the
cabinet. Usually two cages were used, one being suspended, and by the use
of confederates who were dressed alike some very clever illusions were
produced.
When the curtain rises the caliph stands on a little platform on the cage at
the left, hidden by the cage and the screens. Attention is then called to the

cage at the right whose screen is open so that the performer can be seen
when he passes behind it.
After the performer has demonstrated this he pulls down red silk curtains
over the side walls and the doors; the rear wall, however, remains
uncovered. Now a brilliantly dressed odalisk steps into the box at the left.
The doors have scarcely closed behind her when they open again, the
curtains fly up, and it is seen that the woman has disappeared, and in her
place stands a white-bearded caliph, while she appears at the rear door of
the parquette smiling behind her veil. She passes down through the
audience to the stage again. In the meantime the caliph has left the stage.
What follows is even more surprising. The curtains of both cages are pulled
down, the caliph goes into the cage at the left and the odalisk into that at the
right. The cage containing the odalisk is raised on a hoisting rope so that it
hangs in midair with the doors open. The doors are closed, a shot is fired; at
the same instant the doors of both cages spring open and the curtains are
raised; the odalisk has disappeared from the cage, which stands again on the
floor of the stage, but, at the same instant, she steps, as smiling as ever,
from the cage at the left, from which the caliph has vanished. The two cages
stand open and the audience can see right through them. The curtain falls
and the spectators rub their eyes in bewilderment.
The pulling down of the curtains serves to conceal the entrance of the caliph
in the box. When the odalisk is to vanish and the caliph to appear he slips in
from the board on the outside, while the odalisk takes her place on the
board behind the screen. The odalisk who appears at the door of the
auditorium and walks down through the audience is an exact double of the
real odalisk who is standing invisible behind the screen on the board of the
cage at the left. Owing to the peculiar costume of the odalisk this disguise is
rendered very easy. While the real odalisk is standing behind the screen on
the board of the cage at the left, the caliph installs himself in the cage. The
false odalisk is then raised in the air in the second cage, through which the
audience has been able to see up to this time. A shot is now fired and just at
that time the odalisk moves very quickly on a board behind the screen and
the cage is let down and stands firmly on the floor, at the same moment the
odalisk in the other cage changing places with the caliph. The swinging
cage appears to be empty and apparently the odalisk has passed through the

air to the other cage. The success of the trick depends upon making the
spectators believe that everything is done in cages through which they can
see.

“THE APPEARING LADY.”

Of the many new illusions recently presented in Europe, an ingenious one is
that of the appearing lady, the invention of that clever Hungarian magician
Buatier de Kolta.

TABLE READY FOR THE APPEARANCE.

On the stage is seen a plain round top four-leg table, which the magician
has been using as a resting place for part of the apparatus used in his magic
performance. Eventually, the performer removes all articles from the table
and covers it with a cloth that does not reach the floor. Our first engraving
represents the table in this condition. On command, the cloth gradually rises
from the center of the table as though something were pushing it up. In a
few moments it becomes very evident that some one, or something, is on
the table covered by the cloth. The magician now removes the cloth and a
lady is seen standing on the table, as shown in our second illustration.

THE APPEARING LADY.

The secret of this, as in all good illusions, is very simple, as the third
illustration will show. In the stage there is a trap door, over which is placed
a fancy rug that has a piece removed from it exactly the same size as the
trap, to which the piece is fastened. When the trap is closed the rug appears
to be an ordinary one. The table is placed directly over the trap. Below the
stage is a box, open at the top, with cloth sides and wood bottom. To this
box are attached four very fine wires, that lead up through the stage by
means of small holes where the trap and floor join, over small pulleys in the
frame of the table and down through the table legs, which are hollow,
through the stage to a windlass. In the table top is a trap that divides in the
center and opens outward. The top of the table is inlaid in such a manner as
to conceal the edges of the trap. The lady takes her place in the box in a
kneeling position, the assistant stands at the windlass, and all is ready. Fig.
1 of our third engraving shows the arrangement beneath the stage, and Fig.
2 the under side of the table top.

DETAILS OF THE APPARATUS.

The magician takes a large table cover, and, standing at the rear of table,
proceeds to cover it by throwing cloth over table, so that it reaches the floor
in front of the table, then slowly draws it up over the table top. The moment
that the cloth touches the floor in front of the table, the trap is opened and
the box containing the lady is drawn up under the table by means of the
windlass, and the trap closed. This is done very quickly, during the
moment’s time in which the magician is straightening out the cloth to draw
it back over the table. All that now remains to be done is for the lady to
open the trap in table and slowly take her place on top of the table, and
close the trap.
The top and bottom of the box by means of which the lady is placed under
the table are connected by means of three strong elastic cords placed inside
of the cloth covering. These elastics are for the purpose of keeping the
bottom and top frame of box together, except when distended by the weight
of the lady. Thanks to this arrangement of the box, it folds up as the lady
leaves it for her position on the table top, and is concealed inside of the
frame of table after her weight is removed from it. A somewhat similar trick

is called “The Disappearing Lady.” In this illusion the process is worked in
the reverse order.

“THE DISAPPEARING LADY.”

The accompanying figures illustrate a trick in which the prestidigitateur,
after placing a chair upon an open newspaper and seating a lady thereon,
covers her closely with a silk veil, and after the words “one, two, three,”
lifts the veil and shows that the lady has disappeared.

FIG. 1. FIG. 2.

The newspaper is provided with a trap, which is concealed by the printed
characters (Fig. 1). This trap is of the same size as the one that must exist in
the floor upon which one operates. As for the chair, that is generally an old
affair, without any cross rod in front (Fig. 2). It is provided with a movable
seat that lowers in order to allow the lady to pass between the two front
legs. It is provided, besides, with a frame of wire which is invisible on
account of the feeble diameter of the latter, and which, attached to the back,
is turned backward on the side opposite the spectator. As soon as the lady
who is to be made to disappear is seated (Fig. 3), she causes the frame to tilt

and cover her head and shoulders. This operation is hidden by the veil that
the prestidigitateur spreads out at this moment in front of the lady.

FIG. 3. FIG. 4.

At this instant the operator actuates a spring, which opens the trap in the
floor. The lady passes between the legs of the chair (Fig. 4), and then
through the two traps, the one in the paper and the one in the floor. As soon
as she reaches the floor beneath the stage she closes the trap in the
newspaper with gummed paper, and shuts the one in the floor, and it might
be thought that she was still on the stage, although she has disappeared. In
fact, the veil, on account of the wire frame, seems always to outline the
contours of the vanished subject.
After the operator has said “one, two, three,” he lifts the veil and causes the
wire frame to fall back.
Since this trick was first introduced it has been more or less perfected or
modified in its form, but the preceding description states the methods
generally employed in performing the trick. In some cases if the newspaper
is carefully examined, it will be found to be made of India rubber and to
contain a large rent at about the center. In the next chapter will be described
an interesting illusion called “She,” in which the lady disappears while
being supposed to be cremated. This ingenious trick depends for a portion
of the effect upon mirrors, so it is placed with the other illusions requiring
the aid of mirrors.

“THE MYSTERIOUS TRUNK.”

A trick known by the name of the Indian Trunk, the Mysterious Trunk, the
Packer’s Surprise, etc., formerly had much success in theaters of
prestidigitation. This trick, which may be presented in several ways, is
executed by different means, one of which we shall describe.
The following is in what the experiment consists: The prestidigitateur has a
trunk brought to him, which he allows the spectators to examine. When
every one is certain that it contains no mechanism, a person comes upon the
stage and enters the trunk. It is found that he fills it entirely, and the cover is
shut down. A spectator locks the trunk and guards the padlock.
The trunk is afterward wound in all directions with rope, the intersections of
the latter are sealed, and the whole is introduced into a bag provided with
leather straps, and which may in its turn be sealed at each of its buckles.
When the operation is finished, the spectators who have aided in the
packing remain on the spot to see that nothing makes its exit from the trunk,
which has been placed upon two wooden horses. The prestidigitateur then
fires a pistol over the trunk, which, when divested of its covering, ropes,
and unbroken seals, is found to be entirely empty.
The whole credit of the trick is due to the cabinet maker who constructed
the trunk. The latter, in the first place, is exactly like an ordinary trunk, and
the closest examination reveals nothing out of the way about it. Yet one of
the ends, instead of being nailed, is secured by a pivot to the two long sides,
so that it can swing. The swinging motion is arrested by a spring plate bolt.
When the person in the interior presses upon a point corresponding to this
bolt, the pivot turns freely and the end of the trunk swings.
The following is the way that the operation is performed in order that the
spectators may not perceive the opening of the trunk. The operator’s
assistant takes his place in the trunk, which is closed and locked and the
padlock sealed. Some obliging spectators then aid in tying the trunk, around
which the rope is passed twice lengthwise, beginning at the side opposite
the opening part. The rope is then passed over this part and runs in the axis
of the pivots. Then the trunk, for the convenience of tying, is tilted upon the

end where the rope passes. It is then that the assistant inclosed in the
interior presses the bolt. The end of the trunk then has a tendency to open,
and as the prestidigitateur has taken care to tilt the trunk at a carefully
marked point of the stage floor, the movable end meets in the latter with an
exactly similar trap that opens at the same time, and it is through these two
traps that the invisible vanishing takes place. As soon as the assistant has
passed through the trap, he pushes up the latter, and consequently the
movable end of the trunk, which closes upon its spring plate bolt.

THE MYSTERIOUS TRUNK.

The time that it takes the man to pass through the trap is insignificant, and
while the ropes are being crossed the operation might be performed several
times. Afterward, there is nothing to be done but to proceed with the
experiment as we have said, care being taken, however, not to abuse the
complaisance of the spectators, and not to allow them to try the weight of
the trunk.
When the vanished person descends beneath the stage, he is supported by
some other individual if the theater is not well appointed, and by a trap with
a counterpoise if the construction of the stage admits of it. This trap permits

of expediting things in certain cases of the reappearance of the confederate,
but is useless in the process described above.
Such is one of the artifices employed. Whatever be the process, the
presentation of it is often complicated by causing the person who has
vanished to reappear in a second trunk that has previously been ascertained
to be empty and that has been sealed and enveloped under the eyes of the
spectators. It will be easily comprehended that the operation here is
reversed, and that the confederate beneath the stage awaits the proper
moment to be lifted into the interior of the second trunk, whose movable
end is opened outwardly by the prestidigitateur at the desired moment.
Boxes with glass sides also have been constructed. The management is the
same, but, as the person inclosed is visible up to the last moment, care must
be taken to so pass the ropes as not to interfere with the trap of the trunk,
which then consists of one of the sides, and which operates at the moment
when the trunk, bound with ropes, sealed and laid upon this side, is about to
be wrapped up. This presentation has still more effect upon the spectators
than the preceding, and seems to present greater difficulties.

“THE INDIAN BASKET TRICK.”

Among the most remarkable experiments performed by prestidigitateurs
should be cited that of the Indian basket, which, as its name indicates, is of
Asiatic origin. Travelers in Hindostan have often told us that the Indians
practice this wonderful trick upon the public places. The Indian magician
makes use of an oblong osier basket provided with a cover. He takes a child
and incloses it in this basket, and around the latter buckles a belt. Grasping
a sword, he thrusts it into the basket here and there, and pulls out the blade
all dripping with blood.
The spectacle is shocking, and the feelings of the spectators become
wrought up to a high pitch. The magician then opens the basket, which, to
the surprise of all, is empty.
At a few yards distance cries are heard proceeding from the child who had
been inclosed in the basket, and who is now running forward sound and

happy. Robert-Houdin, who studied this juggler’s trick, explained it
perfectly, and was able to perform it himself. The basket used by the Indian
prestidigitateurs is represented herewith.
Fig. 1 shows the basket open ready to receive the child. For the sake of the
explanation we have cut away one end. This basket is provided with a
double movable bottom, A C B, the center of motion of which is at C. In
order to make the child disappear, the cover being closed, the top of the
basket is lowered by turning it toward the spectators (Fig. 2). But the
bottom, B, and the part A, that depends upon it, do not take part in this
motion. The weight of the child lying upon the bottom forces the latter to
remain in place, and by this fact the part A C shuts off the bottom of the
basket (Fig. 2).

THE INDIAN BASKET TRICK.

In order to turn the basket over, the Indian fastens it with strips of leather,
and, to facilitate this operation, places his knee on it. The child can then
easily hide himself under the robe worn by the magician. Replacing the
basket in its first position, the Indian inserts his sword and sticks the blade
into a small sponge fixed within and saturated with a red liquid. While the
attention of the spectators is absorbed by this exciting operation, the little
Indian escapes from beneath the robe, and runs a short distance from the
spectators without being seen. Houdin says that when this trick is well
performed, it has a startling effect. In all the preceding tricks the magician
has made way bodily with assistants, we now come to a case of mutilation
in which the luckless clown must suffer decapitation.

DECAPITATION.

The means employed in this illusion is the old-fashioned “defunct” method
of decapitation, and although this lacks the refinement and scientific interest
of execution by electricity, it has a certain precision.

A NOVEL STAGE TRICK—DECAPITATION.

The poor clown who suffers the death penalty twelve times a week usually
enters the circus ring, or appears on the stage, as the case may be, and after
performing certain acrobatic feats, commits some crime against his fellows,
for which he is condemned to die. He is placed upon the block; his head is
covered with a cloth. Harlequin approaches as executioner, and begins to
cut with a huge knife across the victim’s neck. In a moment all is over, the
cloth is removed, and Harlequin lifts in the air the severed head. Delighted
with his trophy, he carries it about under his arm, places it in a charger in
the center of the ring, and finally takes it back to the block wrapped up in
the cloth, and places it by the side of the headless trunk. He removes the
cloth, and then in sport places a lighted cigarette in its mouth. In a little
while you notice that the cigarette begins to glow, smoke comes from the
nose, and the eyes roll. Evidently the head has come to life. Not able to bear
the horrible sight, he throws the cloth again over the head, seizes it, places it
in its original position on the shoulders of the victim, kneads it to the body,
and suddenly the figure rises, head and all, and bows to the audience—an
orthodox clown. The trick is a good one, and takes with the audience. The
way in which it is done is explained in the second cut.

EXPLANATION OF THE DECAPITATION TRICK.

As soon as the clown lies on the box and his head has been covered with the
cloth, he passes his head through an invisible opening in the top of the box.
An assistant inside of the box passes up the dummy head, which is an exact
facsimile of the clown’s head and face. This is seized by Harlequin, who
makes such sport of it as he sees fit. When he places it by the side of the
trunk, in reality he passes it through an opening in the top of the box to the
assistant within, who substitutes his own head (which is painted to match
the other two) in place of it. The other steps in the performance readily
follow. The cloth which the harlequin always carries conceals all the sleight
of hand, and the whole performance is a series of surprises.
Another performance of a somewhat similar character was recently
performed at a theater in New York, in which a clown throws himself on a
sofa and is cut in two by a harlequin. One part of the sofa with the body
remains in one part of the stage while the other part with the legs and feet
(which are all the time vigorously kicking) disappear through a wing at the
other end of the stage. The action is very sudden and the effect startling. Of
course, in this case there are two men similarly dressed. The head and body
of one of them appears at the head of the sofa, while the body of the second
clown is concealed in the box under the seat at the other end of the sofa, the
feet and legs alone being exposed.

SPIRITUALISTIC TIES.

The following article is not written with the intention or desire to
antagonize any believer in Spiritualism, but merely to explain how anti-
spiritualists, as well as several professional “mediums,” secured their
release after being fastened in their cabinet. During the years the writer (Mr.
Caulk) has been before the public as a magician and cabinet performer, he
has met a number of cabinet test “mediums,” and can safely say that all of
these people who have come under his observation have been imposters.
This may be due, however, to the bad fortune of the writer.
The writer has been tied with ropes, fastened with handcuffs, brass collars,
and chains, many times in many different cities, and by people who were
just as alert as any investigator of spiritualistic phenomena, yet, unlike
many “mediums” he has met with, was never exposed.

The methods used are many, some simple, others complicated, but all
mystifying. To the average auditor the most wonderful point is, how does
the performer release himself after being so securely bound? For the benefit
of the curious the writer will explain a few of the methods by which he has
secured his release after being fastened by a committee from the audience.
All anti-spiritualists, as well as several “mediums” personally known to the
writer, make use of these same methods of release, or others founded on the
same principle.
Among the many successful rope tests, the following is about the best. A
piece of soft cotton rope about six feet long, and of the size known as sash
cord, is securely tied around the performer’s left wrist, dividing the rope so
that the ends will be of an equal length. When the committee is satisfied
that they have made the knots secure, the performer places his hands behind
him, with the right wrist resting over the knots on the left wrist, and the
ends of the rope are securely tied together, bringing the knots down tight on
the right wrist. This appears fair enough, but it is not as fair as it appears,
because, while the knots are secure enough, there is sufficient slack
between the wrists to enable the performer, by giving his right wrist a half
turn, to withdraw this hand from the rope encircling it.
The reader may say, “That is all well enough, but how and by what means
does he secure this slack?”

A ROPE TEST.

In placing his hands behind him after the rope is tied about the left wrist, he
gives the rope a twist and knot with over the other, pressing the twist down
on the knot and covering the twist and knot with the right wrist, which is
then tied. When ready to release himself, the performer gives his right hand
and wrist a half turn, releasing the twist lying on the knot, which thus
becomes a part of the loop tied around the right wrist, and enlarging it
sufficiently to enable the performer to pull the right hand free from the rope,
when he can perform any trick he chooses with the free hand. Our first and
second engravings show the formation of the twist, thus making the above
explanation clear. By replacing the hand in the loop and giving the hand a
half turn the knots can be shown as secure as when first tied.

EXPLANATION OF THE ROPE TEST.

The “Spiritualistic Post Test” is among the latest and most successful of
mechanical fastenings. A piece of wood four inches square and three feet
long is given to the committee, who bore a hole through it near one end, and
then pass an ordinary rope through the hole, tying a knot in the rope on each
side of the post, pressing the knots against the post so that the rope cannot
be drawn through the post. The ends of the rope are now unraveled, and the
post secured to the floor of the cabinet.

THE SPIRITUALISTIC POST TEST.
Enlarged illustration (300 kB)

The performer, standing behind the post, places his wrists against the knots
in the rope, one on each side of the post, and the unravelled ends of the rope
are bound around his wrists and tied securely, and all knots are sealed with
wax. A large nail is driven in the top of the post, to which are fastened cords
that are passed out through the cabinet and held by members of the
committee in order that they may know if the performer moves the post in
any manner during the performance of any test, such as the ringing of bells,
etc. Fig. 2 of our third engraving shows the performer tied to the post and
the committee holding the cords. The curtains of the cabinet are closed and
the usual manifestations take place.

Before the performance a hole is bored in the center of the end of the stick
or post, in which is placed a chisel-shaped piece of steel sharpened at the
lower end and blunt at the upper end, as shown in Fig. 3. The opening in the
end of the post is now carefully closed and all signs of such an opening are
concealed by the aid of glue, sawdust, and a little dirt rubbed over it.
When the committee are invited to bore a hole in the post, the performer
takes care to start the bit, in order that there will be no mistake about getting
the hole directly beneath the chisel concealed in the post. When the rope is
passed through the hole and knotted it is directly under the sharp edge of
the chisel, with a thin layer of wood between. When the nail is driven in the
top of the post it strikes the chisel, forcing it through the thin shell of wood
above the rope and through the rope, thus releasing the performer, who can
withdraw his hands from the post and do any trick he chooses, and when
finished, by merely replacing the ends of the rope in the holes from which
he removed them, and holding the hands tight against the post, can allow a
most rigid examination of the seals to show that it was not possible for him
to have released his hands, and the persons holding the cords that are
fastened to the nail testify that they did not feel any movement of the
performer or the post.
The Handcuff Test is a great favorite of the “medium.” In this test the
performer uses any pair of handcuffs furnished by the audience, and by
them put on him. Yet, in a very few moments after he takes his place in the
cabinet, his coat is thrown out, but on examination the handcuffs are found
to be on his wrists just as they were placed by the audience. As a final test,
the performer comes out of the cabinet holding the handcuffs in his hand,
removed from the wrist but locked.
The explanation of this trick is very simple, but, like many simple tricks,
very mysterious. There are only a few styles of handcuffs made in this
country, and all that a “medium” has to do is to secure the proper key for
each style, which keys are concealed about the person, and by the aid of
fingers and teeth the proper key can be fitted to the handcuffs. In some
types of handcuffs it is impossible to get the fingers to the key-hole. If such
a pair is placed on the performer and he cannot use his teeth to hold the key,
he slips the key in a crack in the chair or cabinet, which crack he makes

sure is there before undertaking the test, thus holding the key and unlocking
the handcuffs.
As the space allotted for this article is limited, the writer will explain but
one other piece of apparatus used to secure the “medium,” which is known
as the Spirit Collar.

THE SPIRIT COLLAR.

The collar is made of brass, and fits closely about the performer’s neck.
Through the openings in the ends of the collar is passed a chain, after the
collar is on the performer’s neck, and this chain is passed around a post,
carried back and through the padlock which is used to lock the collar. By
this arrangement the performer is fastened securely to a post, at least it
appears so to the audience. This collar is shown in our fourth engraving. As
seen by the cut, the collar is decorated with a number of small bolts, which
impart to it an additional appearance of strength.

These bolts are all false with one exception. This genuine bolt can be
removed by the performer when the collar is on his neck, thus allowing the
collar to come apart at the hinge, as shown in the cut, thus releasing the
performer, allowing him full liberty to perform any trick he wishes, and
permitting him to again apparently fasten himself securely. This loose bolt
fits so securely that there is no danger of any of the committee removing it
with their fingers. The performer uses a small wrench to remove the bolt.

CHAPTER II.
OPTICAL TRICKS.

The prestidigitateur has always been indebted more or less to the use of
reflection from mirrors and plate glass as an important adjunct in conjuring.
Many of the illusions in the succeeding pages have often been used as an
entertainment in themselves so that it might really be termed “side show
science.” Without doubt the most famous of all the illusions in which
effects of lighting are used is “Pepper’s Ghost” which was devised by that
eminent experimentor on physical and chemical science, John Henry
Pepper. There are a number of variations of the Pepper Ghost of which the
“Cabaret du Neant” is an excellent example.

THE “CABARET DU NEANT.”

The name “Cabaret du Neant,” or “Tavern of the Dead” (“non-existing”),
has been given by the proprietors to a recent Parisian sensation; it was also
exhibited in New York. The interest of course centers in the ghost illusion.
The spectators on entering the Cabaret pass through a long hall hung with
black and find themselves in a spectral restaurant. Along the walls coffins
are placed for tables, and on the end of each coffin is a burning candle.
From the center of the ceiling hangs what is termed “Robert Macaire’s
chandelier,” made to all appearances of bones and skulls. The spectators are
here at liberty to seat themselves at the tables and are served with what they
desire by a mournful waiter dressed like a French mourner with a long

crape streamer hanging from his silk hat. Around the walls of the room are
placed pictures to which the spectator’s attention is called by the lecturer.
Seen by the light of the room these pictures are ordinary scenes, but a new
aspect is given to each when lights directly behind it are turned on; the
figures in it appear as skeletons, each picture being in fact a transparency
giving a different effect as it is lighted from the rear or as seen simply by
reflected light. The second chamber is now entered; it is hung with black
throughout. On the walls tears are painted, and in close juxtaposition are
two somewhat incongruous inscriptions, “Requiescat in pace,” and “No
smoking.” The reason for the latter admonition, which is also given by the
lecturer, is that for the success of the illusion an absolutely clear atmosphere
is essential. At the end of this second chamber, at the back of a stage, is seen
a coffin standing upright, in which one of the audience is requested to place
himself. Entering the stage by the side door, he is conducted by an attendant
to the coffin and placed in it. Blocks of wood are placed for him to stand on
in quantity sufficient to bring his head to the right height so that the top of it
just presses against the top of the coffin, and the attendant with great care
adjusts his height according to the predetermined position. Two rows of
Argand burners illuminate his figure, which is then wrapped in a white
sheet. Now, as the spectators watch him, he gradually dissolves or fades
away and in his place appears a skeleton in the coffin. Again, at the word of
command the skeleton in its turn slowly disappears, and the draped figure
of the spectator appears again. The illusion is perfect to the outer audience;
the one in the coffin sees absolutely nothing out of the common. His
interest, if he knows what is going on, is centered in watching the changing
expression of the spectators, being increased by the fact that at their period
of greatest astonishment he is absolutely invisible, although directly before
them and seeing them more plainly than ever. After the restoration to life
one or more auditors are put through the same performance, so that the
recent occupant of the coffin can see what he has gone through.

THE SUBJECT AND HIS SKELETON.

THE SHEETED GHOST.

The third chamber is now entered, somewhat similar to the second, but on
its stage is a table and seat, all the walls being lined with black. One of the
auditors is invited to seat himself at the table on the stage. He does it, and,
as before, sees nothing. While the description of the lecturer and the
appearance and comments of the audience tell him that something very
interesting is going on, the remarks will probably disclose to him the fact
that this time at least he is never out of their sight. He leaves the stage and
his place is taken by another, and then he understands the nature of the
drama in which he has been an unconscious participator. He sees the other
spectator seated alone at the table. Suddenly a spirit, perhaps of an old man,
appears at the other side of the table, while a bottle and glass are seen upon
the table. When exhorted to help himself to the liquid, the performing
spectator’s idle gestures show that he certainly does not see the glass,
through which his hand passes unobstructed. Or perhaps it is a woman who
appears and makes the most alluring gestures toward him who never sees
her. This concludes the exhibition, which as accessory has the strains of a
funeral march, the ringing of deep-sounding bells as room after room is
entered, and the appearance of a brown-robed monk who acts as Charon to
introduce the spectator to his place in the coffin. In one of our illustrations
we show, side by side, the coffin with its living occupant draped in a sheet
and in the other the skeleton which appears in his place. Two other cuts
show the scenes between the spectator at the table and the specters,
illustrating how active a part the specters take, they being no mere painted
appearances, but evidently living, moving things. Our large illustration
shows precisely how it is done and so clearly that an explanation is hardly
needed. The floor of the stage is represented. To the left are seen the
spectators and the performer at the piano discoursing his lugubrious
melodies. To the right is seen Charon, and directly in front of him the coffin
with its living occupant. When lighted up by the burners shown near him,
the other burners being turned down, the coffin with its occupant is all that
is seen by the spectator. Directly in front of the coffin, crossing the stage
obliquely, is a large sheet of the clearest plate glass, which offers no
impediment to the view of the coffin with its occupant, when the latter is
fully illuminated. At one side of the stage, in the back of the picture, is a
painting of a skeleton in a coffin with its own set of Argand burners. It is
screened from view. When strongly illuminated, and when the lights of the
real coffin are turned down, the spectators see reflected from the glass a

brilliant image of the pictured coffin and skeleton. By turning up one set of
burners as the others are turned down a perfect dissolving effect is obtained,
skeleton replacing spectator and vice versa at the will of the exhibitor.

AN X-RAY ILLUSION UPON THE STAGE—CONVERSION OF A LIVING MAN INTO A
SKELETON.

THE FEMALE SPIRIT.

The magic lantern operator always realizes that to secure a good dissolving
effect perfect registration is essential. In the securing of this lies the secret
of the coffin exhibit of the Cabaret du Neant. By the blocks on which the
occupant of the coffin stands, and by the adjustment of his head by the
attendant, the head is brought into perfect registration with the reflected
head of the skeleton. The wrapping with the sheet, presumably the
enveloping in a shroud, is done with a purpose. It covers the body from the
shoulders down and extends to the very bottom of the coffin, covering the
blocks also, thus doing away with all defects of registration which would be
incurred in the persons of spectators of different heights. In other words, the
exhibition fits out everybody with a skeleton of precisely the same height,
however tall or short he may be, the draping of the sheet and accurate
position of the head concealing from the spectators this inaccuracy, the
skull occupying precisely the place of the head, the rest taking care of itself.
Still referring to the large cut, it will be seen that it serves to explain the
exhibition in the other chamber. Instead of the coffin there is the table and
chair, and in place of the pictured skeleton a live performer is placed. In this
act there is no dissolving effect; by turning up the lights at the side of the
stage any object desired and performers dressed as spirits are made to

appear upon the stage, being reflected from the glass plate. The spectators
simultaneously see their companion sitting at the table and the reflections of
the ghosts apparently executing their movements about him.
From the scientific as well as scenic aspect, the exhibition is most
interesting, and to one who knows how it is performed, the interest is vastly
enhanced. To properly enjoy it, the stage position should be taken during
one or both performances.

THE THREE-HEADED WOMAN.

THE THREE-HEADED LADY.

In this illusion the spectators are separated from the stage by a balustrade—
behind which is seen the curtain. In a few moments the latter is drawn back
and there is distinctly seen a woman’s body the lower part of which is
hidden by a basket of flowers. This body has three heads, one in the middle
and two others grafted at the base of the neck of the first. The heads move
their eyes, answer questions and sing, and finally salute the audience, and
the curtains are drawn together and the performance is over. As in many

tricks of this kind the showman usually announces that for an additional
admission the secret of the illusion will be divulged. The visitor then enters
the side scene and perceives that on the little stage where the phenomenal
woman just appeared, nothing is visible but a large plate of glass slightly
inclined towards the audience and its edges hidden by drapery. Behind the
mirror there is a recess whose sides are covered with a jet black fabric. In
front of the mirror on the stage sits the basket of flowers from which issued
the woman’s body. On an inclined board which rests against the screen or
balustrade lie three young girls; one of these, the middle one, is clothed in a
brilliant costume of light-colored silk, and it is she who in the exhibition
makes trunk, arms, and the middle head. The lower part of her body is
covered over with a black fabric and she is supported by a cushion which
permits the two other girls to place their necks closely against hers. The
bodies of these two girls at the sides are completely covered with fabric of a
dead black color. In front of these three young women are placed powerful
lights. The heads, hair, and arms of the “body” are covered with powder so
as to present completely white surfaces. All the white or light-colored
surfaces being strongly lighted by the lamps reflect the light; the image is
thus made upon the spectator.

“AMPHITRITE.”

This illusion, which is presented under the name of “Amphitrite,” is as
follows: When the representation is about to begin, the curtain of a small
stage rises. There is observed a circular aperture, cut in a screen, over which
is stretched transparent muslin.

AMPHITRITE.

About six feet behind the latter there is a scene representing the sky with
clouds; below, in the foreground, there is a canvas representing the sea.
“Amphitrite, come forth!” exclaims the person in charge of the show. All at
once, a woman in the costume of an opera nymph rises from the sea without
anything being visible to support her in space, in which she turns round and
round, gracefully moving her legs and arms, now in one direction, and then
in another. When the exhibition is at an end, she straightens out in the
position of a swimmer about to make a dive, and plunges behind the curtain
representing the ocean.

DIAGRAM EXPLAINING THE AMPHITRITE ILLUSION.

The illusion that we have just described may be performed as follows:
Amphitrite is an image—a specter analogous to those of Robin. If we
imagine that a transparent glass, M M, in our diagram, is inclined 45° with
respect to the stage, a person clad in light clothing, lying horizontally upon
a black background beneath the stage, and well illuminated, will exhibit an
upright image behind the glass. This image will appear to be formed in front
of the back canvas, T T. Now, as Amphitrite is lying upon a table, P P, she
will be able to go through her evolutions and bend herself in a circle; and if,
during this time, the table, movable upon its axis, A, is revolved, her image
will turn in all directions. Finally, to cause Amphitrite to appear or
disappear, it will suffice to slide the table upon rails, thus bringing it in front
of or behind the glass. Amphitrite should be placed upon an absolutely
black background. Her costume should be of a light color with metallic
spangles, and she should be illuminated by a powerful electric light.
The muslin stretched in front of the screen is designed to arrest anything
that jesters might throw against the glass, and which, sticking thereto might

explain a part of the mystery.

“THE MYSTERY OF DR. LYNN.”

In this illusion which was presented at the “Folies Bergères,” at Paris, the
stage is rather larger than in most of the talking heads and other analogous
tricks. At a short distance from the spectator is observed a woman cut off at
the thighs and resting on a small swinging shelf. The showman moves the
shelf laterally, and at a signal the exhibitor removes the shelf, and the half-
length body appears suspended in the air. The question which every visitor
asks is, where is the rest of the body? In many of the tricks of talking heads,
isolated busts, etc., the illusion is obtained by the aid of mirrors, but the
mystery of Dr. Lynn is obtained in a much simpler manner. All painters
know that in a very strongly lighted picture the bright colors stand out at the
expense of the half-tones and dark colors, and this effect is greater as the
light becomes brighter. It is upon this principle that the Dr. Lynn trick is
based. The lower part of the bust seen is a dummy upon which the upper
part of the woman’s body lies, the remainder of her body being extended
nearly horizontally upon a board which is capable of swinging and
following the motion of the shelf. All this portion is hidden by opaque black
drapery so arranged as not to reflect the light at any point. The bust and
shelf receive a very intense light; then immediately behind there is seen
intense darkness, forming an absolutely dark background. The latter is
rendered still darker by the brilliant cords of the shelf, a metallic chain and
a dagger suspended beneath it, as well as a white handkerchief which seems
to have been dropped upon the stage by accident. At least six powerful gas
burners or electric lights with reflectors are turned towards the spectators,
so that it will be seen that the latter are in a manner dazzled by everything
that strikes the eye in the foreground, and that beyond this they see
absolutely nothing but a black background.

THE ILLUSION EXPLAINED.

Another variation of the illusion of the “Decapitated Princess,” which will
be described later on, is obtained without the aid of mirrors. A young girl
appears before the audience, accompanied by an executioner clad in red,
and armed with the traditional axe of his profession. The curtain then drops,
and rises in a few moments, the stage being somewhat darkened. Near the
executioner can be perfectly distinguished the girl’s head lying on a round
table at the back of the stage. The body is seen lying on the bed a few feet
from her head and at her side is the fatal block that had served for
execution. The trick is the same as the preceding one; it requires, however,
two persons of the same size, wearing the same costume, to carry out the
illusion successfully. One of these, the one who shows herself to the public,
makes the head, her body being hidden behind the cloth in the rear of the
stage, which is in darkness, as has just been explained. The other, who
makes the body, has her head bent far back and hidden in a sort of box, a
false cardboard neck contributing to increase the illusion.

“BLACK ART.”

To the Yogi and Mahatmas of India, the magicians and illusionists of
Europe and America are indebted for the ideas of many of their best tricks
and illusions. While the published reports of many of the alleged marvelous

effects produced by the “wonder workers” of India must be taken with a
very large amount of salt, yet we must give these people due credit for
being the originators of many tricks from which the modern magician has
taken principles on which he has founded and created several of the
grandest and most successful illusions of modern times.
Take, for instance, the illusion known as “Black Art,” or the “Midnight
Mysteries of the Yogi,” made famous in this country by those master minds
of magic, Harry Kellar and the late Alexander Hermann. The weird illusion
is founded on an idea advanced by the Yogi of India.
No doubt nearly all of the readers of this article have seen “Black Art”
presented by one of the above named magicians, yet the number who could
advance a plausible explanation of how it was done, are very few, because
as soon as one thinks that he has discovered the secret, the performer
produces an effect in direct variance with the principle on which the illusion
appears to be founded.
In this illusion the entire stage from the first groove to the rear is hung with
black velvet, the floor covered with black felt, and the top is covered with
black velvet, thus forming a large room lined entirely in black. The regular
footlights are turned out, and a special set are used, that consist of a row of
open gas jets placed on a line with the boxes, and carried up the outside of
the black room, as shown in the large engraving.
The lights throughout the entire house are either turned very low or put out,
with the exception of the special lights mentioned above.

THE STAGE SETTING FOR BLACK ART.

The curtain rises, disclosing the black chamber. In a moment the magician
appears, dressed in a white suit; a wave of his hand, and a white wand
appears floating in the air, which the magician secures. A wave of the wand,
and a table appears on the right, then a second table appears on the left. A
large vase appears on one of the tables, and a second vase appears on the
magician’s outstretched hand. Both of the vases are shown and proven
empty, and in one is placed a few orange seeds, and the wand is passed over
the vase, which instantly becomes filled with oranges. The oranges are
poured into the second, then returned to the first vase, when they disappear
as quickly and as mysteriously as they appeared, and the vases are again
shown empty, and again placed one on each of the tables. A borrowed watch
is placed in one of the vases, from which it disappears and is found in the
vase on the other table. A life-size skeleton now appears and dances around
the stage, becomes dismembered, the separated parts floating about, but
they finally rearticulate themselves, and the skeleton vanishes. Now a rabbit
is seen in one of the vases, from which it is taken by the performer, and in
his hands it becomes two, which are tossed in the air and disappear.

AN ASSISTANT REMOVING THE TABLE COVER.

The number and style of tricks performed in the mysterious black chamber
are almost unlimited, but an explanation of the ones mentioned above will
suffice to show how “Black Art” is performed.
While the stage is draped in black, everything that appears is painted white,
and the magician is dressed in white. There is an assistant on the stage all
through the act, but as he is dressed in black, with gloves on his hands and a
hood over his head, made of black velvet, he is not seen by the spectators,
whose sight is somewhat dazzled by the open gas jets. The tables are on the
stage, but covered with pieces of black velvet, rendering them invisible. The
second engraving shows how the assistant removes the piece of velvet and
causes a table to appear at the magician’s command.

THE DISARTICULATED SKELETON.

The vases are also sitting on the stage, but covered with pieces of black
velvet. By picking up the covered vases the assistant can cause them to
appear, by removing the velvet, one on the table and the other on the
performer’s hand. The oranges are in a black velvet bag, from which the
assistant pours them into the vase. To cause the oranges to vanish, the
magician, instead of pouring them into the vase, pours them into the open
mouth of a large black bag held by the assistant just over the lower vase.
The transposition of the watch from one vase to the other is just as easy.
The assistant merely removes it from the vase in which the performer
placed it, and places it in the second vase. The manipulation of the rabbit is
equally simple. The assistant places the first one in the vase by means of a
black bag in which it was concealed, then places the second one in the
performer’s hands from a second small bag. In vanishing the rabbits the
performer merely tosses them up into a large open-mouthed black bag held
by the assistant.

THE JOINTED PAPER SKELETON.

The skeleton is made of papier maché, painted white, and fastened on a thin
board that is sawed to shape and covered with black velvet. One arm and
one leg are jointed so as to be readily removed and replaced by the assistant
when he is operating the skeleton. The last two illustrations fully explain
the method of construction and manipulation of the skeleton.
The tables are made either of wood or papier maché and painted white. The
vases are made of papier maché, painted white on the outside and black on
the inside. The reason the inside of the vases are painted black is to prevent
the hand of the assistant beings seen when he places it in the vase.
This is one of the most expensive of stage illusions, costing several hundred
dollars to properly stage it with the best drapery and accessories, and unless
such are used the proper illusory effect is lost. In magic as well as in other
business, cheap apparatus is dear at any price.

THE TALKING HEAD.

Probably the most common of all of the illusions which depend upon
mirrors is the Talking Head upon a table. The illustration is almost self-
explanatory. The apparatus consists only of a mirror fixed to the side legs of
the table. The mirror hides the body of the girl, who is on her knees and
seated on a small stool, and reflects the straw which covers the floor so as
to make it appear continuous under the table; likewise it reflects the front
leg of the table so as to make it appear at an equal distance from the other
side and thus produce the illusion of the fourth leg. It also reflects the end
of the red fabric hanging in front of the table and thus makes it appear to
hang down from behind. The visitor stands only a few inches away from the
table and head. Such proximity of the spectator and actor would seem to
favor the discovery of the trick, but on the contrary it is indispensable to its
success.

THE TALKING HEAD.

THE LIVING HALF-WOMAN.

THE LIVING HALF OF A WOMAN.

This illusion is a very ingenious improvement on the “Talking Head.” On
entering the small booth in which it is usually exhibited, we perceive an
elegant little room decorated with flowers and lights and hung with tapestry.
In front there are two railings and the floor is covered with a carpet. In the
center is seen a small table on which rests a kind of three-legged stool
supporting a cushion and the half body. The lady shows she has arrived by
moving her arms and head and speaking and singing. The visitor can see the
four legs of the table and can perfectly distinguish the space under the stool,
the whole scene being brilliantly lighted, contrary to the usual custom in
any such illusions. The secret of the illusion is as follows:
The stool is formed only of a hollowed out disk whose supports are
connected by two mirrors that make with each other an angle of forty-five
degrees. These mirrors rest on the top of the table which was decorated in
regular designs in mosaic and reflect the latter in such a way that they seem
to continue uninterruptedly under the stool. The table presents an analogous
arrangement, its side legs being connected with the middle one by two
mirrors. These mirrors reflect not only the designs of the carpet which by

their continuity produce the illusion of a vacancy, but also two table legs
located on each side behind the railing, as shown in our small engraving:
the mirror to the left transmits to the spectators on that side the image of the
leg placed on the left and this image seems to them to be the fourth leg of
the table. The mirror to the right plays the same rôle with regard to the
spectators on that side. These mirrors in addition hide the lower part of the
girl’s body.

EXPLANATORY OF THE HALF-WOMAN.

“SHE.”

During the season of 1891-92, among various interesting things to be seen
at the Eden Musée, perhaps the most interesting, and at the same time the
most scientific, was the weird spectacle entitled “She,” exhibited by Powell,
the well-known illusionist, and suggested by the Cave scene in H. Rider
Haggard’s celebrated novel “She.”

PREPARED FOR CREMATION.

THE ESCAPE.

THE BURNING.

In this scene a beautiful young lady mounts a table arranged in an alcove
formed by a folding screen. Above the victim is suspended a cylindrical
cloth screen. The screen is lowered to the level of the table, completely
inclosing the subject. The table apparently has four legs, and four candles
shown beneath it indicate that the space underneath the table is open and
clear. The cylindrical screen is shown to be entire, with openings only at the
upper and lower ends, and no openings are seen in the folding screen which
partly surrounds the table. Upon the firing of a pistol the occupant of the
table is ignited, and smoke and flame bursting from the screen indicate that
the work of destruction is going on within. When the fire is burned out the
screen is lifted, and nothing remains upon the table but a few smouldering
embers and a pile of bones surmounted by a skull. Close observation does
not reveal any way of escape for the young woman. It is, however, obvious
that the magician cannot afford to sacrifice such a subject every evening,
and the spectators are forced to conclude that the whole affair is a very
clever trick. In fact, it is simply a modification of the beheaded lady and

numerous other tricks based upon the use of plane mirrors. The table has
but two legs, the other two which appear being simply reflections. The
central standard supports but two candles, the other two being reflections.
Underneath the table, and converging at the central standard, are arranged
two plane mirrors at an angle of 90° with each other and 45° with the side
panels of the screen. By means of this arrangement the side panels, which
are of the same color as the central or back panel, are reflected in the mirror
and appear as a continuation of the back panel. The triangular box, of which
the mirrors form two sides, has a top composed in part of the table top and
in part of mirror sections for reflecting the back panel, or with a covering of
the same color as the back panel.

THE FINISH.

The operation of the apparatus is now obvious. When the victim is inclosed
by the cylindrical screen, she immediately escapes through a trap door in

the table top, places the bones and the fireworks upon the table, and at the
firing of the pistol ignites the latter and retires, closing the trap door after
her.

“THE QUEEN OF FLOWERS.”

MR. KELLAR’S ILLUSION, “QUEEN OF THE FLOWERS.”

One of Mr. Kellar’s recent illusions is what he is pleased to call “The Queen
of Flowers.” Our first engraving represents the stage as the audience sees it,
and the last cut will help to explain it to the reader. The background, set
against curtains, is about ten feet long and eight feet high, and represents a
mass of flowers and bushes indiscriminately thrown together, with blue sky
above. There is a little flat roof which projects out about three feet from the
bottom of the screen and is supported by four red poles. The bottom is a
floor raised about a foot from the stage, and in front of each of the three
divisions made by the poles between the stage proper and the floor of this
improvised summer house is placed an electric light. The audience usually
wonders what these lights are for in this strange place; but as audiences
always accept anything shown them by the prestidigitateur, these lights do

not disturb them very much except by dazzling them, as they are meant to
do. So much for the setting. There being no doors or screens or curtains of
any kind, the spectators have the satisfied feeling that there is no deception
there, for they can see all there is to see. They can, that is true, only they
don’t realize how much they are seeing.

ENTRANCE TO THE CABINET.

Mr. Kellar next brings a semicircular stand which he places in front of the
middle panel at the height of the floor. At the roof is fixed a brass rod in the
form of a semicircle, from which hangs a curtain inclosing the little stand.
This, however, cannot do much good, for, as Mr. Kellar says, those on the
extreme right and left of the audience can still see quite behind the curtain,
through the summer house, and they believe him, not only because he told
them so, but because they can see with their own eyes. What could be more
convincing! In a moment the curtain is withdrawn and a beautiful lady
surrounded by flowers is seen standing on the little platform.
The last engraving will explain matters. The lines extending from the two
center poles to the background represent double mirrors; that is, each mirror

consists of two mirrors back to back, running from the floor to the roof of
the summer house. On account of the indefinite arrangement of the flowers
painted on the back scene in monotonous design, the spectators do not
notice the mirrors. These, of course, form a passageway through which
anyone can walk from behind the scenes to the stand behind the curtain,
while the audience is still keeping guard with its ever watchful eye.

“THE DECAPITATED PRINCESS.”

ILLUSION OF THE DECAPITATED PRINCESS.

In this illusion the exhibitor states that it is the head of an Egyptian Princess
who was accused of treason and beheaded. The head is exhibited in a
curtained recess and it reposes upon two swords lying across the arms of the
chair. The chair is upholstered in red plush and is placed close to the curtain
at the back of the recess. At the back of the chair is an opening just below
the level of the tops of the chair arms. This opening is not seen from the
front, as it is concealed by a mirror that is placed between the arms of the
chair at an angle of 45°. The ends of the mirror rest in folds of the fan-shape
upholstering on the inside of the chair arms. The lower edge of the mirror is

resting on the bottom of the chair and the upper edge is concealed by laying
one of the swords on it, as may be seen in the other illustration. At the
proper angle the bottom of the chair is reflected in the mirror, leaving the
impression that one is looking at the back. The folds in the upholstering of
the inside of the arms effectually conceal the ends of the mirror. There is a
hole in the rear curtain directly opposite the hole in the chair back, through
which there passes a board supported at one end by resting on the seat of
the chair and at the other end by a small box or any convenient article.

THE DECAPITATED PRINCESS—EXPLANATION OF ILLUSION.

The lady who is to impersonate the princess takes her position on this board
with her chin just above the edge of the mirror, the second sword is placed
at the back of her head and a wide lace collar that she wears around her
neck is adjusted so as to rest nicely on the two swords. The second
illustration shows the board in position, passed through the curtain, with the
lady lying on it, her head on the swords and the lace collar in position. The
curtain in the rear must be close to the chair, but the side curtains are
removed about five feet. The board is padded so as to make the lady as
comfortable as possible.

“STELLA.”

AN ISOLATED HEAD IN THE CENTER OF A STAGE.

The following illusion is similar to the “Decapitated Princess.” A small
stage is partitioned off by curtains. In the center of the stage, suspended in
space, is a young girl’s head, the neck of which starts from a satin collar.
This head is isolated on every side. One sees the rear of the stage, the sides,
the top and the bottom, and the brilliant illumination leaves no portion in
shadow. The head speaks and smiles and finally blows out a lighted candle.
The exhibitor then disappears behind the side scenes with the candle. He
now, as it seems, draws out a panel in the back of the stage, and through the
aperture thus formed the spectator very distinctly sees the top of a table and
upon it a candle which the head has just extinguished. Now this aperture is
directly under the head, but much farther off, and is in the direction the
body would occupy if the head possessed one. The absence of the body is
therefore apparently demonstrated to the visitors.
The illusion was obtained by means of a simple mirror which starting from
the upper part of the back of the stage descended obliquely to the front. In
the center of this there was an opening which was concealed by the satin
collar and through this the young girl passed her head. The inclination of
the mirror was, in fact, indicated by a gold rod designed to hide the junction

of the mirror and the side. The arrangement will be better understood by
reference to the annexed diagram, which belongs to the same illusion, only
the clown is substituted for the girl’s head.
Now, by virtue of the optical law that “an object reflected from a mirror
appears to be behind the latter at a distance equal to that which separates it
from it,” every point of the line, M l, reflected from the mirror, P M, will
appear to be situated upon the line, M L.
So, to the spectator located at O, the point, c, reflected at C′ will appear to
be the point, C; the distance, c C′ equaling C C′. The point, l, reflected at L′,
will appear to be L. And it will be the same for all the intermediate points.
The spectator, then, will believe that he sees the line, M L, when in reality
he sees only the reflection of M l. Now, as we have just said, he will believe
that he sees the back of the stage, when, in fact, he sees nothing but a
reflection of the ceiling in the mirror. In the same way, the reflection from
the front of the ceiling will produce the illusion of the stage floor. This fact
still further contributes to increase the illusion, for the spectators are not
aware of the difference that exists between the arrangement of the place
where the bust appears and of that of the place where the showman is
walking.

DIAGRAM EXPLANATORY OF THE PHENOMENON.

In the illusion of “Stella” the aperture through which the table was seen was
in reality at the top. The table was vertical and the candle which was firmly
fixed to it was horizontal. The farce of blowing out the candle and carrying

it behind the scenes was only designed to make the spectators believe it was
the same candle that was seen at the rear of the stage, when in reality it was
only a duplicate.

HOUDIN’S MAGIC CABINET.

These apparatus were formerly much employed by magicians—Robert-
Houdin, for instance. The following is an example of one of the scenes that
may occur with them:
When the curtain rises, there is seen in the center of the stage a large, dark-
colored cabinet, ornamented with mouldings, and mounted upon legs that
are a little longer than those of ordinary cabinets, the object being to
remove all possibility of a communication with the stage beneath. These
legs are provided with casters. The showman turns this cabinet around and
shows that there is nothing abnormal about it externally. He then asks some
of the spectators to come up close to it, and lets them examine its interior,
which is entirely empty. There is no double bottom, nor any hiding-place.
When the witnesses have made themselves certain of this fact, they station
themselves around the stage, and a certain number of them even consent to
remain behind the cabinet and see nothing of the experiment. The cabinet
being thus surrounded on all sides, and every one being able to look under
it, fraud would seem to be an impossibility.
A young woman dressed as a danseuse then comes on the stage and enters
the cabinet, and the doors are closed upon her. In a few moments the doors
are opened again, when, lo and behold! the closet is empty, the young
woman having disappeared. Then the doors are closed again, and then
opened, and the danseuse makes her appearance; and so on. At the end of
the experiment the witnesses examine the cabinet again, and finding
nothing changed therein, are justly stupefied.
In another style of cabinet there is no bar in the center, as shown in our
engraving, but there is observed on one of the sides in the interior a bracket
a few centimeters in length, and, back and above this, a shelf. This
arrangement permits of performing a few experiments more than does the
one just described. Thus, when the woman has disappeared, the showman

allows a young man to enter, and he also disappears, while the young
woman is found in his place. This is a very surprising substitution.
The box into which the harlequin takes refuge, and which appears to be
empty when Pierrot or Cassandra lifts the curtain that shields its entrance, is
also a sort of magic cabinet.
In a series of lectures delivered a few years ago at the London Polytechnic
Institution, a professor of physics unmasked the secret of some of the tricks
employed on the stage for producing illusions, and notably that of the magic
cabinet. The lecturer, after showing the cabinet, and causing the
disappearance therein of an individual while the doors were closed,
repeated the same experiment with the latter open. But, in the latter case, so
quick was the disappearance that the spectators could not even then see how
it was done. The illusion produced by the apparatus is the result of a play of
mirrors.

MAGIC CABINET.

In the first cabinet described, when the exhibitor has closed the doors upon
the young woman, the latter pulls toward her two mirrors that are
represented in our plan of the cabinet by the lines, G G. These mirrors are
hinged at O O, and, when swung outward, rest by their external edges
against the bar, P, and then occupy the position shown by the dotted lines,
G′ G′. When the cabinet is again opened, the woman placed at A is hidden
by the two mirrors; but the appearance of the interior of the cabinet is not
changed, since the spectators see the image of each side reflected from the
corresponding mirror, and this looks to them like the back of the cabinet.

PLAN EXPLANATORY OF THE CABINET.

The illusion is perfect. When the experiment is ended and the mirrors are
again swung against the sides, at G G, the spectators see nothing but the
backs of them, which are covered with wood; the cabinet is really empty,
and no one can discover what modification has taken place in its interior
during the disappearance of the woman.
In the second arrangement, which is shown in vertical section in our last
engraving, the young man gets up on the shelf, c n, at the upper part of the
cabinet, by the aid of the bracket, T, and then pulls down over him the
mirror, b c, which was fastened to the top of the cabinet. This mirror, being
inclined at an angle of 45°, reflects the top, and the spectators imagine that
they see the back of the cabinet over the shelf, as they did before.

SECTION EXPLANATORY
OF THE CABINET.

The box which Harlequin enters is based upon precisely the same principle.
Its interior is hung with paper banded alternately blue and white. When
Harlequin enters it, he places himself in one of the angles and pulls toward
him two mirrors which hide him completely, and which reflect the opposite
side of the box, so that the spectator is led to believe that he sees the back of
it. In this case, one of the angles at the back of the box is not apparent, but
the colored stripes prevent the spectator from noticing the fact.

A MYSTIC MAZE.

We present an engraving of a very interesting optical illusion produced with
only three mirrors. By multiplying the mirrors the large number of different
effects can be obtained.
Let us imagine that three perfectly plain and very clear mirror glasses, as
large as possible, form a prism whose base is an equilateral triangle. A
person placed in the interior of this prism will see his image reflected a very
large number of times. A very simple geometrical construction, and one
which we recommend our young readers to carry out as an exercise in

optics, by the simple application of the principle that the angle of incidence
is equal to the angle of reflection, allows us to see that the image of any
point whatever placed in the center of this triangle of glass plates will be
reproduced indefinitely by groups of six images distributed symmetrically
around points regularly spaced in the prolongations of the planes of the
three glasses.
A person, therefore, sees his image reproduced indefinitely in groups of six
until, the successive reflections attenuating the intensity of the images, the
latter cease to be visible. Three or four persons massed in one of the angles
present the illusion of a compact and mixed crowd standing upon a
sidewalk and awaiting the passage of a procession. The hats waving in the
air convert the peaceful waiting into an enthusiastic manifestation, which is
so much the more surprising in that it is made by but half a dozen persons at
the maximum.
The accompanying figure gives an idea of this remarkable effect, and the
three persons, whose images reflected ad infinitum produce the curious
result that we call attention to, would have much trouble to believe that they
were the subject of an illusion.
Upon the whole, the experiment is nothing more than an application of the
principle of the old kaleidoscope enlarged and revived, in the sense that the
observer has before his eyes the successive reflections of his own image,
and that the objects are replaced with living beings movable at will.
Five or six persons may occupy, at the same time, the triangular prism, of
which the sides are about six feet wide, and which they enter through a trap
in the floor. When these five or six persons are walking about in all
directions, they present the aspect of a tumultuous and agitated crowd
commenting upon grave events.

AN OPTICAL ILLUSION PRODUCED WITH THREE MIRRORS.

PLATINIZED GLASS.

FIG. 1.

Platinized glass plates are no longer a novelty, but the illusion is very
effective. The mirrors give an image in the ordinary way when looked at by
reflected light, but are transparent when observed by transmitted light. The
metalization of glass with platinum was discovered a great many years ago
by the Messrs. Dodé. This property of transparency by transmitted light
affords a very clever surprise. The mirrors are set in frames. In a panel
behind the latter there is an aperture closed by a shutter. As the glass is
transparent there may be seen through it, when the shutter is open,
everything that is on the other side, so it occurred to the inventors to utilize
this transparency by placing an image or photograph between the panel and
the glass. On exposing the mirror to the light to look at one’s self in the
ordinary way, if the shutter is open, the human head will disappear and may
be replaced by the photographic portrait or a horned devil, which is placed
behind the mirror. In the illustration we illustrate the head of the devil
whose body is hidden by two mirrors inclined at an angle of forty-five
degrees, as in some of the illusions we have already described. As he moves

his head and smiles, the effect is rather startling. Electric light is used to
illuminate the trick.

FIG. 2.

STATUE GIVING A DOUBLE IMAGE.

At the Italian exhibition held a few years ago in the Champ de Mars, Paris,
there was a statue that attracted much attention from the visitors. It
represented Goethe’s Marguerite standing before a mirror. This latter gave
by reflection the image of Faust, as shown in our engraving. The artifice
was well concealed by the sculptor. In reality, it was not a double statue, but
the figure of Faust was skillfully obtained by means of the folds of
Marguerite’s robe.

MARGUERITE AND FAUST.

Marguerite holds her arms in front of her, and these same arms form those
of Faust, who holds them crossed behind his back. Faust’s face is carved in
Marguerite’s back hair, and the man’s figure is obtained, as before stated, by
means of the folds of the woman’s robe.

CHAPTER III.
MISCELLANEOUS STAGE TRICKS.

The tricks in this chapter are no less interesting than those which have gone
before, but are rather of a more miscellaneous nature. The first trick which
we shall describe, is called “The Illusion of Trilby.”

The late Professor Herrmann won for himself a firm place in the regards of
the civilized world, representing the fin de siècle Houdin. His carefully
executed work, with its perfect detail and finish, was a standard among
performances of natural magic, and other exhibitions are referred to it as the
gage of their quality. In Herrmann’s illusion of “Trilby,” hypnotism is
supposed to play a part. As will be seen, it is really an ingenious application
of mechanics.

PREPARING TRILBY’S COUCH.

A plank is placed upon the backs of two chairs. A lady performer who is
supposed to represent Du Maurier’s “Trilby” enters and, stepping on a foot-
stool, lies down upon the plank. She holds a bouquet in her hand, which
bouquet, unknown to the audience, has its own part to play. The other
performer, Herrmann, who is supposed to be Svengali, carefully arranges
the drapery, walking around her as he does so. Then he makes some passes,
and one by one removes the chairs, and the lady and board remain in the air.
In response to his passes the lady, still resting on the board, rises, and the
position changes to an inclined one and back to the horizontal one. Finally
the chairs are replaced, the lady by passes is supposed to be waked from her
trance and steps down, chairs and plank are removed, and nothing is to be
seen further.

THE AËRIAL SUSPENSION OF TRILBY.

Two of the cuts show the progress of the performance as seen by the
audience. The third cut explains the mechanism. Behind the scenes is a
strong frame, up and down which a movable slide works. Tackle is provided
to raise and lower the slide; and a workman behind the scenes is intrusted
with its manipulation. A bar carrying at its rear end handles, and in front a
socket, shown in the upper right-hand corner of the same cut, is journaled in
the slide, and can also be thrust in and out through the journal box.
When Trilby has been placed upon her board couch, the bar is thrust
forward, drapery at the back having hitherto concealed its socket end. The
fair Trilby with her bouquet now effectually conceals it as it emerges from
behind the curtains. The performer, while apparently sedulously arranging
the drapery, guides the socket and causes it to grip the board. The assistant
behind the scene pulls upon the tackle and works the handle, so that Trilby’s
weight leaves the chairs one by one, which are removed, and, supported by
the bar, she seems to float in air. By manipulating the tackle she can be
raised and lowered. By the handles she can be tilted about, giving a
wonderfully good effect. Finally the chairs are replaced, and the assistant
lowers Trilby upon them. During the waking passes the socket is detached
and the bar is withdrawn. A close observer may notice a slight agitation of
the drapery or curtains behind the stage as the bar is pushed out and

withdrawn, but the attention of the audience in general is so taken up with
the performance proper that this disturbance is overlooked by them.

THE ILLUSION EXPLAINED.

The magician, it will be seen, can only walk completely around the
reclining lady before the bar is in place or after it is withdrawn. When the
bar is in place, he can walk behind her, but cannot go completely around
her. Hence his complete excursions are restricted to the time when she is
resting on the chairs, before the bar is in place or after it has been
withdrawn.
After the board is vacated, Svengali throws it down upon the stage, its fall,
with accompanying noise and disturbance, showing that there is no
deception about that portion of the display.

THE “HAUNTED SWING.”

TRUE POSITION OF THE SWING.

ILLUSION PRODUCED BY A RIDE IN THE SWING.

The supreme happiness of sitting in a swing which apparently whirls around
its points of support, giving the occupant what is most properly described as
a new sensation, may now be enjoyed by all. It is termed the “haunted
swing,” and has been in most successful operation at Atlantic City and at
the Midwinter Fair near San Francisco. Those who are to participate in the
apparent gyrations of the swing—and there may be quite a number who
enjoy it simultaneously—are ushered into a small room. From a bar
crossing the room, near the ceiling, hangs a large swing, which is provided
with seats for a number of people. After the people have taken their places,
the attendant pushes the car and it starts into oscillation like any other
swing. The room door is closed. Gradually those in it feel after three or four
movements that their swing is going rather high, but this it is not all. The
apparent amplitude of the oscillations increases more and more, until

presently the whole swing seems to whirl completely over, describing a full
circle about the bar on which it hangs. To make the thing more utterly
mysterious, the bar is bent crank fashion, so that it seems demonstrably
impossible for the swing to pass between bar and ceiling. It continues
apparently to go round and round this way, imparting a most weird
sensation to the occupants, until its movements begin gradually to cease and
the complete rotation is succeeded by the usual back and forth swinging,
and in a few seconds, as the children say, “the old cat dies.” The door of the
room is opened and the swinging party leave. Those who have tried it say
the sensation is most peculiar and the deception perfect.
The illusion is based on the movements of the room proper. During the
entire exhibition the swing is practically stationary, while the room rotates
about the suspending bar. At the beginning of operations the swing may be
given a slight push; the operators outside the room then begin to swing the
room itself, which is really a large box journaled on the swing bar, starting
it off to correspond with the movements of the swing. They swing it back
and forth, increasing the arc through which it moves until it goes so far as to
make a complete rotation. The operatives do this without special machinery,
taking hold of the sides and corners of the box or “room.” At this time the
people in the swing imagine that the room is stationary while they are
whirling through space. After keeping this up for some time, the movement
is brought gradually to a stop, a sufficient number of back and forth swings
being given at the finale to carry out the illusion to the end.
The room is as completely furnished as possible, everything being, of
course, fastened in place. What is apparently a kerosene lamp stands on a
table, near at hand. It is securely fastened to the table, which in its turn is
fastened to the floor, and the light is supplied by a small incandescent lamp
within the chimney, but concealed by the shade. The visitor never imagines
that it is an electric lamp, and naturally thinks that it would be impossible
for a kerosene lamp to be inverted without disaster, so that this adds to the
deception materially. The same is to be said of the pictures hanging on the
wall, of the cupboard full of chinaware, of the chair with a hat on it, and of
the baby carriage. All contribute to the mystification. Even though one is
informed of the secret before entering the swing, the deception is said to be
so complete that passengers involuntarily seize the arms of the seats to
avoid being precipitated below.

THE “SCURIMOBILE.”

THE SCURIMOBILE.

The peculiar gun shown in the cut is named after its inventor, Alessandro
Scuri, of Liège, Belgium. M. Scuri is also known as the inventor of a
unicycle and a quadruple cornet. The “scurimobile” is a gun with two
barrels which can be aimed at different objects, the angle between the
barrels being adjustable. The adjustment is effected by moving a ring
located on the under side of the gun. The pivot of the barrels is so arranged
that it is easy to sight two objects at the same time. Both cartridges are
automatically ejected after each shot fired. It is also possible to use only one
barrel in the ordinary way. In the cut the inventor is shown aiming at two
balls placed about a yard apart. Another valuable feature of this new gun is
its applicability as a range finder. The observer first sights two objects
which are at about equal distances from him, and measures the distance or
angle between the two barrels, a graduation being provided for this purpose.
Then the same operation is made from a point more distant from the objects

first sighted. If the observer steps back ten yards, and finds that the
graduation indicates just one-half of the value obtained at first, he will
know that in the second position he was just twice as far from the objects as
in the first position, so that the objects are ten yards from the observer’s
first position. This operation will give distances with sufficient accuracy in
most cases, but more exact results can be obtained by means of a simple
trigonometric formula when the angle between the barrels is measured.

“THE NEOÖCCULTISM.”

The X rays, after becoming the indispensable coadjutors of surgeons, and
even of physicians, are now competing with the most noted mediums in the
domain of the marvelous.
M. Radiguet, the well known manufacturer of physical apparatus, has been
devoting himself for a long time to experiments with the Roentgen rays in
the laboratory, which is encumbered with electric lamps, lamp globes, and
glass apparatus of all kinds. One day he perceived that these glass objects,
under the action of the X rays, shone in the darkness. Here again was an
amusing and perhaps a useful experiment due to accident. Useful, because
the radiographs obtained up to the present, by means of artificial screens,
have been really good only when the sensitive bodies have been in small
crystals. In a pulverulent state they are nearly insensible to the X rays, and
it is almost impossible to obtain the grain of the screen upon the
photographic plate. It is easy, on the contrary, to work the glass in such a
way as to prevent any irregularity in the radiograph. Such experiments will
certainly be made ere long, but, for the present, it is the fantastic side of the
discovery that we shall present to our readers.
Porcelain, enamels, and diamonds, and also objects covered with platino-
cyanides (used by Roentgen) and with calcium tungstate, zinc sulphate, etc.,
have, like glass, the property of becoming luminous in darkness under the
action of the X rays. We have, therefore, only the trouble of selection in
order to get up a “spirit séance” with every certainty of success, while
genuine spiritual séances fail in most cases, as well known, because the
spirits are in an ill mood and disposed to be coyish.

ARRANGEMENT FOR A STRIKING EXPERIMENT WITH THE X RAYS.

The following will prove a scene sufficiently weird to put the most intrepid
worldlings in a flurry if some one of our friends takes it into his head to
give them the mysterious spectacle thereof before they have read an
exposure of the trick.

THE APPARITION.

The first figure that we present herewith exhibits a Ruhmkorff coil, which is
placed here to show the operation in its entirety. But, as the first effect of its
vibrations would be to attract the attention, and consequently the suspicions
of the spectators, whom it is a question of transporting into the domain of
the marvelous, this apparatus is relegated to some distant room. The current
that produces the X rays is led into the Crookes tube by wires. This
apparatus, moreover, which is not very bulky, may be placed behind a door
or be concealed under black cloth. The objects designed to become
luminous are placed as near to the tube as possible. In the experiment under
consideration a diner (who is doubtless near-sighted, since he wears
eyeglasses) is about to do justice to his breakfast. Armed with a knife and
fork, he attacks his beefsteak; but he is assuredly a greater eater than

drinker, since he contents himself with water, while his light consists of a
single candle.
A black curtain on the other side of the table conceals from the spectators a
skeleton covered with zinc sulphide.
Let us now put out the light and set the Ruhmkorff coil in action. What a
surprise! A plate, a glass, a water bottle, and a candle shine in space with
the light of glow-worms.
A sinister guest in the form of a skeleton sits opposite the place occupied by
the near-sighted gentleman, who has disappeared, and whose eyeglasses
alone have held their own before this ghastly apparition. Finally, to
complete the illusion, hands are seen moving over the heads of the
spectators, and those multiply, and then disappear, only to appear anew.
It must be remarked that, in order to render the experiment more
conclusive, it is allowable for the most incredulous members of the party to
tie the gentleman tightly to his chair, and, if they desire, to hold his hands
and feet during the entire time of the experiment. It is scarcely necessary to
explain how the latter is performed. The X rays pass through the black cloth
on the door that conceals the Crookes tube and also through the body of the
gentleman, and render luminous the glass objects covered with zinc
sulphide. As for the mysterious hands, those are simply gloves covered with
the same substance and fixed to the extremity of long sticks that are moved
in all directions by confederates.
Such scenes may naturally be varied to infinity; and the spirit of invention
is so fertile, there is no doubt that before long ladies will be giving a place
in the programme of their soirées to this up-to-date spiritualism.

“THE MASK OF BALSAMO.”

THEATRICAL SCIENCE.
Fig. 1.—The Enchanted Death’s Head. Fig. 2.—The Mask of Balsamo

This illusion is a variation of the enchanted “death’s head” which was for a
long time the attraction of the Robert-Houdin Theater. Our engraving shows
both the “death’s head,” the “mask of Balsamo,” and the method of
producing the illusion. Under the influence of the passes of the
prestidigitateur the skull on the glass plate bends forward and seems to
salute the spectators. The nodding of the “death’s head” was utilized in a
number of ways, as, to indicate the number when dice was thrown. This
trick was performed as follows: Upon a table near the magician was placed
a ball of soft wax attached to a string which ran to the side scenes, where it
could be pulled by a confederate. After passing the skull around to be
examined, the prestidigitateur, in laying it upon the table, fixed the ball of
wax at the top of it. After the experiment a simple scraping with the finger
nail removed every trace of the trick. The Isola Brothers used electricity in a
somewhat similar illusion. The skull is replaced by a wooden mask laid flat
on a small table and the mask answers questions by rocking slightly. The
magician then brings the table into the midst of the spectators, and the mask
still continues to move, to the astonishment of the onlookers. The secret of
the trick is that part of the wood which forms the chin is replaced by a small

strip of iron which is painted the same color as the mask so that it cannot be
seen; an electro-magnet is let into the top of the table so that the cores shall
be opposite the strip of iron when the mask is laid upon the table. Contact is
made by means of a push button somewhere in the side scenes, the wires
run under the stage, and connection is made through the legs of the table
when the legs are set on the foreordained place. Upon the same principle is
Robert-Houdin’s heavy chest and magic drum. A rapping and talking table
may be made by carrying out the same idea. The battery is carried in the
lower part of the table, where the three legs join. The top of the table is in
two parts, the lower of which is hollow and the top being very thin. In the
center of the hollow part is placed an electro-magnet, one of the wires of
which connects with one of the poles of the battery, while the other is
connected with a flat metallic circle glued to the cover of the table. Beneath
this circle and at a slight distance from it there is a toothed circle connected
with the whole pole of the battery. When the table is pressed lightly upon,
the cover bends and the flat circle touches the toothed one. This closes the
circuit, and the electro-magnet attracting the armature produces a sharp
blow. When the hand is raised the circuit is broken, producing another sharp
blow. By running the hand lightly over the table the cover is caused to bend
successively over a certain portion of its circumference. Thus contact is
made at a number of places, and the sharp blow is replaced by a quick
succession of sounds. This table is very useful for spirit rappings; as the
table contains all of the mechanism in itself, it can be moved to any part of
the room. The table may be also operated from a distance by employing
conductors passing through the legs of the table and under the carpet. By
substituting a small telephone receiver for the electro-magnet, the rapping
spirits may be made talking ones.

RAPPING AND TALKING TABLE.

Electric insects may be constructed on the same plan and give a very life-
like appearance when placed on an artificial bunch of flowers in a flower
pot. The battery is concealed in the top. When the pot is raised a drop of
mercury which occupies the bottom of the pot will roll over the bottom,
closing the circuit successively on different insects, keeping them in motion
until the pot has been set down.

THE INVISIBLE WOMAN.

THE INVISIBLE WOMAN.

At the end of the last century and the beginning of the present, a very
curious experiment, and one which was looked upon as marvelous by the
credulous, was wonderfully popular at Paris. The representation took place
at the old Capuchin convent. The spectator entered a well lighted hall in
which, in part of a window, there was a box suspended by four brass chains
attached by bows of ribbon. The box, which was surrounded by a grating,
was provided with two panes of glass that permitted of seeing that it was
absolutely empty. To one of the extremities was fixed a speaking trumpet.
When a visitor spoke in the latter, he was answered by a hollow voice; and
when he placed his face near the box, he even felt upon it the action of a
mysterious breath. When he presented any object whatever in front of the
mouthpiece, and asked the voice to name it, an answer immediately came
from the speaking tube. The box was suspended freely from the ceiling, and

it could be made to swing at the extremity of the chains; it was empty and
isolated in space. People were lost in conjecture as to the secret of the
experiment. Among the unlikely theories that were put forth was that of the
invisibility of a person obtained by unknown processes.
As usual in these kinds of impostures, there was here merely an ingenious
application of a scientific principle. A physicist, E. J. Ingennato, revealed
the mystery in a pamphlet published in 1800 under the title of “The
Invisible Woman and Her Secret Unveiled.” This tract, now rare, had for a
frontispiece the engraving which we reproduce herewith and which explains
the whole experiment. The invisible woman of the Capuchin convent was
named Frances, and the following is the explanatory legend appended to the
original engraving:
“Questioner: ‘Frances, what is this that I have in my hand?’
“Frances (after looking through the little peep-hole, D): ‘A stick with a
crooked handle.’
“The entire assembly at once: ‘It is incomprehensible!’”
Ingennato, in his pamphlet, explains that above the ceiling there was a low,
darkish chamber, in which Frances was concealed, and that she looked at
the object presented to her through a small aperture, D, which was skillfully
hidden by a hanging lamp, and then answered through the speaking tube, B
B B, hidden in the wall. The sound traversed a space of about six inches,
that separated the speaking tube from the speaking trumpet.

MAGIC HARPS.

The experiment which we are about to describe, while it is thoroughly
scientific, was taken up under the name of “Æolian Harps” by Robert-
Houdin, who introduced several modifications of it. When the experiment
was performed by Wheatstone in 1855, four harps were arranged in a semi-
circle on the stage of the Polytechnic Institution. These harps, at the
pleasure of the experimentor, vibrated as if they were made to resound by
invisible hands. This effect was produced by fixing to the sounding board of
each of them vertical rods of fir-wood which passed through the floor of the

stage and ceilings, into the cellar of the Institution, where one of them was
fixed upon a sounding board of a piano, another upon the sounding board of
a violoncello, and two others upon the sounding boards of violins. In order
to render it possible to interrupt the vibrations between the instruments and
the harps, the rods supporting the latter were divided at two inches above
the floor. Each harp could be cut off from communication with the
instrument below by turning it around upon its axis. When Robert-Houdin
introduced the illusion, he used a stage elevated in the very midst of the
spectators. This stage was traversed by two fir-wood rods which, after
passing through the floor, rested upon harps placed in the hands of skillful
players. At the command of the prestidigitateur two other harps supported
upon the upper extremity of the rods executed a concert which was very
successful, thanks to the careful preparations and the elegant mise en scène.
Of course the harps were supposed to operate through the intervention of
mediumistic spirits.

ÆOLIAN HARP EXPERIMENT.

CHAPTER IV.
CONJURING TRICKS.

Having described some of the illusions which are produced with the aid of
elaborate outfits, we now come to the more simple tricks which are
produced with smaller and less expensive apparatus, and, sometimes, with
no apparatus at all. In the old days the man of mystery appeared on the
stage clad in a robe embroidered with cabalistic figures, the ample folds of
which could well conceal a whole trunkful of paraphernalia. The table in
the center of the stage was covered with a velvet cloth embroidered with
silver, and its long folds, which reached the ground, suggested endless
possibilities for concealment. All of these things have now passed away,
and the modern magician appears clad in ordinary evening dress, which is
beyond the suspicion of concealment. The furniture is all selected with
special reference to the apparent impossibility of using it as a storeroom for
objects which the prestidigitateur wishes to conceal. Some of the easiest
and simplest of modern tricks that anyone with little or no practice can
perform are very effective. The tricks in this chapter are far from being all
which have been published in the Scientific American and the Scientific
American Supplement, but they are believed to be the best which have been
published in those journals.

TRICK WITH AN EGG AND A HANDKERCHIEF.

In this trick we have an egg in an egg-cup, which the prestidigitateur covers
with a hat, and then he rolls a small silk handkerchief between his hands, as
shown in Fig. 1. As soon as the handkerchief no longer appears externally,
he opens his hands and shows the egg, which has invisibly left the place
that it occupied under the hat, while the handkerchief has passed into the
egg-cup (Fig. 3). We shall now explain how these invisible transfers are
effected.
Two eggs, genuine and entire, were truly placed in plain view in a basket,
but it was not one of those that served for the experiment. Behind the basket
was placed a half shell, C, of wood (Fig. 2), painted white on the convex
side, so as to represent the half of an egg, and on the concave side offering

the same aspect as the interior of the egg-cup, A, to which it can be
perfectly fitted in one direction or the other, as may be seen in the section in
Fig. 2. It is this shell, inclosing a small handkerchief exactly like the first,
that the prestidigitateur placed upon the egg-cup (Fig. 2). Then, while with
the left hand he covered the whole with a hat with which he concealed the
operation, he with the right hand quickly turned the shell upside down. The
shell, therefore, by this means disappeared in the egg-cup, and the
handkerchief, spreading out, assumed the appearance that it presents in Fig.
3.

TRICK WITH AN EGG AND HANDKERCHIEF.

The prestidigitateur, having afterward secretly seized with his right hand a
hollow egg of metal, containing an oval aperture (F, Fig. 2), stuffed into it
the handkerchief that he seemed simply to roll and compress between his
hands. It is almost useless to add that the metallic egg may be easily
concealed either with the palm of the hand that holds it, or with the
handkerchief.

THE CONE OF FLOWERS.

In prestidigitation flowers have in all times played an important part, and
they are usually employed in preference to other objects, since they give the
experiments a pleasing aspect. But, in most cases, natural flowers,
especially when it is necessary to conceal their presence, are replaced by
paper or feather ones, the bulk of which is more easily reduced. Such is the
case in the experiment which we are about to present, and which, it must be
confessed, requires to be seen from some little distance in order that the
spectators may, without too great an effort of the imagination, be led into
the delusion that they are looking at genuine flowers. However, even seen
close by, the trick surprises one to the same degree as all those that consist
in causing the appearance of more or less bulky objects where nothing was
perceived a few moments previous.
The prestidigitateur takes a newspaper and forms it into a cone before one’s
eyes. It is impossible to suppose the existence here of a double bottom, and
yet the cone, gently shaken, becomes filled with flowers that have come
from no one knows where. The number of them even becomes so great that
they soon more than fill the cone and drop on and cover the floor.

THE CONE OF FLOWERS.

The two sides of the flowers employed are represented in Fig. 2, where they
are lettered A and B. Each flower consists of four petals of various colors,
cut with a punch out of very thin tissue paper. Upon examining Fig. A, we
see opposite us the petals 1, 2, 3, and 4 gummed together by the extremities
of their anterior sides, while Fig. B shows us the petals 2 and 3 united in the
same manner on the opposite side. A small, very light and thin steel spring,
D, formed of two strips soldered together at the bottom, and pointing in
opposite directions, is fixed to the two exterior petals, 1 and 4, of the
flower, and is concealed by a band of paper of the same color, gummed
above. It is this spring that, when it is capable of expanding freely, opens
the flower and gives it its voluminous aspect.
Quite a large number of these flowers (a hundred or more), united and held
together by means of a thread or a rubber band (Fig. 2, C) makes a package
small enough to allow the operator to conceal it in the palm of his hand,

only the back of which he allows the spectators to see while he is forming
the paper cone.

THE MAGIC ROSEBUSH.

In lectures on chemistry, the professor, in speaking of aniline colors, in
order to give an idea of the coloring power of certain of these substances,
performs the following experiment:
Upon a sheet of paper he throws some aniline red, which, as well known,
comes in the form of iridescent crystals. He shakes the surplus off the paper
into the bottle, so that it would be thought that nothing remained on the
paper. If, however, alcohol, in which aniline colors are very soluble, be
poured over the paper, the latter immediately becomes red.

THE MAGIC ROSEBUSH.

This experiment may be varied as follows: Instead of scattering the aniline
over paper, it is dusted over the flowers of a white rosebush, and the flowers
are shaken so as to render the dust invisible, and then when a visit is
received from an amateur of horticulture, we tell him that we have a magic
rosebush in our garden, the flowers of which become red when alcohol or

cologne is poured over them. The experiment is performed with the aid of a
perfumery vaporizer, and the phenomenon causes great surprise to the
spectators who are not in the secret.

“MAGIC FLOWERS.”

A trick that has contributed much toward making one of our leading
magicians such a favorite with the fair sex, is one in which a bush filled
with genuine rosebuds is caused to grow in a previously-examined pot that
contained nothing but a small quantity of white sand.
After the bush is produced, the flowers are cut and distributed to the ladies,
and by many recipients of the magician’s favors these buds are looked upon
as a production of fairy land. For many years this trick has occupied a
prominent position on the programme of the magician in question, and
mystifies the audience as much to-day as ever, thus proving how well
magicians keep their secrets from the public. The trick is not a difficult one
by any means, yet, regardless of its simplicity and the ease with which it
may be performed, the florist would find it anything but an economical
method of raising roses, as a perusal of the following will show.
On the stage is seen two stands with metal feet, and with long rich drapery
trimmed with gold fringe. On each of the stands is a miniature stand on
which are flower-pots.
The magician passes the pots for inspection, then places them on the stands,
and plants a few flower seeds in each pot. A large cone, open at both ends,
is shown, and can be carefully examined. One of the pots is covered for a
moment with the cone, and on its removal a green sprig is seen protruding
from the sand, the seed having sprouted, so the magician says. Now the
second pot is covered for a moment with the cone, on the removal of which
a large rosebush is seen in the pot, a mass of full-blown roses and buds. The
first pot is again covered for a moment with the cone, and when uncovered
a second rosebush is seen, equally as full of roses as the other. The cone is
once again shown to be empty.

A small basket or tray is now brought forward, on which the roses and buds
are placed as the performer cuts them from the bushes, after which they are
distributed to the ladies.
The stands are not what they appear, as the drapery does not extend entirely
around them, but quite a space at the back of the stand is open. There is a
small shelf attached to the stand leg, near the bottom of the drapery. Three
cones are used, of which the audience see but one.
The rosebushes are merely stumps to which are attached a base of sheet
lead, cut of such a size as to fit nicely in the flower-pots, resting on the
sand. To the stumps the genuine roses are attached by tying with thread.
When the bushes are prepared they are suspended inside of cones, by means
of a stout cord that is fastened to the stump by one end and to the other end
of which is attached a small hook, which hook is slipped over the edge of
the upper opening of the cone. When the bushes are placed in the cones,
these cones are placed on the shelves at the back of the stands. Reference to
the second engraving will make the arrangement of the shelf, back of stand,
and position of concealed cone plain to all. There is a variance in the size of
the cones. The cone shown to the audience is slightly larger than the cone
that is behind the first stand, and the cone behind the second stand is a
fraction smaller than either of the others. Thus the cones will fit snugly one
in the other, in the order named.

MAGIC FLOWERS.

After the performer has shown the pots, planted the seed, and placed the
pots on the small stands, which are used to convince the spectators that
there is no connection between the pot and the large stand, he shows the
large cone, which is nicely decorated, and covers the top of the pot on the
first stand, as he says, to shut out the light, that the seed may germinate.
Between the fingers of the hand holding the cone, he has concealed a small
metal shape, painted green, which he drops through the cone into the pot. In
a moment he removes the cone from over the pot, and in a most natural
manner passes it down behind the stand and over the concealed cone
containing the rosebush, and carries this cone away inside of the larger one.
At the same moment he picks up the flower-pot and carries it down and
shows the green sprout in the sand.

THE MYSTERY EXPLAINED.

The performer now steps to the second stand and covers the flower-pot on it
with the cone. As soon as the pot is covered, he slips off the small hook
supporting the rosebush, which drops into the pot; the weight of the lead
base keeps it in position while the cones are being removed.
When the performer removes the cone—or cones, we should now say, as
we have two now in place of one, although this fact is unknown to the
audience—he passes it down behind the stand, over the concealed third
cone, picking it up with the second rosebush inside. He now returns to the
first stand, covers the pot, and by slipping off the hook holding the rosebush
in position, and removing the cone, or cones, properly, from the pot, shows
the second rosebush. He now turns the large cone so the audience can see
through it, and as the upper and lower edge of each cone is blackened, there
is no danger of the inside cones being seen. The rear of the stand tops are
something of a crescent shape, to facilitate the passing of the large cone
down behind the stand in a graceful manner.

THE “BIRTH OF FLOWERS.”

The trick that we are about to describe, although old, is very interesting.
The prestidigitateur comes forward, holding in his hand a small cardboard
box which he says contains various kinds of flower seeds.

THE BIRTH OF THE FLOWERS.

“Here there is no need of moisture, earth, or time to cause the seed to
germinate, the plant to spring up, and the flower to bloom. Everything takes
place instantaneously. Would not a rose in my buttonhole produce a
charming effect? A stroke of the wand upon the seed deposited in the
desired place, and see! the rose appears. A few seeds are in this little box
(Fig. 1, A) that we shall cover for an instant so that it cannot be seen how
flowers are born. It is done; let us take off the cover; violets, forget-me-
nots, and Easter daisies are here all freshly blown.
“You are suspicious, perhaps, and rightly, of the little tin box, and more so
of its cover. Well, then, here is a small goblet, the transparency of which is
perfect, and this borrowed hat with which I cover it can have undergone no
preparation. Let us remove it quickly, for the flowers—What! no flowers?
Ah! it is because I forgot to sow the seeds. Let us begin the operation over
again. What flowers do you want—a mignonette, a violet, a marigold? Here
is a seed of each kind, which I shall put into the glass. Now let each one tell
me the flower that he prefers. Now I cover the glass and count three
seconds. See the magnificent bouquet!” (Fig. 3.)

Finally the trick is finished by taking from the hat a number of small
bouquets that are offered to the ladies. The following is an explanation of
the various tricks, beginning with that which involves the boutonnière of
the magician himself.

I. The Buttonhole Rose.

This is a stemless artificial rose of muslin, which is secured by a strong
black silk thread arrested by a knot. To this thread, which should be five or
six inches in length, is attached quite a strong rubber cord capable of being
doubled if need be. The free extremity of the rubber traverses, in the first
place, the left buttonhole of the coat, and then a small eyelet formed
beneath, and then passes over the chest and behind the back, and is fixed by
the extremity to one of the right-hand buttons of the waistband of the
trousers.
When the prestidigitateur comes upon the stage, the rose is carried under his
left armpit, where he holds it by a slight pressure of the arm. At the proper
moment he raises his wand toward the right, and looks in the same direction
in order to attract the eyes of the spectators to that side; but at the same time
he separates his arms slightly, and the rose, held by the taut rubber,
suddenly puts itself in place. The magic effect produced by the
instantaneous appearance of this flower, coming whence no one knows
where, could not be appreciated without having been seen.

II. The Flowers in the Small Box.

In the second appearance of flowers, produced by means of the small
apparatus shown in Fig. 2, there is really nothing very mysterious. The
special object of it is to bring into relief the experiment that is to follow, and
in which, evidently, there can be no question of double bottom. Moreover,
the diversity of the means employed contributes powerfully toward
astounding the spectators.
Fig. 2 shows in section the three pieces of the apparatus, which are placed
separately upon the table in Fig. 1. A is the cylindrical tin box in which the
seeds are sown, and B another box of slightly larger diameter, but in other

respects just like the first, which it entirely covers. To the bottom of B is
fixed a small bouquet of artificial flowers. By slightly squeezing the cover,
C (which is of thin brass), toward the bottom, the box, B, with the bouquet,
is lifted. If, on the contrary, the box is left upon the table, the spectators do
not perceive the substitution made, and think that they all the time see the
first box, whence they believe the flowers started.

III. The Bouquet in the Glass.

This is the most interesting part of the experiment.
As we have said, the glass is first covered with a hat, and the
prestidigitateur feigns astonishment upon seeing that the flowers have not
appeared, but at the very instant at which the hat is lifted, when all eyes are
fixed upon the glass, looking for the bouquet announced, the operator, who,
with the right hand, holds the hat carelessly resting upon the edge of the
table, suddenly sticks his middle finger in the cardboard tube fixed to the
handle of the bouquet, which has been placed in advance upon a bracket, as
shown in Fig. 1, and, immediately raising his finger, introduces the flowers
into the hat, taking good care (and this is an important point) not to turn his
gaze away from the glass to the bouquet or hat, as one might feel himself
led to do in such a case. This introduction of the bouquet should be effected
in less than a second, after which the hat is held aloft, while with the left
hand some imaginary seeds, the kinds of which are designated in measure
as they are taken, are selected from the cardboard box and successively
deposited in the glass. So, this time, be certain of it, the flowers will appear.

IV. The Small Bouquets in the Hat.

There is not a second to be lost; the spectators are admiring the bouquet and
are astonished to see it make its appearance. The operator very quickly
profits by this moment of surprise to introduce, by the same process as
before, a package of small bouquets tied together with a weak thread that
will afterward be broken in the hat. We have not figured these bouquets
upon the bracket, in order to avoid complication. Of course, a skillful
operator will not hasten to produce the small bouquets. He will advance

toward the spectators as if the experiment were ended, and as if he wished
to return the hat to the person from whom he borrowed it. Afterward
making believe answer a request, he says: “You wish some flowers,
madam? And you too? And are there others who wish some? I will, then,
empty into the hat the rest of my wonderful seeds, and we shall see the
result.” It is at this moment that the spectators are attentive and that all eyes
are open to see the advent of the flowers.

TRICKS WITH A HAT.

Prestidigitateurs frequently borrow from their spectators a hat that serves
them for the performance of very neat tricks which are not always easily
explained. We shall describe some of the most interesting of these.
The operator will begin by proving to you that the felt of your hat is of bad
quality, and, to this effect, he will pierce it here and there with his finger, his
magic wand, an egg, and with a host of other objects.
This is all an illusion, the mystery of which is explained by our first
engraving. (See the finger B.) It is either of wood or cardboard, and
terminates in a long slender needle. The prestidigitateur, who has concealed
the finger in his left hand, thrusts the point into the top of the hat, whose
interior is turned toward the spectators. Afterward raising the right hand, the
forefinger of which he points forward, he seems to be about to pierce the
top of the hat, but instead of finishing the motion begun, he quickly seizes
in the interior, between the thumb and forefinger, the point of the needle,
wiggles it around in all directions, turns the hat over, and the cardboard
finger, which moves, seems to be the prestidigitateur’s own finger. The
same operation is performed with the wooden half egg, C, and the rod, A,
which, like the finger, appear to traverse the hat, in the interior of which are
hidden the true rod and egg. We may likewise solder a needle to a half of a
five-franc piece, and thus vary the objects employed for this recreation to
infinity.

PASSING A FINGER, ROD, AND EGG THROUGH A HAT.

In order to take from a hat a large quantity of paper in ribbons, and then
doves, and even a duck or a rabbit, there is no need of special apparatus nor
of a great amount of dexterity, and still less of the revolving bobbin or of
the mysterious machine whose existence is generally believed in by the
spectators when they see the paper falling regularly from the hat, and
turning gracefully of itself as the water from a new sort of fountain would
do.
Nor is there here any need of a high hat; a simple straw hat (or a cap, at a
pinch) will suffice. The prestidigitateur holds close pressed to his breast and
hidden under his coat a roll of the blue paper prepared for the printing
apparatus of the Morse telegraph, and which is so tightly wound that it has
the aspect and consistence of a wooden disk with a circular aperture in the
center. In turning around after taking the hat, the opening of which rests
against his breast, the operator deftly introduces into it the roll of paper,
which has the proper diameter to allow it to enter by hard friction as far as
the top of the hat, and stay where it is put even when the hat is turned over.
Were it needed, the paper might be held by a proper pressure of the left
hand exerted from the exterior. The introduction of the paper is effected in a

fraction of a second.
“Your hat, my dear sir, was doubtless a little too wide for your head, for I
notice within it a band of paper designed to diminish the internal diameter,”
says the prestidigitateur, while, at the same time, he draws from the hat the
end that terminates the paper in the centre of the roll. Then he reverses the
hat so that the interior cannot be seen by the spectators. The paper
immediately begins to unwind of itself and to fall very regularly and
without intermission to the right.

THE ENDLESS PAPER RIBBON.

When the fall of the paper begins to slacken, that is, in general, when no
more than a third of the roll remains, the prestidigitateur turns the hat
upside down, and with the right hand pulls out and rapidly revolves in the
air the paper ribbon, whose capricious contours, succeeding one another
before the first have had time to fall to the floor, produce a very pretty

effect, as shown in our second engraving. The quantity of paper extracted
from the hat appears also in this way much greater than it really is, and at
length forms a pile of considerable bulk.
This experiment may be completed in the following manner: The operator,
approaching his table, which, upon a board suspended behind it, carries a
firmly bound pigeon, quickly seizes the poor bird in passing, and conceals it
under the pile of paper, while he puts the latter back into the hat in order to
see, says he, whether all that has been taken out can be made to enter anew.
Having thus introduced the pigeon or any other object into the hat, the
paper is taken out, and it is at the moment that the hat is restored to its
owner that he pretends to discover that it still contains something.

A CAKE BAKED IN A HAT.

FIGS. 1-3—A CAKE BAKED IN A HAT.

This old trick always amuses the spectators. Some eggs are broken into a
porcelain vessel, some flour is added thereto, and there is even incorporated

with the paste the eggshells and a few drops of wax or stearine from a near-
by candle. The whole having been put into a hat (Fig. 1), the latter is passed
three times over a flame, and an excellent cake, baked to a turn, is taken out
of this new set of cooking utensils. As for the owner of the hat, who has
passed through a state of great apprehension, he finds with evident
satisfaction (at least in most cases) that his head gear has preserved no
traces of the mixture that was poured into it.
Fig. 2 shows the apparatus employed by prestidigitateurs to bake a cake in a
hat. A is an earthen or porcelain vessel (it may also be of metal) into which
enters a metallic cylinder, B, which is provided with a flange at one of its
extremities and is divided by a horizontal partition into two unequal
compartments, c and d. The interior of the part d is painted white so as to
imitate porcelain. Finally, when the cylinder, B, is wholly inserted in the
vessel, A, in which it is held by four springs, r, r, r, r, fixed to the sides,
there is nothing to denote at a short distance that the vessel, A, is not empty,
just as it was presented at the beginning of the experiment.
The prestidigitateur has secretly introduced into the hat the small cake and
the apparatus, B, by making them fall suddenly from a bracket affixed to
the back of a chair. That at least is the most practical method of operating.
The vessel, A, about which there is nothing peculiar, is, of course,
submitted to the examination of the spectators. The object of adding the
flour is to render the paste less fluid, and to thus more certainly avoid the
production of stains.
The cake being arranged under the apparatus, B, in the space d, the contents
of the vessel, A, poured from a certain height, fall into the part c of the
apparatus; then the vessel, gradually brought nearer, is quickly inserted into
the hat in order to seize therein, and at the same time remove, the
receptacle, B, with its contents, and leave only the cake.
Fig. 3 shows this last operation. We have intentionally shown the part, B,
projecting from the vessel, A, but it will be understood that in reality it must
be inserted up to the base at the moment at which the vessel, A, introduced
into the hat, is concealed from the eyes of the spectators. The
prestidigitateur none the less continues to move his finger all around the
interior of the double vessel as if to gather up the remainder of the paste,

which he makes believe throw into the hat, upon the rim of which he even
affects to wipe his fingers, to the great disquietude of the gentleman to
whom it belongs.
The experiment may be complicated by first burning alcohol or fragments
of paper in the compartment c of the apparatus. Some prestidigitateurs even
add a little Bengal fire. But let no one imitate that amateur prestidigitateur
who, wishing to render the experiment more brilliant, put into the receptacle
such a quantity of powder that a disaster supervened, so that it became
necessary to throw water into the burning hat in order to extinguish the
nascent fire.
The following method of baking a cake in a hat is a decided improvement
over the old trick with the porcelain vessel. It has the advantage of being
able to be employed anywhere and of producing a complete illusion.
Before beginning the experiment, take three eggs, and having blown two of
them, close the apertures with white wax. Place the three eggs upon a plate.
Within the left-hand side of your waistcoat place a flat cake, and then make
your appearance before the spectators.

FIG. 4.

Having borrowed a hat, place it upon the table, and, after secretly
introducing the cake into it (Fig. 4), take an empty egg, crack the shell upon
the edge of the plate, and, inserting your hands in the hat, make believe
empty the contents of the egg into the latter (Fig. 5).

FIG. 5.

In order that the means employed may not occur to any one, take the perfect
egg and let it fall upon the plate so that it will break and its contents flow
out. Then take the remaining egg and operate as with the first. All you have
to do then is to pass the hat back and forth a few times over the flame of a
candle in order to cook the mass and then to serve the cake.

THE EGG AND HAT TRICK.

An effect due to an invisible thread is the following:

THE EGG AND HAT TRICK.

Some months ago, in a Parisian public establishment, a clown took a hat
and a handkerchief, and then, after showing, by spreading it out, that the
handkerchief was empty, drew an egg from the folds of the crumpled fabric
and allowed it to drop into the hat. Then he took up the handkerchief, shook
it out again, crumpled it up, found another egg, and let it drop into the hat,
and so on. When it might have been supposed that the hat contained a
certain number of eggs, he turned it upside down, and, lo and behold, the
hat was empty! All the eggs from the handkerchief were reduced to a single
one attached by a thread to one of the sides of the handkerchief, and which
the amusing operator maliciously exhibited, after seeming to look for the
vanished eggs.
While the handkerchief was stretched out, the egg was behind it, and,
although it was shaken, remained suspended by its thread. In crumpling the
handkerchief it was easy to seem to find the egg in it, and to put it in the
hat, where it did not remain, however, for, lifted by the thread, it resumed

its place behind the handkerchief. Our engraving shows the handkerchief at
the moment that the egg has been removed by the thread on the side
opposite that of the spectators.
On attaching a black thread, sixteen or twenty inches in length, to an empty
egg, and selecting the egg thus prepared from a lot of ordinary eggs, as if by
chance, we have a ready means of amusing and mystifying spectators for a
long time. Having hooked the free extremity of the thread to a buttonhole of
the waistcoat, let us lay the egg upon the table. After apparently ordering it
to approach us, it suffices to recede from the table to make the docile egg
obey the command. By the same means it may be made to make its exit
alone from a hat; or, again, by bearing upon the invisible thread, it may be
made to dance upon a cane or upon the hand; in a word, to perform various
operations that eggs are not accustomed to perform.

MULTIPLICATION OF COINS.

Upon a small rectangular tray of japanned sheet iron, similar to those in
common use, are placed seven coins (Fig. 1). A spectator is asked to receive
these in his hand and to put the coins back upon the tray, one by one, and to
count them with a loud voice as he does so. It is then found that the number
has doubled, there being fourteen instead of seven. The same operation
repeated gives as a result twenty-one coins.

MULTIPLICATION OF COINS.

As may be seen in the section in Fig. 3, the tray has a double bottom,
forming an interspace a little wider than the thickness of one of the coins,
and which is divided breadthwise into two equal compartments by a
partition, B. These two compartments are closed all around, save at the ends
of the tray, where there are two apertures, A and C, that in length are double
the diameter of the coins. In this interspace are concealed fourteen coins,
seven on each side. When the contents of the tray are emptied into the hand
of a spectator, the coins concealed in one of the compartments drop at the
same time (Fig. 2). The operator then takes the tray in his other hand, and
thus naturally seizes it at the end at which the now empty compartment
exists, and this allows the seven coins that are contained in the other
compartment to join the first ones, when the latter are rapidly emptied into
the hands of the spectator for the second time.

A square tray, with a double bottom divided into four compartments by
divisions running diagonally from one corner to another, would permit of
increasing the number of coins four times.
Let us say, however, that skillful prestidigitateurs dispense with the double
bottom. They hold the coins sometimes under the tray with their fingers
extended, and sometimes on the tray, under their thumbs, and renew their
supply several times from secret pockets skillfully arranged in various parts
of their coats, where the spectators are far from suspecting the existence of
them.

MAGIC COINS.

The street venders of Paris have for some time past been selling to
pedestrians a coin that can be made to enter an ordinary wine bottle. This
coin is a genuine ten centime piece, but, when it is handled, it is found that
it bends exactly like the leaves of a dining-room table. Amateur mechanics,
clock-makers, and copper turners can easily manufacture similar ones. The
process is as follows:

FIG. 1.—MAGIC COINS.

FIG. 2.—MODE OF INSERTING THE COIN IN A BOTTLE.

By means of a very fine metal saw, cut the coin in three pieces, either by
parallel cuts, or, better, by following the contours shown in Fig. 1. If the
operation be skillfully performed, the marks of the cutting, too, will be
nearly invisible. Before the coin is sawed, a groove about a line in depth
should be formed in the rim by means of a saw or file. In this channel or
groove is inserted a very taut rubber ring, which, before it is stretched,
should be, at the most, one and a half or two lines in diameter. If the rubber
is well hidden in the groove, the cleft coin will appear to be absolutely
intact.
Owing to this process, the coin can be easily inserted in a bottle by placing
the hands as shown in Fig. 2. The hand that bends the coin covers the
mouth. The coin is inserted, and then, by a smart blow given the bottle, it is
made to pass through the neck. Owing to the tension of the rubber, the piece
at once regains its flat form, and the operator makes it ring against the glass
in order to show that it is really a piece of metal. In order to extract it, it is
necessary to get the saw marks exactly in the direction of the bottle’s axis,
then the bottle is slightly inclined, neck downward, and through a few

blows on the latter the coin is made to drop into the hand, where it will at
once assume its original form.
We shall now have a few words to say about what is called the “double
sou.” The operator places the prepared coin in his hand, and calls strict
attention to the fact that there is no companion piece. Then he covers it with
his other hand for a moment, and finally shows two coins, instead of one, in
the first hand.

FIG. 3.—THE DOUBLE
SOU.

Fig. 3 shows, not how the experiment is performed, but how the double
coin is prepared. It is simply an ordinary sou, over which is placed a sort of
hollow cover containing the impression of the coin, and which fits on the
latter so accurately that the piece looks like an ordinary sou. This cover is
lifted and made to slide alongside of the coin, thus showing two pieces
instead of one.
The cover is stamped from a thin sheet of copper placed upon a sou serving
as a mould. It might possibly be made by means of some electro-
metallurgical process. The mutilation of United States coins is forbidden
under penalty of the law.

THE DISSOLVING COIN.

Borrow a silver dollar, and have it marked, so that it can be identified. Ask
some one to hold the coin horizontally between the thumb and forefinger of
the right hand within the folds of a silk handkerchief, and over a glass full
of water held in the left hand, Fig. 1. Your assistant’s two hands being thus
occupied, you will have no sort of indiscretion to fear. Stepping back a few
feet, direct your assistant to let the coin drop; and the impact against the
bottom of the glass will be heard by the entire assemblage. When the
handkerchief is raised the coin is no longer in the glass, but has made its
way to your hand or to the pocket of a spectator. Let it be examined, and it
will be found to be really the coin that has been previously marked.
In order to perform this trick it is necessary to have a disk of glass of the
same diameter as a silver dollar (Fig. 2).
Hide this disk, A (Fig. 3), in the palm of your right hand, turned toward you.
This will not prevent you from holding the coin that has been confided to
you between the thumb and forefinger of the same hand. While your hand is
concealed by the handkerchief in which it is thought that you placed the
coin, you shift the latter and give the assistant the glass disk to hold, by the
edge, of course, and not by the flat surface, so that the substitution that you
have made cannot be perceived by the touch.

DISAPPEARANCE OF A SILVER DOLLAR.

After the trick has been performed, do not be afraid to let the person who
has held the coin, and who is thoroughly astonished, examine the glass and
its contents at his leisure. The glass disk is entirely invisible in the water,
and if, as it is well to do, you have taken care to select a glass whose bottom
is perfectly plane and of the same diameter as the disk (Fig. 2), the latter
will remain adherent to the glass even when it is inverted to empty the
water in order to prove once more to the spectators that it contains nothing
but clear water.

THE SPIRIT SLATES.

Two ordinary wooden-framed slates are presented to the spectators, and
examined in succession by them. A small piece of chalk is introduced
between the two slates, which are then united by a rubber band and held
aloft in the prestidigitateur’s right hand.
Then, in the general silence, is heard the scratching of the chalk, which is
writing between the two slates the answer to a question asked by one of the
spectators—the name of a card thought of or the number of spots obtained
by throwing two dice. The rubber band having been removed and the slates

separated, one of them is seen to be covered with writing. This prodigy,
which at first sight seems to be so mysterious, is very easily performed.

SPIRIT SLATES.

The writing was done in advance; but upon the written side of the slate, A,
there had been placed a thin sheet of black cardboard which hid the
characters written with chalk. The two sides of this slate thus appeared
absolutely clean.
The slate B is first given out for examination, and after it has been returned
to him, the operator says: “Do you want to examine the other one also?”
And then, without any haste, he makes a pass analogous to that employed in
shuffling cards. The slate A being held by the thumb and forefinger of the
left hand and the slate B between the fore and middle finger of the right
hand (Fig. 1), the two hands are brought together. But at the moment at
which the slates are superposed, the thumb and forefinger of the right hand

grasp the slate A, while at the same time the fore and middle finger of the
left hand take the slate B. Then the two hands separate anew, and the slate
that has already been examined, instead of the second one, is put into the
hands of the spectator. This shifting, done with deliberation, is entirely
invisible.
During the second examination the slate A is laid flat upon a table, the
written face turned upward and covered with black cardboard. The slate
having been sufficiently examined, and been returned to the operator, the
latter lays it upon the first, and both are then surrounded by the rubber band.
It is then that the operator holds up the slates with the left hand, of which
one sees but the thumb, while upon the posterior face of the second slate the
nail of his middle finger makes a sound resembling that produced by chalk
when written with. When the operator judges that this little comedy has
lasted quite long enough, he lays the two slates horizontally upon his table,
taking care this time that the non-prepared slate shall be beneath (Fig. 2). It
is upon it that the black cardboard rests; and the other slate, on being raised,
shows the characters that it bears, and that are stated to have been written
by an invisible spirit that slipped in between the two slates.

SECOND SIGHT.

“The trick is performed as follows,” says Judge James Bartlett in the
Popular Science News: “Each person in the audience is presented with a
slip of paper, upon which to write anything he or she may choose. The
paper written upon is immediately secreted by the writer, as much care as
possible being taken that no one else sees what is written upon it. The
performer, who has been absent from the room while this is being done, is
brought in and led, as if in a state of trance, to a chair within full view of
every one present. A light piece of drapery is thrown over him so that he is
completely covered by it, and yet it is thin enough to be translucent, and it
can be seen he has not gone down through the floor or ascended up through
the ceiling. The audience is told the drapery prevents the sphere or
influence or spell that surrounds him from being dissipated. He now begins
and repeats, word for word, the sentences written upon any or all the slips
of paper. Nothing can be more astonishing; the paper has not left the

possession of the writers; it is equally certain that it is impossible that
another person could have seen what was thereon written, and yet the trick
is as simple as it is surprising, and that is certainly saying a great deal.
“The explanation is as follows: In order to write anything upon the slip of
paper given out, one must have something firm and flat upon which to place
it, and for this purpose bits of pasteboard of a convenient size are handed
about the audience. The pasteboard, however, is not solid, as it seems to be;
the uppermost layer of paper can be separated at one of the edges from the
layers beneath it, and into this slip white paper introduced. The uppermost
layer of paper is blacked with crayon or soft pencil on its under side, and
whatever is written upon the paper resting upon it is faithfully stenciled or
traced upon the white paper inserted. The pasteboards, being collected, are
taken out of the room and given to the performer by his assistant, who may
or may not be a confederate. That is, if the performer is very skillful, he
may dupe his assistant as well as his audience. He may tell him, for
instance, it is necessary for him to have these pasteboard rests and pass his
fingers over them so that he can become en rapport with the person with
whom they were in contact. It is better, however, at least at first, to have a
confederate. The rest is easy enough. The inserted slips of tell-tale papers
are collected and carried with him by the performer, who manages to read
them either through a hole in the drapery or by the light that sifts through it
as he sits covered up in his chair with his back to the audience. It is well,
sometimes, not to have enough pasteboard cards to go round the audience,
and give apparently at haphazard a book, an atlas or portfolio, which, of
course, has been neatly covered with paper or cloth and supplied with
blackened and with white paper as are the pasteboard cards.
“If anything should happen that would prevent reading any particular strip
of paper, the performer may at once say that he does not pretend to be able
to read all, but only such sentences as appear to his mental vision. This will
add to the effect and make the trick appear all the more mysterious. In
supplying pencils to your audience be sure to give them good, hard ones,
that will require some pressure to make the writing legible; be careful, too,
that the paper with which you furnish them is rather thin, so that you will
get a good tracing on that you have inserted in the pasteboard rest. As each
slip is read by the performer the assistant should ask if any one in the
audience wrote that sentence and if it is correctly repeated, and then,

stepping to the writer and taking the slip from him or her, he should himself
read it aloud and show it to any one desirous of seeing it; this enhances the
wonder and interest of the performance, and also gives the performer time
to decipher the next slip. It is well to have the sentences take the form of
questions which the performer can read, comment upon, and answer in an
oracular way, especially as this takes up time, and consequently gives fewer
selected slips to read during the period allotted to the trick; for to read a few
is quite as wonderful as to read many.
“Now let the master of occult art cap the climax. Let him again be led from
the room, ostensibly to have his magic sphere renewed, and let some one
among the audience write the name of a deceased person, together with
their own, on a slip of paper. Lay a good deal of stress on the requirement
that one name shall be that of a person deceased; this, of course, being only
to mystify the audience. When the names have been written the performer is
to enter the room. He does so with the sleeve of his coat rolled up, and his
arm bared to the elbow. After showing there is nothing upon his arm, he
turns down his sleeve, readjusts his cuff, and proceeds with his trick. He
first names the person whom the audience has chosen, in his absence, to
write the name; he requests that person to crumple up the slip of paper upon
which the name is written and rub it well over his arm just above his cuff,
‘so that the writing will penetrate through his sleeve,’ he says; now turning
up his sleeve he shows the writing that was upon the paper in blood-red
letters upon his bared arm. The manner of performing this part of the trick
is, having ascertained, as before, the writing upon the slip of paper by
means of the tracing, to write or print it with red ink mixed with a little
glycerine, or red printer’s ink, or oil color and turpentine, upon paper which
is to be fastened upon the inside of that part of the performer’s coat sleeve
which he instructs the person who has written the name upon the paper to
rub with the paper. The paper may be neatly pinned to the lining of the
sleeve, care being taken that the pins do not scratch when the sleeve is
turned down.”

MAGIC CABINETS.

The apparatus by means of which objects of various sizes—a card, a bird, a
child, a woman, etc.—may be made to apparently disappear play a large
part in the exhibitions of magicians, and also in pantomimes and fairy
scenes. Among such apparatus there are some that are based upon ingenious
mechanical combinations, while others bring in the aid of optics. We shall
examine a few of them.

The Magic Portfolio.

This is an apparatus which an itinerant physicist might have been seen a
few years ago exhibiting in the squares and at street corners. His method
was to have a spectator draw a card, which he then placed between the four
sheets of paper which, folded crossways, formed the flaps of his portfolio.
When he opened the latter again a few instants afterward the card had
disappeared, or rather had become transformed. Profiting then by the
surprise of his spectators, the showman began to offer them his magic
portfolio at the price of five cents for the small size and ten for the large.

MAGIC PORTFOLIOS, ENVELOPES, AND BOXES.

The portfolio was made of two square pieces of cardboard connected by
four strings, these latter being fixed in such a way that when the two pieces

of cardboard were open and juxtaposed the external edge of each of them
was connected with the inner edge of the other.
This constituted, after a manner, a double hinge that permitted of the
portfolio being opened from both sides. To one pair of strings there were
glued, back to back, two sheets of paper, which, when folded over, formed
the flaps of the portfolio. It was only necessary, then, to open the latter in
one direction or the other to render it impossible to open more than one of
the two sets of flaps.
This device is one that permits of a large number of tricks being performed,
since every object put under one of the sets of flaps will apparently
disappear or be converted into something else, at the will of the
prestidigitateur.

Magic Envelopes.

This trick is a simplification of the foregoing. The affair consists of several
sheets of paper of different colors folded over, one upon the other. A card
inclosed within the middle envelope, over which have been folded all the
others, is found to have disappeared when the flaps are opened again. The
secret of the trick is very simple. One of the inner sheets of paper—the
second one, usually—is double, and, when folded, forms two envelopes that
are back to back. It is only necessary, then, to open one or the other of these
latter to cause the appearance or disappearance or transformation of such
objects as have been inclosed within it.

Magic Boxes.

Magic boxes are of several styles, according to the size of the objects that
one desires to make disappear.
There is no one who has not seen a magician put one or more pigeons into
the drawer of one of these boxes, and, after closing it, open it to find that
the birds have disappeared. Such boxes contain two drawers, which, when
pulled out, seem to be but one; and it is only necessary, then, to pull out the

inner one or leave it closed in order to render the inclosed birds visible or
invisible.
In order to cause the disappearance of smaller objects, trick performers
often employ a jewel box, and after putting the object (a ring, for example)
into this, they hand it to some person and ask him to hold it, requesting him
at the same time to wrap it up in several sheets of paper. But this simple
motion has permitted the performer to cause the ring to drop into his hand
through a small trap opening beneath the box. Yet, while he is doing this the
spectators think that they hear the noise made by the ring striking against
the sides of the box. But that is only an illusion; for the noise that is heard
proceeds from a small hammer which is hidden within the cover under the
escutcheon, and which is rendered movable when the latter is pressed upon
by the performer. The box can thus be shaken without any noise being heard
within it, and the spectators are led to believe that the object has
disappeared.
Double-bottomed boxes are so well known that it is useless to describe
them. Sometimes the double bottom is hidden in the cover, and at others it
rests against one of the sides. Such boxes permit of the disappearance or
substitution of objects that are not very thick, such as a note, an image, or a
card.

THE TRAVELING BOTTLE AND GLASS.

Upon a table, at the rising of the curtain, are observed a bottle and a glass,
the latter full of wine up to the brim. The prestidigitateur pours into the
bottle half of the liquid, “which otherwise,” he remarks, “might slop over
during the voyage.” Then two cylinders of the same diameter as the bottle
are made before the eyes of the spectators out of two sheets of paper and
four pins.

TRICK WITH A BOTTLE AND A GLASS OF WINE.

These are designed to cover the bottle and the glass, which have been
separated from each other by a short interval (Fig. 1). Instantaneously, and
in an invisible manner, the two objects change places twice, and yet there is
never anything in the paper cylinders, which are, ostensibly, torn into a
hundred bits.
Fig. 3 unravels the mystery. The bottle is of varnished tin, and bottomless. It
covers a second bottle that is similar, but a little smaller, and in the center
there is concealed a glass similar to the one that has been shown, but empty.
It receives the half of the wine that was poured from the first glass. This
operation necessarily contributes toward convincing the spectators that they
have before them an ordinary bottle provided with a bottom and capable of
containing a liquid.
The operator first covers the bottle with one of the paper cylinders as if to
ascertain whether it has the proper diameter, but immediately removes it
and places it upright upon the table.
What no one can suspect, however, he has at the same time lifted the first
bottle by slightly compressing the paper. It is then the second bottle that is

seen, and which is precisely like the other, the labels of both being turned
toward the same side and exhibiting a slight tear or a few identical spots
designed to aid in the deception.
The operator, having finished his palaver, places the empty cylinder upon
the second bottle and covers the glass with the one in which the first bottle
is concealed (Fig 2). The magic wand is then brought into play, and after
this the paper cylinder alone is lifted at the side where the glass was in the
first place seen, while at the opposite side, the bottle, on being removed,
exposes the glass that it concealed. The operation is begun over again in the
opposite direction; and, finally, under pretense of once again showing that
either paper cylinder can be used indifferently, the operator replaces upon
the second bottle the cylinder that still contains the first one, unbeknown to
the spectators.
This is done so rapidly that the action is apparently a gesture, but nothing
more is needed to free the cylinder of its contents and reëstablish things in
their former state.

DISAPPEARANCE OF AN APPLE AND A NINEPIN.

To an apple and a ninepin, the principal objects with which this trick is
performed, are added as accessories a napkin, a large vessel of dark blue
glass, and a cone of coarse paper, which is made on the spot by molding it
over the ninepin.
First Disappearance (Fig. 1).—The apple, “in order that it maybe more in
sight,” is placed upon the inverted glass, V, under the paper cone, while the
inverted ninepin is covered with the napkin, S, through which it is held. All
at once the napkin, quickly seized by the two corners, is vigorously shaken,
and the ninepin has disappeared, or, rather, it is found upon the glass in
place of the apple, which has passed into the prestidigitateur’s pocket.

TRICK WITH AN APPLE AND A NINEPIN.

Second Disappearance (Fig. 2).—The apple, first placed upon the table, is
thrown invisibly toward the paper cone, under which, in fact, it is found.
And the ninepin? The prestidigitateur “had forgotten” to tell it where it was
to go when he sent the apple in its place. As he gives up trying to find it and
seizes the blue vessel in order to put it in place, it is seen that the ninepin,
driven by the apple, has passed underneath.
Fig. 3 renders an explanation scarcely necessary. At the moment that the
paper cone was made, the ninepin, A, was covered with a dummy, B, of thin
metal, which remained in the cone when the latter was removed. In the
napkin, formed of two napkins sewed together by their edges, was
concealed, between the two fabrics, a small disk of cardboard of the same
diameter as the base of the ninepin. The latter was allowed to fall secretly
behind the table into a box lined with silk waste, only the cardboard disk
being held, thanks to which the napkin preserved the same form that it
possessed when the ninepin was beneath it, as shown in Fig. 1. There is no
need of explanation in regard to the apple that comes out of the
prestidigitateur’s pocket and which is similar to the one that remained on

the glass and was hidden by the false ninepin that covered it when the paper
cone alone was removed.
For the second disappearance the apple, placed upon the table, is
surrounded by the two hands of the prestidigitateur, who, while it is thus
concealed, by a blow given with the little finger of the right hand, sends it
rolling on to a shelf behind the table. His hands, nevertheless, preserve the
same position as if they held the apple. It is the first one that is seen upon
the foot of the glass, the false ninepin being removed this time with the
paper cover. Under the glass there is a second false ninepin, C, of metal,
painted dark blue in the interior and which has a narrow flange through
which it rests upon the edge of the glass, of which it seems to form a part.
Fig. 3 shows it in section with the glass, and also the different pieces as they
are arranged at the beginning of the experiment.

A GOBLET OF INK CONVERTED INTO AN AQUARIUM.

FIG. 1.

Exhibit a goblet which is apparently nearly full of ink, and place it upon a
table. In order to prove that the goblet really contains ink, partially immerse
a visiting card in the liquid, and, on taking it out, show that it has been
blackened. With an ordinary spoon dip out some of the ink and pour it into
a saucer. Then, having borrowed a ring, pretend to dip it into the ink, but

really allow it to drop into the saucer. Announce that you are going to make
amends for your awkwardness, not by plunging your hand into the liquid,
which would have the inconvenience of blackening it, but by rendering the
ink colorless instantaneously. Take a white napkin or a large sized silk
handkerchief and cover the glass with it. Upon removing the napkin or
handkerchief, the glass will be found to contain clear water in which living
fish are swimming. The hand may then be dipped into the liquid and the
ring be taken out without fear.

FIG. 2.

The trick is performed as follows: Take a goblet containing water and some
fish, and place against the inner surface a piece of black rubber cloth, to
which attach a black thread that is allowed to hang down a few inches
outside of the glass, and to the extremity of which is attached a small cork.
Of course, the thread and cork must be placed at the side of the glass
opposite the spectator.
Cover the glass with the napkin, and on removing the latter, grasp the cork,
so as to raise it as well as the rubber cloth in the interior.

As for the card, that should have been previously blackened on one side for
about three-quarters of its length, and, after being immersed in the liquid,
with the white side toward the spectator, should be quickly turned around so
as to show the blackened side. As for the liquid taken out with the spoon,
care should have been taken to previously fix in the interior of the bowl a
few particles of aniline black soluble in water, by breathing on the spoon
before introducing the powder, this serving to fix it. Then the water taken
out with the spoon will be converted into ink, which may be poured into a
plate or saucer.

THE INVISIBLE JOURNEY OF A GLASS OF WINE.

Being given an ordinary glass half full of wine, which everybody can
examine closely, and a hat situated at a distance, the question is to cover the
glass with a piece of paper, and thence to send it invisibly into the hat.
A small piece of wood or paper that a spectator has put in the wine, or any
mark whatever that has been made upon the glass, will permit of verifying
the fact that it is really the same glass that was first exhibited, and that is
afterwards found in the hat.
In order to perform this trick, it is necessary to have one of those double
glasses (Fig. 4) that can be easily obtained in variety stores, and which
contain between their double sides a red liquid that has been introduced
through the foot of the glass, which is hollow. A small cork, b, which is
absolutely invisible if it is not examined very closely, is inserted and
withdrawn at will in order to change the liquid; but, for our trick, there is no
occasion to occupy ourselves with these details. This double glass is kept
concealed until the moment arrives for using it.
A second glass—this is a simple one (Fig. 4, B) and of the same appearance
as the other—is filled with wine, in the presence of the spectators, to a level
equal to that reached by the red liquid in the double glass.

TRICK PERFORMED WITH A GLASS OF WINE.

The prestidigitateur, after exhibiting the interior of the hat so as to allow it
to be seen that the latter is empty, introduces into it, while he turns his back
to the spectators, the double glass which he had concealed under his arm,
and which can be handled without any fear of spilling the liquid that it
contains. The hat is then placed upon the table.
Afterward, taking the simple glass in his hands, the prestidigitateur asks the
spectators whether he shall make it pass visibly or invisibly into the hat. As
a usual thing suggestions are divided, and so, in order to please everybody,
the glass is first put ostensibly into the hat and then immediately taken out;
that, at least, is what is thought by the spectators, who are very ready to
laugh at the little hoax played upon those who perhaps expected to see the
glass carried through the air upon the wings of the wind. But the
prestidigitateur has taken care to leave the simple glass in the hat, and to
take out, in place of it, the double glass, which he presently spirits away
with ease by the following process. The glass having been placed upon the
table, he covers it with a square piece of strong paper, which he folds
around it in such a way as to make it follow its contours and completely
conceal it (Fig. 1). This paper, which must be very stiff, as well as strong,

afterward preserves the form upon which, so to speak, it has been molded,
although it is no longer supported by the glass, which has been allowed to
fall behind the table into a sort of pocket of canvas, or into a box lined with
silk waste, arranged to this effect (Fig. 2).
The prestidigitateur, having thus got rid of the glass, walks toward the
spectators, delicately pressing the top of the paper between the thumb and
forefinger of the left hand, as if he still held the glass in the paper, and the
foot of which seems to be supported by the right hand. A spectator is then
invited to take the glass with the paper, and care is taken to advise him not
to allow the wine to run up his sleeves. He then stretches out his hands, but
at the same instant the paper, suddenly crumpled into a ball, is thrown into
the air, and the glass of wine has passed invisibly into the hat.

THE WINE CHANGED TO WATER.

After having done considerable talking, as required by his profession, a
prestidigitateur is excusable for asking permission of his spectators to
refresh himself in their presence, especially if he invites one of them to
come to keep him company.

WATER CHANGED INTO WINE AND WINE INTO WATER.

An assistant then brings in upon a tray two claret glasses and two perfectly
transparent decanters, one of which contains red wine and the other water.
The prestidigitateur asks his guest to select one of the two decanters and
leave the other for himself. No hesitation is possible. The guest hastens to
seize the wine and each immediately fills his glass. How astonishing! Upon
its contact with the glass the wine changes into water and the water
becomes wine. Judge of the hilarity of the spectators and the amazement of
the victim! The pretended wine was nothing but the following composition:
one gram potassium permanganate and two grams sulphuric acid dissolved
in one quart of water. This liquid is instantaneously decolorized on entering
the glass, at the bottom of which has been placed a few drops of water
saturated with sodium hyposulphite. As for the water in the second
decanter, that had had considerable alcohol added to it, and at the bottom of
the glass that was to receive it had been placed a small pinch of aniline red,
which, as well known, possesses strong tinctorial properties. The glasses
must be carried away immediately, since in a few moments the wine
changed into water loses its limpidity and assumes a milky appearance. The
mixtures are, of course, poisonous.

THE ANIMATED MOUSE.

Street venders are often seen selling, at night, a little mouse which they
place upon the back of their hand, and which keeps running as if, having
been tamed, it wished to take refuge upon them. In order to prevent it from
attaining its object, they interpose the other hand, and then the first one,
which is now free, and so on. The mouse keeps on running until the vender
has found a purchaser for it at the moderate price of two cents, including the
instructions for manipulating it, for, as may have been divined, it is not a
question here of a live mouse, but of a toy. This little toy is based upon two
effects—first, an effect of optics; and second, the effect due to an invisible
thread.

THE ANIMATED MOUSE.

The mouse, which is flat beneath, is provided near the head with a small
hook, and the operator has fixed to a buttonhole a thread ten inches in
length, terminating in a loop. He fixes this loop in the hook above
mentioned, and, tautening the thread, places the mouse upon the back of his
left hand (near the little finger, for example).
On moving the hand away from the body, the mouse, which does not stir,
seems to slide over the back of the hand, and, at the moment that it is about
to fall on reaching the thumb, the right hand, passed beneath, arrives just in
time to catch it near the little finger, whence, by the same movement as
before, it seems to go toward the thumb.
In order to perform the experiment off-hand, it suffices to take a cork and
carve it into the form of a mouse, then cut away the under part of the animal
thus rough-shaped, so that it may lie perfectly flat, then make two ears out
of cardboard, and a tail out of a piece of twine, and finally blacken the
whole in the flame of a candle. After this, the black thread, terminating in a
ball of soft wax or a pin hook, having been fixed to a button-hole, allow the
spectators to examine the mouse, and, after it is returned to you, fix the
thread, either by its ball of wax or its hook, to the front of the flat part of the
rodent, which you may then cause to run as above described.

THE SAND FRAME TRICK.

The sand frame is a very ingeniously constructed little apparatus which is
employed in different tricks of prestidigitation for causing the
disappearance of a card, a photograph, a sealed letter, an answer written
upon a sheet of paper, etc.
In appearance it is a simple, plush-covered frame, the back of which opens
with a hinge behind a glass, which, at first sight, presents nothing peculiar.

THE SAND FRAME.

In reality, there are two glasses separated from each other by an interval of
three millimeters. The lower side of the frame is hollow and forms a
reservoir filled with very fine blue sand. In the interior the door is covered
with blue paper of the same shade as the sand. The card, portrait, or letter

that is subsequently to appear is placed in the frame in advance, but, in
order to render it invisible, the latter is held vertically, the reservoir at the
top. The sand then falls, and fills the space that separates the two glasses,
and the blue surface thus formed behind the first glass seems to be the back
of the frame. In order to cause the appearance of the concealed object, the
frame is placed vertically, with the reservoir at the bottom, and covered with
a silk handkerchief. In a few seconds the sand will have disappeared. The
door that closes the back may be opened by a spectator and the frame
shown close by, provided that it be held vertically in order to prevent the
sand from appearing between the two glasses.
Fig. 2 shows the frame as seen from behind. The door, P, is seen open, and
at S is seen the sand falling between the two glasses. In the section at the
side, V and V are the two glasses, P, the door, and R, the reservoir.
Another experiment may be made by means of a small standard on a foot,
A, upon which a spectator has placed the seven of hearts. The card passes
into the frame. To tell the truth, it is removed by the cover, C, along with the
thin disk, D, that covered the foot, A, and upon which it was placed. It will
be said that we have here to do with a double bottom. Allow the cover, C,
before covering the card, and the foot, A, after the experiment is finished, to
be examined. Is the cover asked for again? One will hasten to show it
without saying that the back edge of the table has just been struck with it in
order to cause the disk, D, and the card to fall on to the shelf.

HOUDIN’S MAGIC BALL.

This ball, which was recently seen in a toy shop, has the aspect, externally,
of the one used in the familiar toy known as the “cup and ball.” Extending
through its center there is a straight cylindrical aperture, and when a cord is
passed through the latter, the ball easily slides along it.

HOUDIN’S MAGIC BALL.

If a person who is in the secret holds the cord by its two extremities, things
change, since the ball, far from falling, descends very slowly along the
string, or even remains stationary, and does not move again until the
operator allows it to. This trick, which was formerly performed by Robert-
Houdin with a ball of large size, very much surprised spectators.
How does the affair work? That is explained in the section of the magic ball
shown in the figure. In addition to the central aperture, there is another and
curved one, which ends near the extremities of the axial perforation, and a
person in the secret, while making believe pass the cord through the straight
aperture, actually passes it through the curved one. It will now be apparent
that it is only necessary to tighten the cord more or less in order to retard or
stop the descent of the ball. To the left of the engraving is seen the magic
ball thus suspended between the operator’s hands.

CHAPTER V.
JUGGLERS AND ACROBATIC PERFORMANCES.

JUGGLERS.

The tricks performed by jugglers afford a most wonderful example of the
perfection that our senses and organs are capable of attaining under the
influence of exercise.
The juggler is obliged to give impetuses that vary infinitesimally. He must
know the exact spot whither his ball will go, calculate the parabola that it
will describe, and know the exact time that it will take to describe it. His
eye must take in the position of three, four, or five balls that are sometimes
several yards apart, and he must solve these different problems in optics,
mechanics, and mathematics instantaneously, ten, fifteen, twenty times per
minute, and that, too, in the least convenient position—upon the back of a
running horse, upon a tight-rope, upon a ball, or upon a barrel that he causes
to revolve. His dexterity is wonderful. Many jugglers are content to perform
their feats of skill with their hands, and, in addition, do balancing worthy of
remark.

FIG. 1.

We can obtain experimentally some idea of the dexterity shown by a juggler
by trying for ourselves the simplest of his tricks. Whoever is capable of
throwing two balls into the air at once, and catching them in succession
while standing steadily in the same spot, and without being obliged to step
to the right or left, or undergoing contortions, is endowed with an
undoubted aptitude for juggling. On the other hand, whoever can stand
upright upon a rickety chair without any feeling of fear, or cross a country
brook, not upon a tight-rope or wire (which would be too much to ask for a
début), but upon a plank of two hands’ width, and do this without a quick
palpitation of the heart, has an aptitude for tight-rope walking.

FIG. 2.

To perform with a couple of balls, however, is quite simple, and many
children succeed in it after a few days’ practice. They proceed as follows:
Having a ball in each hand, they throw the one in the right vertically into
the air, pass into the right the one that is in the left and throw this up too,
receive the first ball in the left hand, and pass it into the right, throw it up
again, and so on; so that the two balls are almost constantly in the air, save
during the time it takes to receive the ball with one hand and pass it into the
other. If, instead of using both hands, the child employs but one, receiving
and throwing one ball while the other is in the air, the difficulty is greater,
and the young man who can perform this operation twenty times without
dropping one of the balls can treat the artist of the circus as a confrère. To
perform with three balls it is necessary to have been taught by a professor.
Moreover, it should be remarked that the art of juggling has sufficient
advantages as regards the development of the touch, the quick calculation
of distances, the nimbleness of the fingers, and the accuracy of the eye and

of motion, to cause it to be added to those gymnastic exercises which
children are taught at school. It is to this art that the celebrated
prestidigitateur Robert-Houdin attributed the dexterity and accuracy that he
displayed in his tricks. In his memoirs, he relates that, while taking some
lessons from an old juggler, he applied himself so closely to the exercises
that at the end of a month he could learn nothing further from his instructor.
“I succeeded,” says he, “in performing with four balls, but that did not
satisfy my ambition. I wished, if it were possible, to surpass that faculty of
reading by appreciation, which I had so much admired in pianists; so I
placed a book in front of me, and, while the four balls were flying in the air,
accustomed myself to read without hesitation. It could not be believed how
much delicacy and certainty of execution this exercise communicated to my
fingers, and what quickness of perception it gave my eye. After in this way
rendering my hands supple and obedient, I no longer hesitated to directly
practice prestidigitation.”
In order to keep their hand in, professional jugglers have to exercise daily,
since a few days of voluntary or forced rest would necessitate double work
in order to give the hands their former suppleness and dexterity. As is well
known, the same is the case with the agility of the danseuse, with whom
one day of rest often means more than eight days of double work.

FIG. 3.

Some jugglers perform with objects of the most diverse nature, throwing
up, for example, at the same time, a large ball, an orange, and a piece of
paper, and giving these articles of different size and weight such an
impulsion that each falls and is thrown again at the moment desired. Some
jugglers, as a support, use merely a simple wooden bar held vertically, and
upon the top of which they perform their various feats of dexterity or
contortion. It is the same apparatus formerly used by Greek acrobats, and,
by reason of its form, called πεταυρον (perch for fowls). Some acrobats
even balance themselves on the head at the top of this perch, with their legs
extended in lieu of a balancing pole. Their arms are free, and they eat,
drink, smoke, shoot off a pistol, perform with balls and daggers, and, in a
word, perform the most diverse feats (Fig. 2).
Some jugglers are capable of performing extremely curious feats of
dexterity with the most diverse objects; for example, with rings that they
throw into the air, with hats that they revolve by striking the rim, or with a
flag or napkin that they revolve. These hats and napkins no longer seem to

obey the laws of gravity. Others, by means of a streamer, form helices and
graceful curves; and others, again, by means of a simple bit of paper,
succeed in reproducing the Japanese butterfly trick. Japanese maidens are
noted for performing this with extraordinary grace and skill.

THE LEAMY REVOLVING TRAPEZE.

The application of mechanics to scenic and gymnastic displays has an
interesting exponent in the revolving trapeze, an exhibition which, after
attracting much attention in England, has come back to the United States.
In the smaller cut we illustrate the mechanism of the apparatus, while the
performance executed upon the apparatus is shown in the larger cut. From
the ceiling of the great auditorium is suspended a vertical three sided
rectangular frame open at the bottom. In its lower extremity is journaled at
the center a four-sided rectangular frame, from whose extremities two
trapezes hang. To the upper side of the vertical frame is secured a bicycle,
which, by gearing shown in the small cut, connects with the axle of the
lower frame, so that when the cranks of the bicycle are worked the lower
frame is turned round and round. It can be brought into accurate balance by
means of shot. The whole apparatus, including the bicycle, is studded with
incandescent electric lamps, and the performer who rides the bicycle wears
a helmet carrying electric lights. The very striking performance is explained
in great measure by the cut.

DIAGRAM OF THE REVOLVING TRAPEZE

One of the performers sits on the bicycle and, turning the cranks, as if
riding, keeps the lower frame in rotation, while two performers go through
different evolutions on the trapezes thus carried around through the air. A
switch board is placed at the head of the bicycle, and by manipulating
switches the vari-colored electric lights are turned on and off so as to
produce any desired effect. Independent of the high merit of the
performance simply as gymnastics, the mechanical points are of value; for
ease and safety of manipulation and security from any failure is an absolute
essential. No one has anything to do with its operation except the three
performers, so that it is constantly under their control. Where any attempt is
made to operate such mechanism from behind the scenes, there is always a
great liability of trouble or partial failure; but here the performer on the
bicycle does all the work of actuating the mechanical portion and has every
part under constant supervision and control, while the illuminated bicycle,
located as it is at great height from the floor, is an added attraction. The

length of the trapeze ropes, it will be observed, is so adjusted as to allow the
performer to pass through the frame without touching it, and the absence of
a center bar in the frame is necessary to the same end.

THE LEAMY REVOLVING TRAPEZE.

WALKING ON THE CEILING HEAD DOWN.

A performance of considerable scientific interest has been produced in this
and other cities which is presented in the accompanying illustration.[1] In
order to procure a perfectly smooth surface to walk on, a board twenty-four
and one-half feet long is suspended from the ceiling, and near one end of

this is a trapeze. The lower surface of the board is painted, and is smooth
and polished. The performer, who is known as Aimée, the human fly, is
equipped with pneumatic attachments to the soles of her shoes. Sitting in
the trapeze with her face to the audience, she draws herself upward by the
arms, and raises her feet until they press against the board. They adhere by
atmospheric pressure. She leaves the trapeze, and hangs head downward, as
shown. Taking very short steps, not over eight inches in length, she
gradually walks the length of the board backward. She then slowly turns
round, taking very short steps while turning, and eventually returns, still
walking backward. This closes the performance.
[1] The performer ascends to the top of the audience hall and walks on the ceiling, head
down. The ease with which it is apparently done is marvelous.

To provide against accident a net is stretched under the board. The
performer has frequently fallen, but so far no serious accident has
happened. There is a certain art in managing the fall, as, if the shock were
received directly by the spinal column, it might be very severe.
The attachment to the shoe is, in general terms, an india-rubber sucker with
cup-shaped adhering surface. It is a disk four and one-half inches in
diameter and five-eighths of an inch thick. To its center a stud is attached,
which is perforated near the end. This stud enters a socket fastened to the
sole of the shoe. The socket is also perforated transversely. A pin is passed
through the apertures, securing the hold between socket and disk. The
socket is under the instep and is attached to the shank of the shoe sole.
A wire loop that extends forward under the toe of the shoe is pivoted on two
studs which are secured on each end of the transverse central diameter of
the disk. This loop is normally held away from the disk and pressing against
the shoe sole by a spring. One end of the loop projects back toward and
over the rear edge of the disk. A short piece of string is secured to the india
rubber and passes through a hole in the extension, or rearwardly projecting
arm, of the loop. The disk when pressed against a smooth surface is held
fast by the pressure of the atmosphere. If now the loop is pressed toward the
surface to which it adheres, the string will be drawn tight and will pull the
edge of the india rubber away from the board. Air will rush in, and the
adhesion will cease. As each new step is taken, one disk is made to adhere
by pressure, and the other is detached by the action just described.

The power of the disk to sustain the weight of a performer may be easily
calculated.

“AIMÉE,” THE HUMAN FLY.

Each sucker is 41⁄2 inches in diameter, and contains therefore 16 square
inches of surface. The full atmospheric pressure for the area would amount
to 240 pounds. The stud and socket attachment provides a central bearing,
so that the full advantage of this and the disk is obtained, and a fairly
perfect vacuum procured. As the performer only weighs about 125 pounds,
there is about 115 pounds to spare with a perfect vacuum.

THE MYSTERIOUS BALL.

At the circus of the Champs Elysées, at Paris, a performance was given a
few years ago that would really put the sagacity of the spectators to the test,
did not the performer explain it after his exhibition.
A ball, thirty inches in diameter, is brought into the ring and placed on top
of a sloping bridge formed of two planks with an intervening platform (Fig.
1). All at once the ball begins to rock a little, and then moves to the edge of
the platform, whence one might expect to see it roll immediately to the base
of the inclined plane; but it does nothing of the sort. It stops at the edge and
begins to descend with precaution. It seems to hesitate, passes over but a
small space, then ascends a little, stops again, and then starts off again in
fine style. When it has reached the base of the inclined plane, the lower
extremity of which is about twenty inches from the ground, it stops, and
then rapidly ascends to the top again. Here the mystery begins to be
explained. All at once a flag is seen to make its exit through a small
aperture, then a shot is fired from the interior; the ball is certainly inhabited.
This we soon have proof of, for, after rolling rapidly to the base of the
second inclined plane, it falls upon a cushion placed upon the ground,
where a man steps forth from it. It is the clown Lepère. It is very surprising
to see a man of such a stature (five feet) make his exit from so small a ball.
Although we have seen “india-rubber men” who could place themselves in
so confined a space, we cannot compare their performance to that of M.
Lepère, who not only places himself within his ball, but moves therein with
a skill that is truly wonderful. It is necessary, in fact, to have a remarkable
sense of equilibrium and remarkable suppleness to be able, in such a
position, to continually displace the center of gravity of the ball and keep it
always in the vertical plane passing through the axis of the bridge. Our
second engraving shows how M. Lepère places himself. After the ball is
closed, an equilibrium exists only when he is seated.

FIG. 1.—THE MYSTERIOUS BALL.

When he wishes to make his ball move forward, he must bend over and
walk upon his hands and knees, after the manner of a squirrel in his wheel.
But how many precautions have to be taken to make the axis of the body
coincide with that of the bridge, so that the ball shall not fall from the
inclined plane, which is but twelve inches wide! And what agility does it
not require to react immediately against the velocity acquired after the ball,
in consequence of a displacement, has begun to roll! Center of gravity,
velocity, and inertia are principles of mechanics that exhibitions of strength
and dexterity often put under contribution. Although clowns do not bother
themselves much with learning the principles of mechanics upon which
their performances are based, they apply them with wonderful dexterity and
have a sort of instinct, a special aptitude, which permits them quickly to
find the position of equilibrium. The performance that M. Lepère presents
in so ingenious and new a fashion is an evident proof of this.

FIG. 2.—THE CLOWN IN THE MYSTERIOUS BALL.

CHAPTER VI.
FIRE EATERS AND SWORD TRICKS.

FIRE EATERS—TRICKS WITH FIRE.

A MOUNTEBANK LICKING A RED-HOT BAR OF IRON.

Burning is undoubtedly that kind of pain against which the human being
most strongly revolts, and the fear of being burned is not confined to man
alone, but exists also as an instinct in the entire animal kingdom. This fear,
the horror of being burned, which is so powerful in men, accounts for the
fact that in all times the wonder and curiosity of the public have been
excited by those who are capable of handling burning coals or red-hot iron
with impunity, or of touching molten metal, and by those who are proof
against flames or burning water or oil. There are many examples in history
of individuals who are more or less fireproof, and the trials by fire in
ancient and mediæval times do not need to be cited here. It was not until
about 1677 that the question of the proof of man against fire was looked at
from a scientific standpoint. This was done by the physician Dodart, a
member of the Academy of Sciences. These studies were provoked by the
wonderful tricks which were being performed at that time in Paris by an
English chemist named Richardson. Dodart explained that these
experiments could be performed without the aid of any chemical
preparation, by taking a few precautions, and also that the success of them

depended upon the hardening that the epidermis may acquire under the
influence of an oft-repeated action.
This hardening of the skin among laborers results in their frequently being
able to handle red-hot iron and lighted coals with impunity. This, however,
does not suffice to explain the tricks of those individuals who exhibit in
public as fireproof. The experiments of the Italian physician and chemist,
Sementini, have shown that there are preparations which, when put upon
the skin, render the latter absolutely insensible to contact with fire or
incandescent materials. His first experiments had no result; finally, after
submitting himself to repeated friction with sulphurous acid, he was
enabled to apply a red-hot iron to his skin with impunity. Continuing his
experiments, he found that a solution of alum had the same property. One
day, having accidentally rubbed soap upon the surface of a hand that had
previously been impregnated with alum, he found that the hand was still
further proof against fire. He then discovered that a layer of powdered sugar
covered with soap sufficed to render his tongue entirely insensible to heat.
After all these experiments Sementini succeeded in making himself much
better proof against fire than was the charlatan who first suggested the
experiment to him.

FIRE EATERS AT THE OLYMPIA THEATER, PARIS.

Fire eaters have always been very popular on the vaudeville stage, and we
present an engraving showing two fire eaters at the Olympia Theater, Paris.
When the performers appear upon the stage, they are clad in a tight-fitting
costume of a red color which represents that of the devils of fairy scenes.
The stage upon which they appear is but dimly lighted during their presence
upon it. The devils, after making their bow, go to the rear of the stage, and
put some preparations upon their hands; they come to the front of the stage
and cause very thin but brilliant flames to dart from their fingers; bringing
these flames near to their mouths, they seem to swallow them and then
extinguish them between their teeth. When the two devils touch each
other’s hands a crackling sound is heard, and long flames dart forth for a
few seconds from the tips of their fingers, which they continuously move.
They subsequently experiment without putting anything in their mouths;
they blow with energy, and a brilliant flame makes its exit from between
their lips. They shoot forth a bed of flame for a considerable length of time,
which certainly exceeds half a minute. The combustion is due to a very
volatile essence.
Certain eaters of burning tow proceed as follows: They form a little ball of
material which they tightly compress and then light, and allow to burn up
almost entirely. Then rolling this in new tow in order to guard the mucous
membrane in the mouth against contact with the incandescent ball, they
breathe gently, taking care while doing so to inhale only through the nose,
and thus project smoke and sparks.

MOUNTEBANK SWALLOWING BURNING TOW.

Another trick of the fire eaters is when they pretend to drink burning oil. A
little kerosene oil is poured into an iron ladle. The oil is now lighted, and
while the ladle is held in the left hand, an iron spoon is dipped into the oil
as though to take a spoonful; but in reality the spoon is only wet, and when
it is brought blazing to the mouth the operator throws back his head as
though to swallow it, and at the same time a slight puff is given by the
breath, which blows it out. This trick is very effective if well done, but the
reader is especially cautioned against trying any experiments in tricks of
this kind, as the results are apt to be dangerous except in the hands of
experts. This will be seen by what is called the sponge trick. Two or three
small sponges are placed in an iron ladle, gasolene is poured over them,
only a sufficient quantity being used to wet them; they must in no case drip.
The sponges are now set on fire, and the experimenter takes up one of them
with his tongs, and, throwing his head back, drops the blazing sponge into
his mouth. He expels his breath quickly all the time. Suddenly he closes his
mouth; this cuts off the oxygen necessary for combustion, and the flame
immediately goes out. Performers who present fire tricks for the amusement

of a company frequently try experiments which give a ghastly appearance
to the audience. This is done by pouring a few ounces of alcohol into a
basin containing a handful of salt. When this is lighted the complexion of
everyone is hideous. A slightly different effect is used by infusing saffron in
alcohol for a number of hours, and then adding salt as before; it is usually
poured upon tow which is lighted. There are some liquids that have the
property of taking fire and burning without injuring the object upon which
they are poured and without producing any painful sensation upon the skin.
As a usual thing such liquids are very volatile and consist of essential oils,
ether, etc. The reason that some substances can be burned without injuring
them, or upon the skin without burning, are explained as follows: These
substances are very volatile, and their tension is considerable, and, in
reality, when they are burning, it is merely their vapor which is on fire. This
vapor then tends to borrow heat from the liquid, whence the latter may
remain at a relatively low temperature while the surface is on fire. This is a
reasonable explanation of the curious phenomenon of the burning liquid.

SWORD TRICK—A STAB THROUGH THE ABDOMEN.

The sword employed is a simple, thin, flexible blade of steel, not at all
sharp, and the plan of which is seen at A in the accompanying cut. The point
is sufficiently blunt to prevent it from doing any harm.
As for the prestidigitateur, whose body the sword will simply pass around,
but not pierce, he carries concealed beneath his vest a sort of sheath that
consists of a tube of rectangular section, and semicircular in shape, and the
two extremities of which are bent in contrary directions in such a way that
they are situated in the same straight line, the two orifices opening in front
and behind at right angles with the abdomen. This apparatus, B, is held in
place by cords attached to two small rings at the two extremities of the tube.
It is the prestidigitateur himself who, appearing instinctively to grasp the
point of the sword as if to protect himself, directs it into the metallic tube. It
makes its exit between the tails of the coat. It might be made to come out at
the center of the back, but in this case it would be necessary to have an
aperture formed in the seam of the coat. The illusion produced is complete,
seeing that the flexible blade straightens out on making its exit from the

tube, on account of the form of the latter’s extremity. It is necessary to
operate rapidly, so that the spectators shall not have time to see that the
length of the sword has diminished at this moment, the curved line that it
follows not being the shortest passage from one point to another.

A SWORD TRICK.

The figure represents a variant of the trick in which the sword is provided
with an eye through which a long red ribbon is passed, and which follows
the blade when the latter is pulled out at the opposite side of the body.

THE HUMAN TARGET.

Japanese jugglers, as well known, are possessed of very extraordinary skill.
A few years ago two of them performed the following feat, which required
a wonderful dexterity. One of them stood, with arms extended, in front of a
thick board placed vertically; and the other, armed with a number of wide-
bladed knives, stationed himself at a distance of about six yards from the
board, and from thence threw the knives with a sure hand and stuck one of
them in the board just above the head of the target, two of them very close

to the right and left of the neck, and others around the arms; in a word, he
outlined the form of his companion with the knives stuck very deeply into
the board. This performance met with extraordinary success, and an effort
was at once made to reproduce it; but as such dexterity is not possessed by
everybody, and as, in addition, the operation is dangerous, the following
substitute was devised by M. Voisin for the use of prestidigitateurs.

JAPANESE KNIFE-THROWING EXECUTED BY MEANS OF A MECHANICAL DEVICE.
FIG. 2.—DETAILS OF THE MECHANISM THAT CAUSES THE KNIFE TO APPEAR.

The board that is employed in this case, instead of being, as in the genuine
performance, a simple one, is a piece of cabinet work containing an

ingenious mechanism. The place which the human target will occupy on
this board is carefully marked, and the knives that are to be stuck into the
board in succession around such place are contained in the cabinet work,
which, at first sight and at a short distance, seems to be absolutely without
preparation.
Each of these knives is fixed by its point upon a pivot. In addition, it is
controlled by a spring, and is concealed within the board by a very finely
adjusted double-valved window, which, at the proper moment, opens and
allows it to appear, and then closes. The spring causes the knife to fall or
rise according to the place that the latter is to occupy. No. 2 of the
engraving shows the window opening to allow of the fall of the knife,
which will appear as if stuck into the board just above the instep. In each of
the valves the angles that meet each other are cut slopingly either at the top
or bottom, according as the knife is to fall or rise, in order to make space for
the blade when the valves are closed. Before the exit of the knife, the
incision is closed with modeling wax the color of the wood. In our
engraving the incision is at the bottom.
Naturally the knives are concealed in the board in such a way that on
making their exit the field shall be free, and that they shall not come into
contact with the limbs of the target. Each of these knives, with its window,
forms a distinct apparatus, which is controlled by a rod that ends at the edge
of the board just at the place where the fingers of the human target can
reach them. It is he who, by pressing upon the ends of the rods as if upon
the keys of a piano, causes the blades to come out of their place of
concealment, one after another, and appear as if they had just stuck into the
board. The sound made by the spring in expanding and the sudden
appearance of the knife, combined with the motion of the person throwing
it, affords a complete illusion. Let us add that each knife mounted on a pivot
at its point, as we have explained, may be easily disengaged from its axis
when, after the operation, the person who threw the knives makes believe to
pull them out by force from the wood in which they seem to be inserted.
The board having been invented, it became necessary to find a method of
throwing the knives in such a way as to cause them to disappear. To this
effect the board is placed on one side of the stage, near the side scenes, and
the person who throws the knives stations himself on the other side of the

stage, near the opposite side scenes, and he can therefore act in two ways,
viz., first, in poising his arms to take aim, he can, at the last moment, throw
the knife between the side scenes back of him while he takes a step forward.
The knife supposed to be thrown thus disappears completely at the desired
moment, but, since the spectators do not see the flash of the blade,
traversing the stage, it is preferable to employ the second method. This
consists in a genuine throwing of the knife, but in such a way as to cause it
to pass by the board and fall between the side scenes, where the sound of its
fall is deadened by some such material as a piece of carpet. In both of these
two methods, it is for the human target to press the spring of the knife that
he wishes to make appear at just the precise moment, in order that the click
of the expanding spring may be taken by the spectators for the sound of the
knife sticking into the wood.
This trick, when well executed, has often deceived the shrewdest spectators,
and that, too, with so much the more facility in that many had seen the
Japanese perform in the middle of a circus, where it was impossible to
conceal the knife, since it could be followed by the eye in its travel from the
hand of the Japanese to the point where it penetrated the board.
To be precise, and to omit no information, let us say in conclusion, that
there exist boards in which the freeing of the knives is effected by the
pulling of a thread held in the side scenes by a third party. This process has
the advantage that there is no danger of the spectators seeing the
manipulation of the rods; but, on the other hand, it has its inconveniences,
viz., in a place where a communication cannot be established between the
invisible confederate and the mechanical board, the use of it is impossible,
and it is necessary to employ the other method.

SWORD SWALLOWERS.

When a physician introduces his finger, the handle of a spoon, or a pencil
into the throat of a patient, the latter experiences an extremely disagreeable
sensation. Any touching of the pharynx, however slight it be, causes
strangling, pain, and nausea, and the organ reacts with violence against the
obstacle that presents itself to free respiration. There is no one who has not
more than once experienced this disagreeable impression, and for this

reason we are justly surprised when we meet with people who seem to be
proof against it, and who, for example, introduce into their pharynx large,
solid, and stiff objects like sword blades, and cause these to penetrate to a
depth that appears incredible. It is experiments of this kind that constitute
the tricks of sword swallowers.
These experiments are nearly always the same. The individual comes out
dressed in a brilliant costume. At one side of him there are flags of different
nationalities surrounding a panoply of sabers, swords, and yatagans, and at
the other, a stack of guns provided with bayonets. Taking a flat saber, whose
blade and hilt have been cut out of the same sheet of metal, the blade being
from fifty-five to sixty centimeters in length, he introduces its extremity
into his throat, taps the hilt gently, and the blade at length entirely
disappears. He then repeats the experiment in swallowing the blade at a
single gulp. Subsequently, after swallowing and disgorging two of these
same swords, he causes one to penetrate up to its guard, a second not quite
so far, a third a little less still, and a fourth up to about half its length, the
hilts being then arranged as shown in our third illustration (C).

A SWORD SWALLOWER.

Pressing now on the hilts, he swallows the four blades at a gulp, and then he
takes them out leisurely one by one. The effect is quite surprising. After
swallowing several different swords and sabers, he takes an old musket
armed with a triangular bayonet, and swallows the latter, the gun remaining
vertical over his head. Finally he borrows a large saber from a dragoon who
is present for the purpose, and causes two-thirds of it to disappear. As a
trick, on being encored, the sword swallower borrows a cane from a person
in the audience, and swallows it almost entirely.

POSITION OCCUPIED BY THE SWORD BLADE
IN THE BODY.

A certain number of spectators usually think that the performer produces an
illusion through the aid of some trick, and that it is impossible to swallow a
sword blade. But this is a mistake, for sword swallowers who employ
artifices are few in number and their experiments but slightly varied, while
the majority really do introduce into their mouths and food passages the
blades that they cause to disappear. They attain this result as follows:

The back parts of the mouth, despite their sensitiveness and their rebellion
against contact with solid bodies, are capable of becoming so changed
through habit that they gradually get used to abnormal contacts. This fact is
taken advantage of in medicine. It daily happens that persons afflicted with
disorders of the throat or stomach can no longer swallow or take
nourishment, and would die of exhaustion were they not fed artificially by
means of the œsophageal tube. This latter is a vulcanized rubber tube which
the patient swallows, after the manner of sword swallowers, and through the
extremity of which milk or bouillon is introduced. But the patient, before
being able to make daily use of this apparatus, must serve a genuine
apprenticeship. The first introduction of the end of the tube into the pharynx
is extremely painful, the second is a little less so, and it is only after a large
number of trials, more or less prolonged, that the patient succeeds in
swallowing ten or twelve inches of the tubing without a disagreeable
sensation.
The washing out of the stomach, performed by means of a long, flexible
tube which the patient partially swallows, and with which he injects into
and removes from his stomach a quantity of tepid water by raising the tube
or letting it hang down to form a siphon, likewise necessitates an
apprenticeship of some days; but the patient succeeds in accustoming his
organs to contact with the tube, and is finally able, after a short time, to
swallow the latter with indifference, at least.
With these sword swallowers it is absolutely the same; for with them it is
only as a consequence of repeated trials that the pharynx becomes
sufficiently accustomed to it to permit them to finally swallow objects as
large and rigid as swords, sabers, canes, and even billiard cues.
Swallowers of forks and spoons serve an analogous apprenticeship. As
known, the talent of these consists in their ability to introduce into the
throat a long spoon or fork while holding it suspended by its extremity
between two fingers. This trick is extremely dangerous, since the
œsophagus exerts a sort of suction on all bodies that are introduced into it.
The spoon or fork is, then, strongly attracted, and if the individual cannot
hold it, it will drop into his stomach, whence it can only be extracted by a
very dangerous surgical operation—gastrotomy. It was accidents of this
kind that made the “forkman” and the “knifeman” celebrated, and, more

recently, the “spoonman” who died from the effects of the extraction from
his stomach of a sirup spoon.
All sword swallowers do not proceed in the same way. Some swallow the
blade directly, without any intermediate apparatus; but in this case, their
sabers are provided at the extremity, near the point, with a small bayonet-
shaped appendage over which they slip a gutta-percha tip without the
spectators perceiving it (F and G). Others do not even take such a
precaution, but swallow the saber or sword just as it is.
This is the mode of procedure of an old zouave, especially, who has become
a poor juggler, and who, in his experiments, allows the spectators to touch,
below his sternum, the projection that the point of the saber in his stomach
makes on his skin.
But the majority of sword swallowers who exhibit upon the stage employ a
guiding tube which they have previously swallowed, so that the
experiments they are enabled to perform become less dangerous and can be
varied more. This tube, which is from forty-five to fifty centimeters long, is
made of very thin metal. Its width is twenty-five millimeters, and its
thickness fifteen (B). These dimensions permit of the easy introduction of
flat-bladed sabers, among other things, and of the performance of the four-
sabers experiment, and of the introduction of sabers and swords of all kinds.
To explain the latter from a physiological standpoint, the saber swallowed
by the performer enters the mouth and pharynx first, then the œsophagus,
traverses the cardiac opening of the stomach, and enters the latter as far as
the antrum of the pylorus—the small cul-de-sac of the stomach. In their
normal state these organs are not in a straight line, but are placed so by the
passage of the sword. In the first place, the head is thrown back so that the
mouth is in the direction of the œsophagus, the curves of which disappear
or become less; the angle that the œsophagus makes with the stomach
becomes null; and, finally, the last-named organ distends in a vertical
direction and its internal curve disappears, thus permitting the blade to
traverse the stomach through its greater diameter; that is to say, to reach the
small cul-de-sac. It should be understood that before such a result can be
attained the stomach must have been emptied through fasting on the part of
the operator.

The depth of fifty-five to sixty centimeters to which these men cause their
instruments to penetrate, and which seems extraordinary to spectators, is
explained by the dimensions of the organs traversed. Such lengths may be
divided thus:
Mouth and pharynx, 10 to 12; œsophagus, 25 to 28; distended stomach, 20
to 22—55 to 62 centimeters.

VARIOUS APPARATUS FOR SWORD SWALLOWERS.

According to the stature of the individual, a length of organs of from 55 to
62 centimeters may give passage to swallowed swords without
inconvenience.
Sword swallowing exhibitors have rendered important services to medicine.
It was due to one of them—a swallower of both swords and pebbles—that,
in 1777, a Scotch physician, Stevens, was enabled to make the first studies

upon the gastric juice of human beings. In order to do this, he caused this
individual to swallow small metallic tubes pierced with holes and filled
with meat according to Reaumur’s method, and got him to disgorge them
again after a certain length of time. It was also sword swallowers who
showed physicians to what extent the pharynx could become habituated to
contact; and from this resulted the invention of the Foucher tube, the
œsophageal tube, the washing out of the stomach, and the illumination of
the latter organ by the electric light.
It sometimes happens that sword swallowers who exhibit in public squares
and at street corners are, at the same time, swallowers of pebbles, like him
whose talents were utilized by Stevens; that is to say, they have the faculty
of swallowing pebbles of various sizes, sometimes even stones larger than a
hen’s egg, and that, too, to the number of four, five, or six, sometimes more,
and of afterward disgorging them one by one through a simple contraction
of the stomach. Here we have a new example of the modification of
sensitiveness and function that an individual may secure in his organs by
determination and constant practice.
In conclusion, let us say a word in regard to the tricks that produce the
illusion of swallowed swords or sabers. One of these, which deceives only
at a certain distance, consists in plunging the saber into a tube that descends
along the neck and chest, under the garments, and the opening of which,
placed near the mouth, is hidden by means of a false beard. Another and
much more ingenious one, which has been employed in several
enchantment scenes, is that of the sword whose blade enters its hilt, and
which is due to M. Voisin, the skillful manufacturer of physical apparatus.
In its ordinary state this sword has a stiff blade, eighty centimeters in
length, which, when looked at from a distance of a few meters, presents no
peculiarity (see D in our engraving); but when the exhibitor plunges it into
his mouth, the spectator sees it descend by degrees, and finally so nearly
disappear that but a few centimeters of the blade protrude. In reality, the
blade has entered into the hilt, for it possesses a solid tip that enters the
middle part, which is hollow, and these two parts enter into the one that
forms the base of the sword. The blade is thus reduced to about twenty-five
centimeters, a half of which length enters the hilt. There then remain but a
few centimeters outside the exhibitor’s mouth, so that he seems to have
swallowed the sword (see G and E). This is a very neat trick.

THE SWORD WALKER.

Of all the daring tricks that have been introduced in the circus, none have
caused more comment than the one in which a person, generally a lady,
walks with bare feet up a ladder of sharp swords, treading directly on the
sharp edges without any injury to the feet.
It is amusing to a person who is acquainted with the secret to hear the many
explanations of “how it is done” offered by the spectators, yet none of them
ever come near guessing the truth. This secret has been so jealously and
successfully guarded that very few, even among the best informed experts,
know how it is performed.
From the illustration it will be seen how the swords are arranged in a rack
with the cutting edges on top. The rack is usually about seven feet high, and
eight swords are used. One of the most necessary points in the preparation
for the trick is that the rack should stand firm, and the swords fit snug and
tight in the slots made to receive them.
Usually the inspectors are invited to examine the rack as well as the swords,
and paper is cut with the swords to show that they are really sharp. The
secret is not in the swords or rack, but in the preparation of the performer’s
feet. In a pint of water as much alum is dissolved as the water will readily
take up. To the alum water is added as much zinc sulphate, thoroughly
dissolved, as will lie on a silver dime.
A few minutes before doing the act the performer bathes the feet in this
solution and allows them to dry without wiping. Just before leaving the
dressing-room the feet are dipped for a moment in as cold water as can be
secured, and at once wiped dry without rubbing.
By placing the feet squarely on the swords there is no danger, but great care
must be used not to allow the foot to slide or slip on the sword, or the result
would be a very bad accident.

SWORD WALKER.

On leaving the circus in which one has seen the above act, visitors are
almost sure to see before the ever-present side show a large painting on
which is the representation of a Mexican dancing with bare feet in a shallow
box filled with broken glass.
If you are of an inquisitive nature, and have seen a lady walk with bare feet
up a ladder of sharp swords, you enter the side show to see this new
wonder.

GLASS DANCER.

On a raised platform is found a box about four feet long, three feet wide,
and six inches deep, the bottom of which is covered with broken glass. In a
few moments a man dressed in the Mexican costume appears on the
platform and proceeds to break a few old bottles and throw the broken glass
in the box, then removes his shoes, shows his feet to be free from any
covering, steps in the box, and dances among the glass. After he has
finished dancing he shows his feet to be uninjured, and retires. The trick is
performed in the following manner:
Secure a number of thick glass bottles, break them in rather small pieces
and file or grind all the sharp edges round. This stock of glass you place in
the center of a box made according to above measurement. Now soak your
feet in strong alum water and wipe dry, and give them a thorough rubbing
with pulverized rosin. Dust the inside of your shoes with rosin, put them on,
and go upon the platform. Take some old lamp chimneys and bottles, break
them in bits, and throw this fresh broken glass in the box, around the edges
and in the corners, not in the center. Remove your shoes, step in the center
of the box, among the prepared glass, and do your dancing. Avoid the sides
or corners of the box, where you have thrown the glass, and you run no risk

of cutting your feet, especially if you use plenty of rosin. The amateur
hardly needs to be informed that such tricks should be left entirely to
professionals.

CHAPTER VII.
VENTRILOQUISM AND ANIMATED PUPPETS.

Ventriloquists may, according to their specialties, be divided into various
categories. Some devote their talent to the imitation of the cries of animals,
the songs of birds, the noise of tools, etc.; others imitate the sound of
musical instruments; some mock the noise produced by a crowd, a
regiment, or a procession; while others, again, make dolls or dummies
speak.
Certain ventriloquists imitate the sound of musical instruments, from that of
the violin up to that of brass instruments with the most piercing notes.
Others excel in imitating the noise of the plane, saw, etc.
Certain ventriloquists, while hidden by a screen simply, have the faculty of
making their audience believe that several persons, or even a crowd, are in
the vicinity.
At Egyptian Hall, London, a magician recently made his appearance upon
the stage, carrying a doll, with which he held a somewhat uncouth
conversation. The lips of the doll were observed to move, and the illusion
was complete, when all at once the doll’s head was strangely transformed.
The magician had just opened his hand, showing that it was the latter alone
that—inclosed in a white glove upon which were a few colored marks—
formed the doll’s head.
In our engraving may be seen two methods of arranging the fingers for
forming a doll’s head with the hand. The illusion is produced by making a
few simple lines with charcoal, and wrapping a handkerchief or napkin
around the hand; then, if one has a little aptness for ventriloquism, he may
hold a conversation with the head.

In our time, most ventriloquists who exhibit in public considerably facilitate
the illusion that they desire to produce by using large articulated dummies,
which they make speak and sing, and talk to one another—each in a
different voice. These figures are so constructed that the ventriloquist’s
hands can move their arms and legs, turn their heads to the right or left, give
their shoulders a shrug, open or close their eyes, and move their lower jaws
in such a way that their mouths seem to utter the words that the spectator
hears.
We may say, in a general way, that these ventriloquists, thanks to the use of
their dummies, succeed in producing so complete an illusion that people are
frequently persuaded that the voice heard actually comes from the mouth of
the figure, and that it does not proceed from the ventriloquist standing near
the latter, but from a confederate hidden somewhere about, whose voice is
heard through the intermedium of a speaking-tube.

METHOD OF MAKING FACES WITH THE HAND.

There is one trick that always tends to confirm the spectator’s illusion, and
that is this: in the little prefatory speech that the ventriloquist makes, he
gives out that he is a foreigner, and does not speak the language of his
audience well; in fact, he expresses himself with difficulty and with a strong
accent. His dummies, on the contrary, answer in very good French or
English, as the case may be; and when the auditors hear them, they are led
to believe that ventriloquism counts for nothing in their answers or
conversation.
Explanation of Ventriloquism.—The art of ventriloquism is primarily based
upon an acoustic phenomenon—the difficulty that the ear experiences in
determining the exact point whence comes the sound that it hears. That
there is such an incertitude as to the direction of sounds is easily verified,
and the following are a few cases in proof of it. Mr. Stuart Cumberland, a
mind reader, who exhibited at Paris a few years ago, performed a little
experiment in the drawing-room, after his “second-sight” séances, which
usually resulted in surprising and amusing his auditors. In this experiment, a
willingly disposed person, being seated in the middle of the room, allowed
his eyes to be bandaged. Then Mr. Cumberland took a five-franc piece and
made it jingle by striking it with a hard object, say a key or another coin.
The person submitted to the experiment then had to tell the direction from
whence the sound emanated, and to give the distance at which it seemed to
him to have been made. In almost all cases the individual guessed a
direction and distance very different from the real one, and the error, which
was ofttimes great, naturally provoked great hilarity from the spectators.
Moreover, Mr. Cumberland, by varying the position of his hand in such a
way that the latter formed a screen between the coin and the ear of the
blindfolded person, caused the latter’s perception as to the direction of the
sound to vary, although, as a matter of fact, the experimenter had not
budged from his first position.
At a soirée, we have seen a member of the Institute, who had cheerfully
submitted himself to the experiment, extremely surprised, when his bandage
was removed, at the gross errors in auditory perception that he had just
committed. The illusion that it is thus possible to produce by varying the
positions of the hand in which a coin is jingled is, in the main, analogous to

that obtained through ventriloquism. Another example: If several persons be
standing in the same line, at a few feet from a spectator, and one of them
emits a prolonged sound—a vowel, for example, say a a a—that requires
no motion of the lips, the spectator will be unable to determine from which
of the persons the sound proceeds; or if, moreover, he tries to point the one
out, he will be almost certain to commit an error, the person designated by
him being the third or fourth to the right or left of the one who actually
produced the sound.
In the choruses of operas, an endeavor is made to have an agreeable aspect
in addition to vocal qualities; and, as a beautiful voice is not always
accompanied with a pretty face, it often happens that in the first row of a
chorus they will place pretty supernumeraries, who, although not obliged to
sing, open their mouths and make believe pronounce words, while in reality
the singing is being done only by their companions in the rear. This fraud is
very rarely detected by the audience.
If a man standing near a child should, without moving his lips, speak with a
squeaking voice, while the child was making believe pronounce words, it
might easily be believed that the words heard were being spoken by the
child. It is possible to teach a dog to open his mouth and follow the motions
of his master’s hand; and if the master be any sort of a ventriloquist, he can
easily make believe that he has an animal endowed with speech.
The ventriloquist who, standing near his dummies, succeeds in keeping his
facial muscles absolutely immovable, while his figures become animate and
move their lips and seem to speak, produces such an illusion among the
spectators by virtue of the acoustic principle that we have just noted; that is,
the difficulty that the ear experiences in determining the precise point
whence emanates the sound that it hears.
It is to be remarked that the chief difficulty in the art of ventriloquism is to
keep the countenance immovable, and to speak without causing any of the
facial muscles to act.
The ventriloquist who talks with a dummy that is interrogating him,
addresses his questions in an ordinary voice, articulates distinctly, and
plainly moves his lips; but when the dummy answers, the ventriloquist’s
face no longer contracts, and his lips scarcely part except to smile. The

facial immobility preserved by him while he is really speaking, then, can be
explained by recalling a few principles of grammar, which are merely
applications of the physiology of the voice.
Articulate speech, which separates the language of man from that of the
lower animals, is divided, as grammar teaches, into sounds and
articulations. The sounds or vowels are made up of all the continuous and
uniform noises that the vocal organs can emit. Thus a, e, i, o, and u are
vowels, because they may be infinitely prolonged; a a a a a a, for example.
There are a greater number of vowels than is usually admitted in writing; it
is possible, in fact, to modify them to infinity, so to speak, by a slightly
more open or more closed sound. They may be classified in the form of
gamuts, each having a typical vowel, the entire corresponding series of
which is but the result of a more and more pronounced contraction of the
lips, without the tongue and other vocal organs having to undergo the
slightest modification.

FIRST SERIES, VOWEL A.

á

a

à

â

ó

õ

ô

ou

oû

SECOND SERIES, VOWEL E.

è

é

ée

e

eu

eûx

THIRD SERIES, VOWEL I.

i

î

u

û

FIG. 2.—CLASSIFICATION OF THE VOWELS.

These type-vowels and their descending gamuts are shown in Fig. 2.
If, in pronouncing each of these vowels, we draw the base of the tongue
toward the back of the throat, without changing the position of the lips or
tongue, we shall obtain the nasal sound thereof. The chief of such sounds
are:
an, nasal sound of a;
on, nasal sound of o;
then,
en, in nasal sound of é;
eun, un, nasal sound of eu.
The vowels i and u have no nasal sounds, because of the back position that
the base of the tongue naturally occupies in pronouncing them, and which is
but slightly modified when we endeavor to give them a nasal sound.
What precedes may be called the theory of the vowels. From the standpoint
of ventriloquism, we must remark that, in order to pronounce the vowels, no
motion of the lips is necessary; but it will suffice to allow the latter to
remain slightly parted in order to give passage to the sound—this being
generally done by the ventriloquist through the aid of a smile, that seems to
be provoked by the interest that he takes in the talk of his dummies.

All the modifications in the organs necessary for passing from one vowel to
another, as in the diphthongs oa and aé, or when they suppress certain
intermediate articulations, are easily obtained by the ventriloquist by the aid
of the tongue and the interior organs of the mouth, without causing the lips
and facial muscles to undergo the slightest motion or the least contraction;
or, in other words, without any visible sign exhibiting itself to the eyes of
the spectators. The pronunciation of the vowels, then, constitutes no
difficulty for the ventriloquist. The same is not the case with the
articulations or consonants, the pronunciation of some of which is a
difficulty that the ventriloquist can overcome only by virtue of practice and
skill, or again by an approximate pronunciation—the articulation difficult to
pronounce without moving the facial muscles being replaced by another
which gives nearly the same sound, but which is obtained with the internal
vocal organs of the mouth.
The consonants may be classed by categories, according to the vocal organs
employed for pronouncing them. In each category they are divided into
strong and weak, and, as regards ventriloquism, they comprise two series. A
classification of them is given in Fig. 3.
Upon examining this table, it will be seen that, in the entire first series of
these consonants, the tongue, acting upon the pharynx, bearing against the
teeth, or taking different shapes, can act and articulate without the aid of the
lips, and without the necessity of the facial muscles contracting. The
ventriloquist, then, will be able to pronounce any word in which none but
these vowels and consonants enter, without moving his facial muscles.
The same is not the case with the consonants of the second series, that is to
say, with the five labials, f, v, p, b, m. The ventriloquist’s art consists in
pronouncing these without moving the lips or facial muscles. With a little
practice it is easy to reach such a result with f and v, which may be
pronounced by causing only the interior muscles of the lips to act; p and b,
and m especially, present a greater difficulty, and we may say that, in most
cases, ventriloquists who wish to keep their lips perfectly motionless
pronounce none of these three consonants distinctly, but usually substitute
for them a sound bordering on that of the letter n.

It is partly for this reason that ventriloquists succeed much better in
imitating the language of children, or that of persons of slight education.
So, upon the whole, the illusion produced by ventriloquists is the result,
primarily, of an acoustic phenomenon, the uncertainty of the sound’s
direction, and, secondarily, of a habit acquired of speaking without moving
the facial muscles.
Those ventriloquists who, without accessories, have the power of throwing
their voices almost anywhere, succeed therein by utilizing the same
principle of acoustics that we have explained above. As for the exact point
whence the sound proceeds, the ventriloquist usually takes care to show that
by an expressive motion and by looking in that direction, and by
designating it, too, with his finger, while his face expresses great fear,
interest, or surprise. So the spectator easily persuades himself that the sound
does really come from the exact spot that is thus pointed out to him in a
seemingly unintentional manner.
The words are often pronounced very indistinctly by the mysterious voice,
but the ventriloquist takes care, as a general thing, to render them
intelligible by repeating them in his ordinary voice, by accenting them, and
by commenting upon them. He thus persuades his auditors that these are the
very words that they heard.

FIRST SERIES.—CONSONANTS FORMED
BY THE INTERNAL VOCAL ORGANS.

Strong. Weak.
Gutturals c g
Palatal linguals l ill
Dental linguals r
Dentals t d
Palatal dentals n gn
Dental sibillants s z
Guttural sibillants ch j

SECOND SERIES.—LABIAL CONSONANTS.

Strong. Weak.
Sibillant labials f v
Simple labials p b

Aspirated labials m

FIG. 3.—CLASSIFICATION OF THE CONSONANTS.

In order to produce a muffled sound that seems to come from afar or from
an inclosed place, the ventriloquist arranges his tongue in such a way that
its base, upon bearing against the soft palate, shall form a sort of diaphragm
that allows but very little of the voice to pass. If, then, the ventriloquist
articulates his words with a strong guttural voice, the sound will appear to
come from the earth, from a grotto or cavern, or from a box, or cask, or
closet. If, on the contrary, the tongue being in the same position, the
ventriloquist speaks with a sharp voice, he will produce the illusion of a
voice coming from the ceiling, or from some high place, such as the top of a
tree or the roof of a neighboring house. But, in both cases, in order to effect
the emission of this muffled, somewhat indistinct, voice, the ventriloquist
keeps his lungs distended, and emits as little breath as possible in
pronouncing.
Richerand, the celebrated physiologist, who had an opportunity of
examining the ventriloquist Fitz-James, says: “His entire mechanism
consists in a slow and graduated expiration, which is, after a manner,
protracted, and which is always preceded by a strong inspiration, by means
of which he introduces into his lungs a great volume of air, which he
carefully husbands.”
As for the modifications to be introduced into the usual position of the
organs in order to obtain the voices of aged people or children, hoarse or
nasal voices, the cries of animals, sounds of musical instruments, the noises
of tools, and so forth, they are easily effected, owing to the mobility,
perfection, and resources of such organs; and it is by practice and feeling
his way that the ventriloquist comes to know them and repeat them, so as to
obtain the voice that he desires, with certainty. Moreover, in order to get a
good idea of the modifications that may be introduced in the voice by
regulating the breathing, the opening of the pharynx, and the position and
curvature of the tongue, it is only necessary to devote ourselves to this
exercise for a few minutes, when the processes used by ventriloquists, and
the illusions that it is possible for them to produce, will be easily
understood. Perhaps, indeed, such an exercise will reveal to the

experimenter that he has an aptness for ventriloquism that he was far from
suspecting.

ANIMATED PUPPETS.

FIG. 1.—BERTRAND’S ANIMATED PUPPETS.

Puppets have been in use since antiquity, and when skillfully constructed
and operated the effect is very amusing. The French painter M. G. Bertrand
devised some very ingenious puppets, which he calls “animated models,”
which he exhibited for a long time in Paris. When the characters make their
appearance and walk and approach each other, they appear to be real. One
of the most charming of the puppets was a violoncellist who bows, rubs
resin on his bow, and plays a march. After the player has finished, he bows
and repeats the piece for an encore. M. Bertrand’s danseuses are no less
wonderful. Fig. 3 shows one of them while she is executing a difficult
scene. The little puppets are about half life size, being twenty-two inches in
height. They are suspended from the upper part of the theater by very fine
wires fixed to a rubber spring. Left to itself the puppet is suspended about
three feet from the floor of the stage. It is from beneath that the operator
holds it by means of wires attached to its feet, which keep it on the floor

and make it walk, jump, or dance. Lateral wires are attached to the hands,
and are manipulated from the side scenes. Each figure is built up on a
skillfully wrought skeleton.

FIG. 2.—LA RENCONTRE (SECOND SCENE).

FIG. 3.—AUTOMATIC DANSEUSE.

The fifth figure shows that the fundamental osseous framework is made of
hard wood, and the articulations formed of steel springs. When this wooden
skeleton is made to dance upon the stage, it has the attitude of an animated
being; all of the articulations operate of themselves, with perfect
suppleness. The covering of tow and dress materials give the external
human form. Our last engraving shows the clown, who, at the rising of the
curtain, recites the prologue. He is capable of showing his own skeleton to
the spectators and of saying, “This is the way I am made. Look at my
framework!”

FIG. 4.—THE TOILET OF A DANSEUSE.

FIG. 5.—TOM MINOR THE CLOWN AND HIS SKELETON.

CHAPTER VIII.
SHADOWGRAPHY.

By Henry Ridgely Evans.
Paris is the home of the fantaisiste. These rare exotics flourish in the genial
atmosphere of the great French capital, and cater to the most critical, as well
as the most appreciative, public in the world. No matter how trivial your
profession may be, if you are an artist in your particular line, you may be
sure of an admiring audience. To-day you are a performer in the cafés; to-
morrow you tread the boards of some minor theater, and the journals duly
chronicle your début, sometimes with as much elaborateness as they would
“write up” that of a new singer at the Grand Opera. Two of the greatest
entertainers in Paris to-day are Yvette Guilbert, chanteuse eccentrique, and
M. Félicien Trewey—fantaisiste, mimic, shadowgraphist, and juggler. It is
M. Trewey and his wonderful art I wish to introduce to the American reader.
The clever Frenchman is one of the best sleight-of-hand artists in France,

but his lasting fame has been made through his ombromanie, or
shadowgraphy, the art of casting silhouettes with his hands, on an
illuminated screen. These silhouettes are projected with marvelous dexterity
of manipulation.
The idea of projecting the shadows of different objects (among others the
hands) upon a plane surface is very ancient, and it would be idle to attempt
to assign a date to the creation of these animals and classic figures, such as
the rabbit, swan, negro, etc., that have served to amuse children in the
evening since time immemorial.
Within a few years these rude figures have been improved, and the play of
shadows has now become a true art instead of a simple diversion. The
Italian painter Campi was one of the first who thought of adding new types
to the collection of figures capable of being made with the shadow of the
hands. He devised amusing forms of animals that delighted the school-
children before whom he loved to exhibit them. His imitator, Frizze,
imported the nascent art into Belgium, and it was in this latter country that
Trewey got his knowledge of it.
Trewey was not long in discovering that ombromanie was capable of
improvement, and, after patient exercise of his fingers to render them
supple, he succeeded in producing new silhouettes, which are, each in its
kind, little masterpieces.

TREWEY EXHIBITING UPON A STAGE.

Trewey has made his hands so supple that he not only can form the most
diverse figures upon a screen, but can also give them motion and life. The
swan smoothing its plumage, the bird taking flight, the cat making its toilet,
the tight-rope dancer, who, after saluting the public, rubs chalk on her feet
before walking on the rope, are true wonders, and it is hard to believe that
these perfectly accurate profiles are obtained solely by means of the shadow
of the hands. The artist has thus far devised more than three hundred
figures, and his inventive mind is leading him to get up new ones every day.
The better to initiate the reader into the art of ombromanie, let me take, for
example, the dog’s head represented in Fig. 1 (No. 1). The ears are erect,
the snout is thrust forward, and we conjecture that the animal has just
scented a choice bit; in fact, he is snapping at it (No. 2). No. 4 shows us the
efforts that he is making to swallow his prey, which is represented by the
angle of the bent forefinger that moves in the mouth. After strong efforts,
the mouth is seen to close (No. 3), showing the act of swallowing. A
progressive motion of the hand shows us the swelling of the throat caused
by the descent of the food in the œsophagus. One would imagine that he

had before him the shadow of a genuine dog, so wonderful, natural, and
accurate are the motions. After this laborious repast, we finally see the
animal yawning voluptuously, the middle finger representing the tongue,
which cleaves to the palate, and the general profile of the head expressing
the completest beatitude.

FIG. 1.—SHADOWS OF A DOG SWALLOWING A PIECE OF MEAT.

It is very evident that, in order to reach such a degree of perfection, the
artist must be naturally endowed with great manual dexterity. There are
signs by which such dexterity is recognized, and an attentive examination
of Trewey’s hand has enabled me to verify the laws laid down by M. Henri
Étienne upon the native perfection of the senses. Thirty-five years of
research have permitted M. Étienne, who has been continuously in contact,
in shops, with Swiss watchmakers’ apprentices, experienced workmen, and
artists even, to find a certain criterion by which to judge of aptitudes in
different trades and several professions.
One day M. Étienne was present in the shop of a skillful master
watchmaker, when there entered a young Frenchman, an ex-law student,
who was desirous of apprenticing himself to the watchmaking trade. The
neophyte, who was very intelligent looking, received a cordial reception.
While pressing the hand of the future workman, a cloud passed over the

placid face of the master-watchmaker. “What did you feel, then, in pressing
the hand of that young man who has just gone out?” asked M. Étienne.
“With hands like his we don’t make a watchmaker,” was the reply, and the
prediction came true. It was as a consequence of this conversation that M.
Étienne sought and discovered the following rules:
The characteristic of dexterity is shown in the first place by the curve of the
thumb arched outwardly. This is an indispensable condition for the handling
of the hammer. The blacksmith, who wields with his arm the heavy striking
mass that he lets fall perpendicularly, without deviation, repeatedly upon
the same point; the file-cutter, who strikes such regular blows upon the
chisel that no flaw is visible in the cut, so equal everywhere is the imprint
of the tool—these and all superb workmen, all artists who shape white-hot
iron with the hammer, who chisel the precious metals, who sculpture marble
and stone, owe the exact precision in the force and accuracy of the blows
that they give with the hammer to the suppleness of the first joint of the
thumb.
A second characteristic of skillfulness is indicated by the faculty of
reversing the metacarpal phalanges of the fingers, so that when the hand is
extended it is convex. On the greater or less flexibility of all the joints,
either at the base or extremity of the fingers, depend the dexterity and
skillfulness displayed in work executed with the file, plane, or lathe.
The two characteristics mentioned above—the curved thumb and the
peculiar suppleness of the fingers—are in most cases united in the same
person. The more important of these is the first.
Trewey’s hand, reproduced by molding, figures in several English
museums. It possesses the faculty of reversal of the phalanges to the highest
degree, and the thumb, which is of wonderful suppleness, renders Trewey,
as we shall see, the greatest service in the formation of his shadows. Let me
add that his fingers, which are long and slender, differ very perceptibly in
length, the middle finger, for example, exceeding the ring finger by nearly
an inch.

FIG. 2.—THE FISHERMAN.

In addition to the profiles of men and animals, the artist, by means of a few
accessories, exhibits to us living persons playing amusing pantomimes.
Here, for example (Fig. 2), we have a fisherman. A piece of cardboard,
properly shaped and held between two fingers, forms the hat; the boat is a
piece of wood held in one of the artist’s hands; a metallic ring holds the
fish-pole against the thumb of the other hand, and it is opposite this latter,
bent as shown in the figure, that we observe all the emotions of the
fortunate fisherman, who, phlegmatic at first, and livening up when the fish
bites, finally is triumphant when he has it at the end of his line. It is
necessary to have witnessed all these little scenes in order to understand
how, by means of his fingers alone, the artist can evoke the laughter and
applause of hundreds of spectators. Here, now (Fig. 3), we have a scene
with two persons. It is a fight between a janitress and one of her tenants. As
may be seen, the accessories are here very simple again.

FIG. 3.—FIGHT BETWEEN A JANITRESS AND TENANT.

To make the shadows sharp, the following things are indispensable: The
source of light must be a single lamp inclosed in a projecting apparatus,
throwing very divergent rays. The lens must consequently be of very short
focus. The electric light or oxyhydrogen lamp necessary in a theater may be
replaced at the amateur’s house by a lamp, or, better, by a wax candle, or,
indeed, even by a common candle that gives very sharp shadows. The
mirrors in the room where the exhibition is given must be veiled in order to
prevent reflections, and all brilliant objects must be removed. When the
oxyhydrogen lamp is used, the screen is placed ten feet away from the light,
and the artist’s hands at three feet from the same, and consequently at seven
from the screen. But it will be understood that there can be no absolute rule
about this, all depending upon the scale of the figures. It suffices to recall
the fact that the nearer the hand is brought to the light, the more the shadow
enlarges and loses its intensity, while on bringing the hand nearer the
screen, the shadow becomes sharper, but smaller and smaller. Fig. 4 shows

Trewey exhibiting the scene of the preacher in the pulpit. The canopy is
formed by the arm and the first phalanges of the fingers bent at right angles,
while a block of wood affixed to the arm near the wrist forms the pulpit. In
order that the preacher may appear smaller than the pulpit, he must
necessarily be nearer the screen, and this explains the distance apart of the
artist’s arms in the engraving, the screen being situated in front of the arm
that forms the preacher. The necessary distances, however, are best
determined by experiment.
Trewey’s appearance on the stage is very prepossessing. He is a man of
commanding physique, with a jovial countenance, indicative of the
comedian. He always appears in full court costume—dress coat, silk
stockings, and pumps. On his first appearance on the stage he wears a long
Spanish cloak, which he removes before beginning his entertainment of
juggling and sleight-of-hand. He is the past grand master of balancing feats,
the startling nature of which causes one to hold his breath with dismay at
such boldness and audacity. His dexterity in throwing cards is really
extraordinary. I have seen him project these little oblongs of glazed
cardboard from the stage of the Alhambra, London (the largest hall in
Europe) to the farthest part of the top gallery. He also possesses great skill
in the unique art of writing backwards any word or sentence chosen by the
audience, and he is a lightning sketch artist of no mean ability.
“Tabarin,” or twenty-five heads under one hat, is a performance named after
the inventor, a certain M. Tabarin, juggler, mountebank, and quack-salver,
who used to frequent the quays of Paris during the early part of the
eighteenth century. With the brim of an old felt sombrero, Trewey is able,
by dexterous manipulation, to construct every variety of headgear, from the
shovel hat of a snuffy-nosed French abbé to the headdress of a Norman
peasant girl, to say nothing of the famous chapeau affected by the great
Napoleon. It is not these varieties of headgear that astonish the audience,
but Trewey’s facial interpretations of the different types of character
assumed. His mobile features are an international portrait gallery, and we
see represented in the “Tabarin” Irishmen, Scotchmen, Englishmen,
Chinamen, and other nationalities. It is a facial pantomime of exceeding
skill.

The Paris Figaro has described the work of this fantaisiste as “Treweyism,”
and Illustration and La Nature never fail to send their staff artists behind the
scenes to make sketches of the ombromanist’s latest creations. Robert-
Houdin, in his memoirs, says, the excellence of an artist’s work must never
flag, but continue to excite and stimulate public curiosity. Trewey realizes
this to perfection. He has something unique and novel from week to week
to present for the delectation of his audiences. He is the most tireless
experimenter I have ever met on any stage, and gets up early and goes to
bed late to think out new problems in the art amusante. I first became
acquainted with this versatile artist in the summer of 1893, when he was
playing a phenomenally long engagement in the music halls of London, and
heard from his own lips the story of his early struggles and hardships before
attaining eminence in his chosen profession. I quote the following,
contributed by me to the pages of Mahatma, a very clever little periodical
devoted to sleight-of-hand, jugglery, and natural magic:
“Trewey was born in Angoulême nearly forty-five years ago. His father was
a machinist employed at one of the paper mills of the city, and desired the
young Trewey to become engineer in the manufactory. An unexpected
incident diverted Trewey’s mind from mechanics to jugglery. He was taken
one day to the circus at Marseilles, and saw the performance of a conjurer.
He was so delighted with the entertainment of the mountebank that he
forthwith determined to become a professional prestidigitateur. Finding that
he could not enlist the interest of his son in machinery, Trewey père sent
him to a Jesuit seminary at Marseilles to study for the priesthood. One day,
after he had completed three years at the seminary, he returned home for a
short holiday, and refused to return, whereupon his father sent him to work
daily at the factory. During his sojourn at the school, Trewey exhibited his
skill as an amateur juggler, and took part in the dramatic exhibitions given
by the students from time to time. He kept up his practice while at work at
the factory, and then one fine summer’s day, at the age of fifteen, ran away
from home with a professional acrobat not much older than himself. The
two boys gave performances in the cafés of the neighboring towns, and
eventually Trewey succeeded in getting an engagement in one of the
Marseilles music halls at the munificent salary of a franc a day. He had to
give his own juggling entertainment several times a day, and appear in a
pantomimic performance every night. In this same company was Plessis,

afterwards one of the greatest of the French comedians. Speaking of this
period of his interesting career, Trewey said to me: ‘It was the custom in
French places of amusement, when I was a young and struggling
entertainer, for the spectators to throw money on the stage to a successful
actor. I carefully saved the coin obtained in this way until I was able to
purchase two grand new costumes. These costumes and the popularity
acquired enabled me to obtain an engagement at the Alcazar, the principal
place of amusement in Marseilles.

FIG. 4.—THE PREACHER IN THE PULPIT.

“‘Other engagements offered themselves in quick succession after that, and
I became a favorite performer in all the principal towns in the south of
France, where I remained for three or four years. After a while I returned to
the strolling branch of the profession, and started anew as the proprietor of
a traveling pantomime and vaudeville company.
“‘I traveled from one little town to another, playing various rôles including
Pierrot and Cassandre, the clown and pantaloon of French pantomime;
danced in the Clodoche, a grotesque quadrille; and took part in a comedy, in
addition to giving my own entertainment. It was a bare living only that was

gained in this manner for two years, after which an offer of an engagement
came to me from Bordeaux. Here I was most successful, and made a hit
with a number of new feats of balancing with bottles, etc., with which I had
been busy for a long time perfecting myself. It was at this period I invented
the ombromanie. An offer quickly came for an engagement at the Concert
des Ambassadeurs, in Paris, and my success was complete. I stayed in Paris
nine years, and since then traveled all over Europe—in Spain, Germany,
Belgium, Austria, Russia, Great Britain, and, as you know, introduced
shadowgraphy to the American public in 1893.’
“Trewey’s home in the Rue Rochechouart, Paris, is an interesting place to
visit; it is crowded with apparatus and all sorts of new inventions intended
for use in his conjuring entertainments. His scrap and memorandum books
are unique in themselves and contain hundreds of sketches in water colors
of juggling feats either performed by himself or by other artists. Under each
drawing is a carefully written description of the particular act.
“‘What are you going to do with all this material?’ I once asked him. ‘I may
publish a book one of these days,’ he replied, with a merry twinkle of the
eye; ‘who knows? I’ve done worse things.’”

FRENCH SHADOWS.

M. Caran d’Ache, the cartoonist and illustrator, got up a few years ago, at
the Theater d’Application, at Paris, a special representation of Chinese
shadows which were devised by him, and are so superior to anything that
has previously been done in this line that he has been able to call them
“French shadows,” in order to distinguish them from similar productions.
M. d’Ache takes pleasure in representing the military scenes of the first
republic and first empire. He projects upon the screen an entire army,
wherein we see the emperor with his staff at different distances amid the
ranks. The defiling of the troops is astonishing, and one would think that he
was present at a genuine review. A “Vision in the Steppes” is another series
of pictures that represent the advent of the Russian army. The shadows
entitled the “Return from the Woods” form a masterpiece as a whole, and
the figures are so skillfully cut that the celebrities of the day who are

passing in the Avenue des Acacias can be recognized. Two amusing
specimens of this part of the representation are given in Figs. 2 and 3. These
reproductions are much reduced, the real height of the figures being about
eighteen inches.
Says a writer in La Nature, “We were not content to remain in the body of
the theater to witness the shadows, but requested M. d’Ache to admit us to
his side scenes for the sake of our readers, and to initiate us into the
processes of actuating his figures; for, aside from the artistic aspect, there is
here a very interesting application of physics.
“The silhouettes, after being composed and drawn, are cut out of sheet zinc,
which gives them great rigidity. The cutting is a very delicate operation and
requires great accuracy. Some figures, such as those of cavalrymen, hussars,
and dragoons of the grand army, have apertures in certain parts, and behind
these is pasted colored transparent paper. In this way, the black shadows
that move along the screen have certain parts in color, such as the plumes of
the helmets and the horses’ saddles.

FIG. 1.—FRENCH SHADOWS.

“A large number of the zinc silhouettes act through mechanism. At a grand
review, to the order ‘Carry arms,’ all the guns are seen to rise in unison. The
silhouette is provided with a series of guns properly arranged and mounted
upon a rod which is lowered or raised by the action of a lever.
“Fig. 1 represents the back of M. d’Ache’s theater. The screen being
brilliantly illuminated by an oxyhydrogen lamp, and the light in the body of
the theater being turned down, the silhouettes, in passing, project upon the
screen a very strong shadow which the spectators perceive, but which is not
visible from the side scenes. Each silhouette is taken from a large box by a
man who places it in a groove at the bottom of the screen. Four or five
operators suffice to keep the shadows succeeding one another without
interruption. During the Epopée we witness great combats, the capture of
redoubts, and terrible cannonading. Nothing is more amusing than the
method of producing the effects of these epic contests. The cannons are
provided with little fuses that an operator fires, and, at the same moment,
the big drum of the orchestra imitates the noise of the cannonading, and a
rattle of large size simulates the sound of the discharge of musketry. As for
the smoke that the spectators perceive upon the screen, that is produced by
the cigarette of one of the operators, who projects it at the desired place.
The light of the shells is obtained by means of a wad of gun cotton lighted
and properly projected.”

FIGS. 2 AND 3.—FACSIMILES OF TWO SILHOUETTES.

CHAPTER IX.
MENTAL MAGIC.

By Henry Ridgely Evans.
The most sphinx-like problem ever presented to the public for solution was
the “second-sight” mystery. As has been stated in the Introduction, the idea
was an old one, having originated with the Chevalier Pinetti, a conjurer of
the eighteenth century. On this subject the “Encyclopædia Britannica” says:
“In 1783 Pinetti had an automatic figure about eighteen inches in height,
named the Grand Sultan or Wise Little Turk, which answered questions as
to chosen cards and many other things by striking upon a bell, intelligence
being communicated to a confederate by an ingenious ordering of the
words, syllables, or vowels in the questions put. The teaching of Mesmer

and feats of alleged clairvoyance suggested to Pinetti a more remarkable
performance in 1785, when Signora Pinetti, sitting blindfold in a front box
of a theater, replied to questions and displayed her knowledge of articles in
the possession of the audience.”
Robert-Houdin invented a “second-sight” system under the following
circumstances:
“My two children,” he says, in his memoirs, “were playing one day in the
drawing-room at a game they had invented for their own amusement. The
younger had bandaged his elder brother’s eyes, and made him guess the
objects he touched, and when the latter happened to guess right, they
changed places. This simple game suggested to me the most complicated
idea that ever crossed my mind—‘second sight.’
“On the 12th of February, 1846, I printed in the center of my bill the
following singular announcement:
“In this programme M. Robert-Houdin’s son, who is gifted with a marvelous
second sight, after his eyes have been covered with a thick bandage, will
designate every object presented to him by the audience.”
Houdin never revealed the secret of this remarkable trick, but plainly
indicated in his autobiography that it was the result of an ingenious
combination of questions that gave the clue to the supposed clairvoyant on
the stage. One of the first to come forward with an exposé was F. A.
Gandon, who wrote a work entitled La Seconde vue dévoilée, Paris, 1849.
Robert Heller saw Houdin give an exhibition of “second sight” in London.
It was the idea of people at the time that the experiment was the result of
animal magnetism, but the acute Heller thought otherwise, and he went to
work to perfect a system that far exceeded any of his predecessors in the art,
adding certain subtle improvements that made the trick all but supernatural.
Briefly stated, the effect is as follows: A lady is introduced to the audience
as possessed of clairvoyant powers. She is blindfolded and seated on the
stage. The magician, going down among the spectators, receives from them
various articles which the supposed seeress accurately describes; for
example, in the case of a coin, not only telling what the object is, but the
country where it was coined, its denomination and date. In the case of a

watch, she gives the metal, maker’s name, what kind and how many jewels
in the works, and, lastly, the time to a dot. And the same with other objects,
no matter what they may be. Nothing offered by a spectator seemed to
baffle Houdin and Heller. Half-obliterated Roman, Grecian, and Oriental
coins were described with wonderful ease and accuracy by the assistant on
the stage; also secret society emblems and inscriptions thereon, numbers on
bank-notes, surgical instruments, etc.

ROBERT HELLER.

At a performance in Boston, described by Henry Hermon in his work,
“Hellerism,” a coin was handed to Heller. He glanced at it for a moment
and asked his assistant to name the object.
“A coin,” she quickly replied.
“Here, see if you can tell the name of the country, and all about it,” he next
inquired.

Without a second’s hesitation she answered, “It is a large copper coin—a
coin of Africa, I think. Yes, it is of Tripoli. The inscriptions on it are in
Arabic; one side reads, ‘Coined at Tripoli;’ the other side, ‘Sultan of two
lands, Sultan of two seas, Sultan by inheritance, and the Son of a Sultan.’”
“Very well,” said Heller, “that is correct. But look, what is the date, now?”
“The date is 1-2-2-0, one thousand two hundred and twenty of the Hegira,
or Mohammedan year, which corresponds to 1805 of the Christian era.”
Salvos of applause greeted the performers at the conclusion of the scene.
Mr. Fred Hunt, Jr., who was Robert Heller’s assistant for many years, wrote
the following exposé of the trick for the London Times, soon after Heller’s
death:
“In the years we were together, Heller was constantly enlarging and
perfecting his system. He is now gone and has solved a greater mystery
than that which puzzled so many thousands while he was on earth, and I
believe that his sister, Haidee Heller, and myself are the only living persons
in whom Robert Heller’s second sight is vested. Heller had so simplified
this system as to embrace every variety of article classified in sets; one
question, with a word or two added, sufficing to elicit a correct answer for
ten different articles.
“The student must be first posted in a new alphabetical arrangement, with
which he must familiarize himself as thoroughly as a boy in learning his
primer. This is the most difficult part of the business, but when mastered
thoroughly, it comes as easy as if the question were plainly propounded.
“This alphabet is as follows:
A is H
B is T
C is S
D is G
E is F
F is E
G is A

H is I
I is B
J is L
K is Pray
L is C
M is O
N is D
O is V
P is J
Q is W
R is M
S is N
T is P
U is Look
V is Y
W is R
X is See this
Y is Q
Z is Hurry.
Hurry up—
repeat last letter.

“For example, you want the initials or name in a ring. Say it is ‘Anna.’ By
the alphabetical arrangement H stands for A, D for N. The explanation
‘Hurry up’ always means a repetition of the last letter, and again H will give
the answer when put as follows:
“‘Here is a name? Do you see it? Hurry up. Have you got it?’
“Attention is paid only to the first letter of every sentence, and it will be
perceived that the name of Anna is spelled.
“Again, take ‘Gazette,’ which is abbreviated in a phonographic manner in
order to simplify the question. G is A, A is H, Z is ‘Hurry’ (not ‘Hurry up’),
E is F, T is P. The question would be:

“‘Are you able to tell the name? Here it is. Hurry. Find the name. Please be
quick.’
“Here you have ‘Gazet’ in short meter. The letters K, U, X, and Z being
difficult wherewith to commence an interrogative sentence, the words
‘pray,’ ‘look,’ ‘see this,’ and ‘hurry,’ are used, as will be seen in the table.
Care must be taken not to begin a sentence with either of these words unless
applicable to the word to be spelled. For instance, if ‘Xenia’ is required, X
is ‘See this,’ E is F, N is D, I is B, and A is H. Thus the question:
“‘See this? Find it quick. Do hurry. Be quick. How is it spelled?’
“Again, for the initials U. S. you will say:
“‘Look. Now, then.’
“U is ‘Look,’ and S is N.
“If you want Kentucky named, thus the question:
“‘Pray name the State. Quick.’
“Pray is K, and Q is Y.
“After the alphabet we have the numbers, which, it will be seen, are easily
understood after a little practice.
Numbers.
1 is Say or Speak.
2 is Be, Look, or Let.
3 is Can or Can’t.
4 is Do or Don’t.
5 is Will or Won’t.
6 is What.
7 is Please or Pray.
8 is Are or Ain’t.
9 is Now.
10 is Tell.
0 is Hurry or Come.

“‘Well’ is to repeat the last figure.
“Example: The number 1,234 is required; attention must only be paid to the
first word of a sentence, thus:
“‘Say the number. Look at it. Can you see it? Do you know?’
“Or say the number is 100:
“‘Tell me the number. Hurry!’
“A rather difficult number would be 1,111. The question would be put in
this wise:
“‘Say the number. Well? Speak out. Say what it is.’
“On a watch or greenback there are sometimes eight or nine numbers,
which can be followed as easily as the above.
“The table of colors is as follows:
Colors.
1 is White.
2 is Black.
3 is Blue.
4 is Brown.
5 is Red.
6 is Green.
7 is Yellow.
8 is Gray.

“The solution of the numbers, as I have explained, will furnish the key. For
example, the article presented is green; the question will be:
“‘What is the color?’ green being the sixth color in the list.
“Blue is wanted, and, as it stands third in the list, the word would be:
“‘Can you tell the color?’

“White is wanted, and, as it stands first in the list, the question is:
“‘Say the color.’
“Understand that the words explaining the numbers, as given in the list, are
applied to the articles enumerated in each of the subjoined tables.
The Metals.
1. Gold.
2. Silver.
3. Brass.
4. Copper.
5. Lead.
6. Iron.
7. Tin.
8. Platina.
9. Steel.

The Setting.
1. Diamond.
2. Ruby.
3. Pearl.
4. Amethyst.
5. Onyx.
6. Garnet.
7. Emerald.
8. Turquoise.
9. Carbuncle.
10. Topaz.
The stone—opal.

“Take the metals, for instance. The metal presented is copper, which is
fourth in the list. The question would be:
“‘Do you know the metal?’

“If steel, which is ninth in the list:
“‘Now, what is the metal?’
“Sex, countries, materials, fabrics, watches, are as follows:
Of What.
[This set to describe the sex, etc., of the pictures.]
1. Lady.
2. Gentleman.
3. Boy.
4. Girl.
5. Child.
6. Group.
7. Animal.
8. Drawing.
9. Sketch.

Countries.
1. America.
2. England.
3. France.
4. Germany.
5. Russia.
6. Italy.
7. Spain.
8. Canada.
9. Foreign.
10. Mexico.

The Material.
1. Wood.
2. Stone.
3. Marble.

4. Bronze.
5. Lava.
6. Rubber.
7. Glass.
8. Bone.
9. Ivory.
10. China.

The Fabric.
1. Silk.
2. Wool.
3. Cotton.
4. Linen.
5. Leather.
6. Kid.
7. Buckskin.
8. Lace.

Watches.
The maker’s name?
Of what company’s make?
[This is to tell the maker’s name of watches.]
1. American Watch Co.
2. Waltham Watch Co.
3. Elgin Watch Co.
4. Dueber Watch Co.
5. Tobias.
6. Johnson.
7. Swiss.
8.
9.
10.

“Miscellaneous articles are divided into nineteen sets, thus:
First Set.
What article is this?
1. Handkerchief.
2. Neckerchief.
3. Bag.
4. Glove.
5. Purse.
6. Basket.
7. Beet.
8. Comforter.
9. Headdress.
10. Fan.

Second Set.
What is this?
1. Watch.
2. Bracelet.
3. Guard.
4. Chain.
5. Breastpin.
6. Necklace.
7. Ring.
8. Rosary.
9. Cross.
10. Charm.

Third Set.
What may this be?
1. Hat.
2. Cap.
3. Bonnet.
4. Cuff.

5. Collar.
6. Muff.
7. Cape.
8. Boa.
9. Inkstand.
10. Mucilage.

Fourth Set.
What is here?
1. Pipe.
2. Cigar.
3. Cigar-holder.
4. Cigarette.
5. Tobacco.
6. Tobacco box.
7. Tobacco pouch.
8. Match.
9. Matchbox.
10. Cigar-lighter.

Fifth Set.
What have I here?
1. Spectacles.
2. Spectacle case.
3. Eyeglass.
4. Eyeglass case.
5. Opera glass.
6. Opera-glass case.
7. Magnifying glass.
8. Telescope.
9. Compass.
10. Corkscrew.

Sixth Set.
Can you see this?
1. Knife.
2. Scissors.
3. Pin.
4. Needle.
5. Cushion.
6. Toothpick.
7. Comb.
8. Brush.
9. Thimble.
10. Looking-glass.

Seventh Set.
Do you know what this is?
1. Book.
2. Pocketbook.
3. Needlebook.
4. Paper.
5. Newspaper.
6. Pamphlet.
7. Programme.
8. Bill.
9. Letter.
10. Envelope.

Eighth Set.
Look at this.
1. Bank bill.
2. Treasury note.
3. Currency.
4. Coin.
5. Gold piece.

6. Piece of money.
7. Bank check.
8. Bond.
9. Silver dollar.
10. Postage stamp.

Ninth Set.
Now, what is this?
1. Stick.
2. Whip.
3. Parasol.
4. Umbrella.
5. Umbrella cover.
6. Picture.
7. Shoe.
8. Boot.
9. Button.
10. Stud.

Tenth Set.
Tell me this.
1. Earring.
2. Locket.
3. Sleeve button.
4. Hairpin.
5. Clothespin.
6. Fork.
7. Spoon.
8. Armlet.
9. Ornament.
10. Check.

Eleventh Set.
I want to know this.

1. Apple.
2. Nut.
3. Cake.
4. Orange.
5. Lemon.
6. Candy.
7. Popcorn.
8. Lozenge.
9. Grain.
10. Wax.

Twelfth Set.
Pray, what is this?
1. Screw.
2. Hinge.
3. Tool.
4. Nail.
5. Tack.
6. Knob.
7. Rule.
8. Lock.
9. Buckle.
10. Key.

Thirteenth Set.
You know what this is?
1. Shot.
2. Powder.
3. Bullet.
4. Gun.
5. Pistol.
6. Percussion cap.
7. Cartridge.
8. Surgical instrument.

9. Musical instrument.
10. Tuning fork.

Fourteenth Set.
Quick! This article.
1. Bouquet.
2. Bouquet holder.
3. Flower.
4. Wreath.
5. Leaf.
6. Toy.
7. Flag.
8. Bottle.
9. Game.
10. Doll.

Fifteenth Set.
Name this article.
1. Pen.
2. Penholder.
3. Pencil.
4. Eraser.
5. Rubber.
6. Case.
7. Spool.
8. Soap.
9. Perfumery.
10. Cup.

Sixteenth Set.
Say, what is this?
1. Card.
2. Cardcase.

3. Playing card.
4. Button-hook.
5. Key ring.
6. Bunch keys.
7. Tablet.
8. Cord.
9. Tweezers.
10. Cork.

Seventeenth Set.
This article?
1. Bible.
2. Testament.
3. Tract.
4. Bookmark.
5. Prayer book.
6. Hymn-book.
7. Music.
8. Smelling bottle.
9. Vinaigrette.
10. Strap.

Eighteenth Set.
Playing cards.
1. Diamonds.
2. Hearts.
3. Clubs.
4. Spades.
“Right”—Ace.
“That’s right”—King.
“Good”—Queen.
“Very good”—Jack.

Nineteenth Set.
Devices.
1. Masonic.
2. Odd Fellows.
3. Knights of Pythias.
4. Druids.
5. Musical.

Articles in Sets.

“It will be seen that the different articles are arranged in sets, numbering no
more than ten. Each set has at the head a different question, worded very
nearly alike, so as to make the audience believe that the same question is
being constantly asked. The question at the head of the set, which is always
asked first, is the clue to the set which contains the article to be described.
Each set is numbered, as in the cases of the colors and metals, and the word
conveys each particular article.
“For the first set the question is:
“‘What article is this?’
“This gives the clue to ten distinct articles. The next demand may be:
“‘Can you tell?’
“Which would be solution for ‘bag,’ it being the third in the list.
“‘Say the fabric.’
“The reply would be, ‘Silk,’ that being the first in the line of fabrics, and, as
I have before stated, ‘say’ representing No. 1. If a leather bag, it would be:
‘Will you tell the fabric?’ ‘will’ standing for No. 5.
“A handkerchief is presented, and the question is:
“‘What article is this? Say;’ which explains that it is a handkerchief, as that
is the first article in the list.

“‘Can you tell the fabric?’
“‘Cotton,’ cotton standing third in the list of fabrics.
“Then, again, if you want the color—say it is blue—
“‘Can’t you tell the color?’
“‘Blue,’ which stands third on the list of colors.
“A watch embodies a greater number of questions than almost any other
article. If you want to describe it fully, it is first in the second set, the key of
which is:
“‘What is this?’
“We will say that it is a lady’s watch, gold, double case, three hands, made
by Tobias, No. 9,725, the initials ‘From B. C. to C. H.’ engraved on the
case, the year ‘1860,’ and blue enameled, set with five diamonds. This is a
complex question, and must be put and answered as follows:
“Question. ‘What is this? Say.’
“Answer. ‘A watch.’
“Q. ‘Say the metal.’
“A. ‘Gold.’
“Q. ‘Say to whom it belongs.’
“A. ‘A lady.’
“Q. ‘Yes.’
“A. ‘A double case.’
“Q. ‘Can you tell the number of hands?’
“A. ‘Three.’
“Q. ‘Will you tell the maker.’
“A. ‘Tobias.’

“Q. ‘Now the number. Please tell me. Be quick. Won’t you?’
“A. ‘9,725.’
“Q. ‘Can you tell me the color of this enamel?’
“A. ‘Blue.’
“Q. ‘Tell the initials. Say.’
“A. ‘B. C.’
“Q. ‘Say to whom. I want to know.’
“A. ‘C. H.’
“Q. ‘Say these stones.’
“A. ‘Diamonds.’
“Q. ‘Will you tell how many?’
“A. ‘Five.’
“If it is a double case, the simple word ‘yes’ conveys the intelligence after
‘to whom it belongs.’ If an open case, the word ‘well’ is used.

Playing Cards.

“These will be found in the sixteenth set, and the order of suits in the
eighteenth. We will take the nine of spades as having been presented. The
question will be:
“‘Say, what is this? Can you tell?’
“‘A playing card.’
“‘Do you know the suit? Now, then.’
“‘Do’ is four, which means spades, and ‘now’ is nine. The cards are told as
follows: First, the ‘playing card;’ second, the suit; third, the number or
picture. If, after the preliminary question is put and answered, it is an ace,

the interlocutor says ‘Right;’ if a king, ‘That’s right;’ if a queen, ‘Good;’ if a
jack, ‘Very good.’

Money.

“This will be found classed in the eighth set, the key to which is, ‘Look at
this.’
“No. 6 of the set is described as ‘a piece of money,’ and is always of a less
value than a dollar. We will take a silver quarter of the date of 1820. The
question is:
“‘Look at this. What is it?’
“A. ‘A piece of money.’
“Q. ‘Let me know the amount. Will you?’
“A. ‘Twenty-five cents;’ as we know that ‘let’ is 2 and ‘will’ 5.
“If the coin is of this century, only the last two figures are asked; if of a
prior date, the last three. The request therefore is:
“‘Look at the date. Hurry!’ which would bring the answer, ‘1820.’
“A foreign coin is furnished, say of Rome. The request would be:
“‘Look at this. Do you know what it is?’
“The answer is, ‘A coin.’
“‘What country?’
“‘Italy;’ as Italy stands sixth in the list of countries, as will be seen by
referring to the table.
“A Mexican dollar will elicit the remark:
“‘Look at this, now.’
“‘A silver dollar.’

“‘Tell me the country.’
“The reply will be, ‘Mexico,’ as that country stands tenth on the list.
“A treasury note is presented of the value of fifty dollars; the cue is:
“‘Look at this. Be quick.’
“Answer. ‘A treasury note.’
“‘Will you tell me the amount? Come;’ which means 5 and 0, or $50;
‘come’ being a substitute for ‘hurry.’
“Again, a $2.50 gold piece is presented, and the question is as before:
“‘Look at this. Will you?’
“Answer. ‘A gold piece.’
“‘Let me know the amount. Won’t you? Come.’ ‘Let,’ ‘won’t,’ and ‘come’
standing for ‘250.’

Other Examples.

“‘Pray, what is this? Tell me.’
“The answer is. ‘A key,’ ‘key’ being the tenth article of the set. Now, in
order to tell what kind of a key, these simple words will explain:
“‘Yes,’ a watch key; ‘well,’ a door key; ‘good,’ a safe key.
“‘What is here? Say.’
“The answer is ‘pipe.’
“Now, to ascertain what kind of a pipe, the same words as above:
“‘Yes,’ a meerschaum pipe; ‘well,’ a wooden pipe; ‘good,’ a clay pipe.
“‘Can you see this? Please say.’
“Answer is ‘comb.’

“‘Yes,’ a pocket comb; ‘well,’ a toilet comb; ‘good,’ a curry comb.
“‘Can you see this? Are you going to tell?’
“The answer is ‘brush.’
“‘Yes,’ hair brush; ‘well,’ clothes brush; ‘good,’ paint brush.
“If an article is presented which is not down in the sets, the alphabet will
have to be resorted to and the article spelled out.
“This concludes the ‘second-sight’ mystery which so perplexed the world,
and which I never would have exposed but for the death of my lamented
friend, Robert Heller.”
The perfect memorization of the preceding system will enable two
ambitious amateurs or professionals to perform the “second-sight” mystery,
but it will not enable them to produce all of the effects exhibited by Heller.
Robert Heller had another system of conveying information to his
blindfolded assistant on the stage—a system that permitted him to give a
minute description of an object without speaking a word. It was this artistic
effect that so puzzled every one. It was accomplished by means of
electricity. A confederate sat among the spectators, near the center aisle of
the theater, and the wires of an electric battery were connected with his
chair, the electric push button being under the front part of the seat. Heller
gave the cue to the set in which the article was, its number, etc., by some
natural movement of his body or arms; and the confederate, rapidly
interpreting the secret signals, telegraphed them to the clairvoyante on the
stage. Mr. Hermon thus describes the receiving instrument in his clever
little book, “Hellerism”:
“It will be remembered by all whoever witnessed Mr. and Miss Heller’s
‘second-sight’ act that when he came on the stage to begin this part of his
performance, he rolled forward to the center of the stage a sofa. This sofa
had no back to it, thus enabling Miss Heller to sit with her back to the
audience. As the sofa was rolled forward it was so placed that one of the
hind legs rested on a little brass plate screwed to the floor of the stage. On
the foot of the leg there were two more, thus connecting and making a
complete electric communication between his secret partner and Miss
Heller.

“In the sofa there was a little machine so arranged that when the button was
pressed a slight tap was the result. This tap could only be heard by Miss
Heller, for it struck against a thin piece of board covered by the haircloth of
the sofa, and sitting, as she was, directly on it, it could be easily felt.”
The verbal system and the silent system were used interchangeably during
Heller’s performances, to the complete bewilderment of the spectators.
Even magicians were mystified. When the former system was employed,
Heller was enabled to go to any part of the theater; but in the latter, he was
compelled, for obvious reasons, to confine himself to the center aisle, just
below where the confederate was seated. The connecting wires were
concealed beneath the carpeting.
Other magicians, notably Kellar, have worked up the “second-sight” trick in
an ingenious way, by the use of apparatus. The clairvoyante sits on a chair
placed upon a raised platform, and, after her eyes have been carefully
bandaged, she tells the names of playing cards, the numbers on bank notes,
and adds columns of figures written on a blackboard by people in the
audience. The explanation is as follows: A rubber tube runs from behind the
scenes, underneath the stage, and up through a hollow foot of the platform
and the leg of the chair, terminating at the back of the chair. In the back of
the lady’s dress is a small tube which reaches her ear, being cleverly
concealed by the curly wig which she wears. When she has taken her seat,
the magician pretends to mesmerize her, and, under cover of the passes,
connects the tubing in the chair with the tubing in her dress. An assistant
behind the scenes reads the numbers on the bank notes with a strong
spyglass, and conveys the information to the lady through the speaking-
tube. To facilitate the assistant’s work, the magician holds the bank note
against the blackboard, which is turned slightly to one side. The
clairvoyante calls out the numbers in a loud voice, whereupon the magician
proceeds to chalk them upon the board. The squaring and the cubing of
numbers are performed by the assistant behind the scenes, with the aid of
logarithmic tables. When the “second-sight” séance is concluded, the
magician removes the bandage from the lady’s eyes, and pretends to
awaken her from the hypnotic state, taking advantage of the little comedy to
disconnect the speaking tube. She rises, bows herself off the stage, taking
particular care not to show her back to the audience.

A very clever exhibition of “second sight” is given by Professor and Mrs.
Baldwin. Professor Baldwin calls himself the “White Mahatma,” and his
entertainment is a curious hodge-podge of pretended mediumship,
clairvoyance, and vaudeville. Slips of paper and pencils, and small pads of
millboard to serve as writing desks, are distributed among the audience by
assistants; the recipients of the writing materials are requested to write
questions on the slips, fold them up, and secrete them in their pockets. The
“White Mahatma” disclaims any preparation about the millboards,
remarking that they are given to the spectators to obviate the inconvenience
of writing on the knee, and may be discarded if desired. When the questions
have been prepared, the assistants collect the pads and place them on the
stage, near the footlights, in full view of the audience. After this there is
some dancing and singing by the vaudeville artists connected with the
company, and then Mrs. Baldwin, the clairvoyante, makes her appearance;
she is carefully blindfolded and “mesmerized” by the Professor. Her
communications to the audience are made after the following manner: “I
see a lady in the orchestra, to the right. She wants to know something about
a ring that was lost.” Professor Baldwin, who stands in the center aisle of
the theater, near the stage, exclaims: “Will the lady who wrote that question
kindly hold up the slip of paper and acknowledge the correctness of Mrs.
Baldwin’s statement?” The lady complies, and a thrill of astonishment
pervades the audience. An assistant goes to the lady, takes the slip, and
hands it to Professor Baldwin, who reads it, exclaiming: “Mrs. Baldwin is
correct; but let us see if she cannot give us more detailed information
concerning the ring which is lost.” He mounts the stage, and, standing
behind the clairvoyante, makes violent mesmeric passes over her head, the
piano in the orchestra accompanying the operation with several loud chords
and cadenzas. Then the “White Mahatma” advances to the footlights and
commands his wife to speak. “The ring is of gold with a pearl setting,” she
says, “and has the initials ‘M. B.’ engraved within. It was lost about January
1, 18—,” etc. The lady in the audience had only written: “I have lost my
ring; can you describe it?” Consequently, when she hears this accurate
description by Mrs. Baldwin, she is very much impressed.
The trick is an ingenious one. It is worked up with great dramatic effect by
the Baldwins. The secret lies in the pads of millboard, some of which
contain carbon sheets under two layers of brown paper. The writing of the

spectators is thereby transferred by means of the carbon paper to sheets of
writing paper placed under the carbon sheets. The genuine millboard pads
which are distributed among the audience are laid on the stage, while the
prepared pads are carried off behind the scenes to Mrs. Baldwin, who has
ample time to post herself with the desired information before coming on
the stage.
Of course, the spectators who get the genuine pads do not receive any
clairvoyant communications, nor do those who discard the genuine pads.
The surprising part of the feat is the extraneous information imparted by
Mrs. Baldwin, which seems to preclude any possibility of trickery. This
information is obtained from the spectators by the assistants when they go
to collect the slips of paper, and is whispered by them to Professor Baldwin.
Under cover of the pretended magnetizing, Professor Baldwin gives his
wife this information, the chords from the piano preventing any one from
hearing what he says. It is all done very rapidly, the spectators being
completely deluded. The people who have been pumped by the assistants
seem to forget the fact in their interest in the main part of the trick, viz., the
reading of the slips by Mrs. Baldwin. One reason of this self-deception is,
perhaps, the fact that they do not suspect the integrity of the innocent-
looking ushers, or regard them as a part of the experiment.
Where numbers are to be conveyed, the Baldwins use a verbal code of
signals. This obviates the necessity of Mr. Baldwin going upon the stage to
remagnetize his wife.

Silent Thought Transference, No. 1.

In this ingenious trick the clairvoyante, while blindfolded, tells “the suit and
value of any number of selected cards, solves arithmetical problems, gives
numbers on borrowed bank notes, indicates time by any watch, describes
borrowed coins, and many other tests.” All this is accomplished in silence,
the medium being surrounded by a committee from the audience, if desired.
The trick can be given in a private parlor, and requires no electrical
apparatus, speaking tubes, etc. I am indebted for an explanation of “silent
thought transference” to Mr. H. J. Burlingame. In his little brochure,
“Tricks in Magic, Illusions, and Mental Phenomena,” he writes as follows:

“By means of the silent code all the usual effects generally exhibited at
thought-reading séances can be reproduced. It consists in both medium and
performer counting mentally and together. It is a known fact that the beats
for ‘common time’ are always the same in music; therefore, with little
practice, it is easy for two persons, starting on a given signal, to count at the
same time and rate, and when another signal is given, to stop. Of course
both will have arrived at the same number. This then is the actual method
employed in this code, and from it you will see that any number from 0 to 9
can be transmitted by the performer to the medium. It is best to experiment
and find out what rate of counting best suits the two persons employing this
code, but the following suggestions are offered: It may, perhaps, be best to
begin counting at a slow rate, gradually increasing until you find it
advisable to go no faster. Say you have in the room, when first practicing, a
loud-ticking clock, with a fairly slow beat. On the given beat or signal you
both start counting at the same rate as the clock. Of course the clock must
be removed when the rate has been well learned. If preferred, count at the
rate of ‘common time,’ viz.: 1 and 2 and 3 and 4, and so on, or practice with
a ‘metronome,’ such as is used during piano practice for the purpose of
setting time. A very good rate to finally adopt is about 70 to 75 per minute.
Whatever rate is found to suit best must be adhered to. You will find at the
rate mentioned that any number up to 9 can be transmitted with absolute
certainty, after an hour or so of practice.
“Now that the principle has been explained, the next items are the signals to
give the medium the cue when to start and when to stop counting mentally.
“Say the performer has borrowed a coin, the date of which is 1862. The first
figure of the coin 1 and 8 are generally understood, as most coins in use are
18 something or other; if of date 18, in the hundreds. The performer must
advise the medium of this by his manner of thanking the person who lent
the coin, which can easily be arranged to suit one’s fancy. The 6 and 2 have
therefore to be transmitted. The performer stands away from the medium or
among the audience. The medium being on the stage, securely blindfolded,
the performer takes his position, with chalk in right hand, in front of a
blackboard, holding coin in his left hand. He does not speak a word, but
simply looks at the coin. After a pause the medium calls out: ‘The first
figure I picture is a one,’ or words to that effect. Immediately the lady stops
speaking, they both begin to count mentally at the rate agreed upon by

practice. In this case the number to be transmitted is 6. As the last word of
the sentence is spoken they commence mentally 1-2-3-4-5-6; during this
short period the performer glances down at the coin as if to verify what the
lady has called out. As soon as they reach the figure 6 the signal ‘stop’ has
to be transmitted. This is done by the performer putting down on the
blackboard sharply the figure called out by the lady, viz.: ‘One’ (1). It will
be seen by this method that the signal is quite easy to transmit, and it is
perfectly natural to put down the figure on the board quickly and sharply.
The third figure of the coin is now known to the medium. The last figure, 2,
is transmitted in the same manner as the previous figure. The lady says,
‘The second figure I see is 8.’ As soon as she ceases speaking, they begin
the counting again, 1-2; on the arrival at the figure 2 the performer puts
down the 8, previously called out, sharply on the board, which is the signal
for ‘stop.’ The lady now knows the full date of the coin. The metal of the
coin must be indicated to the medium previously by the wording of the
reply to the owner of the coin after it has been handed to the performer. This
can easily be arranged. The value of the coin or its equivalent number is
indicated in the same way as the previous figure; and between the 6 and the
2, that is, after the lady has called out the 6, they commence to count for the
value. When an 0 occurs in the date, no pause is made. The performer puts
down the figure on the board for the ‘stop’ signal immediately the lady
stops speaking. This if followed carefully will be found quite easy and
natural in practice.
“Any other system that one may adopt for giving the starting and stopping
signals can, of course, be applied, but the method here proposed will be
found to answer the purpose, and cannot be detected.”
The bank-note, card, and other tests are arranged on similar lines.

Silent Thought Transference, No. 2.

This clever trick was introduced to the theater-goers of marvel-loving Paris
by Professor Verbeck and Mademoiselle Mathilde. Guibal and Marie
Gréville performed it in England and America, creating a great sensation. It
is based on a very simple principle. Abbreviated somewhat from
Burlingame’s brochure, the effect is as follows: “The pretended mesmerist

announces to the spectators the marvelous intuitive powers of his subject,
Miss Venus, remarking: ‘Miss Venus shall be hypnotized by me, and, when
launched into the hypnotic sleep, can and will perform any rational act that
the spectators desire, despite the fact that I will not speak one word during
the séance. While in the trance state, she will walk among you and comply
with your requests. This, ladies and gentlemen, is the trance-it of Venus.
When I have her under control and in the hypnotic trance, I will move about
among you, and you can convey to me by whisper what you would desire
the medium to do.’
“Miss Venus is now introduced by the professor. She bows and seats herself
on a chair, facing the spectators. The professor, by means of any of the
pantomimic gestures, pretends to hypnotize her, after which dramatic scene,
he goes among the audience, asking here and there what the spectators
would like the lady marvel to do. Having spoken to some twelve or twenty
persons, he solemnly enjoins the strictest silence. With serious mien he
advances toward the medium, without going on the stage, and motions or
waves his right hand in a downward movement in front of her. She slowly
rises and goes through each desired performance, finally returning to her
chair and allowing herself to be dehypnotized. The professor recapitulates
for the benefit of all what each spectator desired, and how Miss Venus was
successful in each and every crucial test.

Explanation.

“In this trick a code of signs and things to be done must be learned by the
alleged mesmerist. These he forces adroitly into the minds of the people.
The following is the forcing code:
“1. Pull a gentleman’s hair.
“2. Turn up his trousers.
“3. Tie a number of knots in his handkerchief.
“4. Take a watch out of a gentleman’s pocket and place it in another pocket.
“5. Open a lady’s reticule; take out her purse, or anything she may desire.

“6. From out of a number of coins placed in a hat, pick out the special one
which has been selected.
“7. Write any number selected on a card.
“8. Take a gentleman’s cane or umbrella and put it in the hands of another
gentleman.
“9. Take glasses off a person and place on own nose.
“10. Take off lady’s or gentleman’s gloves.
“11. Write autograph on programme gentleman holds.
“13. Take a handkerchief out of some person’s pocket and tie it on his neck
or arm.
“14. Tie a knot in a watch chain, and so on.
“This can be varied indefinitely.
“How to force these requests: The professor first pretends to hypnotize the
subject; then moving among the audience, he goes to number one, or first
person, and asks him what he would like the medium to do. ‘Let her tell me
what I have in my pocket,’ suggests the spectator. ‘Oh,’ says the professor,
‘you forget that she is hypnotized and we cannot have her speak. Get her to
do so and so, or this, or that,’ and so the professor rapidly shoots out a
volley of suggestions from his learned code. As a natural result, the person
selects one of these suggestions.
“Going to the next, he forces the questions differently, saying, ‘What shall
she do for you—turn up your trousers? Pull your hair? Tie a knot in your
handkerchief?’ etc. In this case a volley of queries is fired before the
gentleman has time to make any suggestions not mentioned by the
professor. Seeing a lady sitting near with a bag, the ‘mesmerist’ remarks:
‘Madam, have you a purse in it? Yes? Shall the lady remove it, or
something from it?’ and so on. Again he beholds a gentleman with glasses
on, and suggests that the medium remove the spectacles, etc. If, however,
the gentleman does not wish this done, the professor suggests some of the
other tests. In going through the audience the professor asks each individual

his or her request in whispers only, and he generally has each person whom
he asks a couple of yards apart.
“Again it is better, when forcing questions, to force only three at a time, and
force them in rotation. To do this, suggest three questions, but emphasize or
force only one of the three. The professor has to keep his wits about him.
Having gone to a sufficient number in the audience, he must keep mental
track of the gentleman who selected No. 1 of code, of him who selected No.
2, and so on. When he returns to the stage to wave down Miss Venus, all
she has to do is to follow him in front or at his side. The first person he
stops at (by signal), she merely does first on code; the second he stops at,
she does second on code; and so on right through. The professor must
remember where each chooser is seated.
“He directs the medium to the spectator in question by the movements of
his hands. He first shows her the rows in which the persons are seated, all
the time waving his hands as if making mesmeric passes. As soon as the
medium reaches No. 1 the professor drops his left hand at his side,
whereupon she stops and pulls the gentleman’s hair.
“The professor then directs her to No. 2. She stops and turns up the
gentleman’s trousers. When she gets to No. 3 the man of mystery tells her
how many knots to tie in the handkerchief, by the number of downward
waves of left hand, at the same time making passes with the right. To select
any special coin out of a hat, or other receptacle, Miss Venus pours the
coins from the hat into her right hand, letting them drop one by one into the
left hand. When she reaches the proper article, the professor turns to the
audience, as if silencing them, and says ‘hist!’
“The lady, however, continues pouring the coins into her left hand, and
when all are in, picks out the one she knows is correct.
“These methods may be readily varied to suit the taste of the performers.
“The medium’s eyes appear to be closed all the time, but in fact are open
sufficiently for her to see all the movements of the professor. After
becoming expert it will not be necessary to use the forcing code often,
because all requests can be whispered to the medium by the so-called
mesmerist, without the audience becoming aware of it. He can do this when

he escorts her from the stage to the audience, or as he occasionally passes
her in the aisles. The waving of his hands and arms in his different ‘passes’
will partly tell her what she is expected to do.
“This ‘hypnotic demonstration’ is one of the most puzzling effects in the
whole domain of mental magic.”

BOOK II.
ANCIENT MAGIC.

CHAPTER I.
TEMPLE TRICKS OF THE GREEKS.

PUPPET SHOWS AMONG THE GREEKS.

The ancients, especially the Greeks, were very fond of theatrical
representations; but, as M. Magnin has remarked in his “Origines du
Théâtre Moderne,” public representations were very expensive, and for that
reason very rare. Moreover, those who were not in a condition of freedom
were excluded from them; and, finally, all cities could not have a large
theater and provide for the expenses that it carried with it. It became
necessary, then, for every-day needs, for all conditions and for all places,
that there should be comedians of an inferior order, charged with the duty of
offering continuously and inexpensively the emotions of the drama to all
classes of inhabitants.
Formerly, as to-day, there were seen, wandering from village to village,
menageries, puppet shows, fortune tellers, jugglers, and performers of tricks
of all kinds. These prestidigitateurs even obtained at times such celebrity
that history has preserved their names for us—at least of two of them,
Euclides and Theodosius, to whom statues were erected by their
contemporaries. One of these was put up at Athens, in the Theater of
Bacchus, alongside of that of the great writer of tragedy, Æschylus, and the
other at the Theater of the Istiaians, holding in the hand a small ball. The
grammarian Athenæus, who reports these facts in his “Banquet of the
Sages,” profits by the occasion to deplore the taste of the Athenians, who

preferred the inventions of mechanics to the culture of mind, and histrions
to philosophers. He adds with vexation that Diophites of Locris passed
down to posterity simply because he came one day to Thebes, wearing
around his body bladders filled with wine and milk, and so arranged that he
could spurt at will one of these liquids in apparently drawing it from his
mouth. What would Athenæus say if he knew that it was through him alone
that the name of this histrion had come down to us?
Philo of Byzantium, and Heron of Alexandria, to whom we always have to
have recourse when we desire accurate information as to the mechanic arts
of antiquity, both composed treatises on puppet shows. That of Philo is lost,
but Heron’s treatise has been preserved to us, and has recently been
translated in part by M. Victor Prou.

FIG. 1.—THE SHRINE OF BACCHUS. FROM AN OLD PRINT.
Enlarged image (200 kB)

According to the Greek engineer, there were several kinds of puppet shows.
The oldest and simplest consisted of a small stationary case, isolated on
every side, in which the stage was closed by doors that opened
automatically several times to exhibit the different tableaux. The
programme of the representation was generally as follows: The first tableau
showed a head, painted on the back of the stage, which moved its eyes, and
lowered and raised them alternately. The door having been closed, and then
opened again, there was seen, instead of a head, a group of persons. Finally,
the stage opened a third time to show a new group, and this finished the

representation. There were, then, only three movements to be made—that of
the doors, that of the eyes, and that of the change of background.

FIG. 2.—THE SHRINE OF BACCHUS. MECHANISM FOR
DELIVERING WINE AND MILK. FROM AN OLD PRINT.
Enlarged image (160 kB)

FIG. 3.—THE SHRINE OF BACCHUS. SECTION SHOWING
THE PROPELLING MECHANISM.

As such representations were often given on the stages of large theaters, a
method was devised later on of causing the case to start from the scenes
behind which it was hidden from the spectators, and of moving
automatically to the front of the stage, where it exhibited in succession the
different tableaux, after which it returned automatically behind the scenes.
Here is one of the scenes indicated by Heron, entitled the “Triumph of
Bacchus”:
The movable case shows at its upper part a platform from which arises a
cylindrical temple, the roof of which, supported by six columns, is conical,
and surmounted by a figure of Victory with spread wings and holding a

crown in her right hand. In the center of the temple Bacchus is seen
standing, holding a thyrsus in his left hand and a cup in his right. At his feet
lies a panther. In front of and behind the god, on the platform of the stage,
are two altars provided with combustible material. Very near the columns,
but external to them, there are Bacchantes placed in any posture that may be
desired. All being thus prepared, says Heron, the automatic apparatus is set
in motion. The theater then moves of itself to the spot selected, and there
stops. Then the altar in front of Jupiter becomes lighted, and, at the same
time, milk and water spurt from his thyrsus, while his cup pours wine over
the panther. The four faces of the base become encircled with crowns, and,
to the noise of drums and cymbals, the Bacchantes dance round about the
temple. Soon, the noise having ceased, Victory on the top of the temple, and
Bacchus within it, face about. The altar that was behind the god is now in
front of him, and becomes lighted in its turn. Then occurs another outflow
from the thyrsus and cup, and another round of the Bacchantes to the sound
of drums and cymbals. The dance being finished, the theater returns to its
former station. Thus ends the apotheosis.

FIG. 4.

We shall try to briefly indicate the processes which permitted of these
different operations being performed, and which offer a much more general
interest than one might at first sight be led to believe; for almost all of them
had been employed in former times for producing the illusions to which
ancient religions owed their power.
There is a general belief among mechanicians that vehicles containing
within themselves the means of their own propulsion are of comparatively
recent origin; and the fact of the adhesion of the rims of their wheels to the
earth or a supporting rail being sufficient to enable adequate power applied
to the wheels to move the vehicle was a discovery of not earlier than the
middle of the last century; but in this instance the writers on locomotive
machines have not dived deep enough or stayed down long enough among
the records of antiquity to discover the bottom facts in the history of such
mechanisms.
The first locomotive, or self-moving vehicle, of which we have any account
was this invention of Heron of Alexandria. In his work just cited descriptive
of automatic or self-moving machines, there is illustrated the mechanism by
which the shrine of Bacchus, mounted upon three wheels concealed within
its base, is moved. Fig. 3 is a vertical section of that part of the shrine below
the canopy, and exhibits the propelling apparatus of this ancient locomotive
machine. Within the base are seen two of the supporting wheels; the driving
wheel nearest the eye having been removed. On the axle of the driving
wheels was the drum, b, about which was wound the rope, a, which passed
upward through the space on one side of the shrine and over the pulleys, r r,
and was fastened to the ring, c, of the ponderous lead weight, d, which
rested upon a quantity of dry, fine sand. The escape of this sand through a
small hole in the middle of the floor of the compartment containing it
allowed the lead weight, d, to gradually descend, and by pulling upon the
cord, a, caused the shrine to move slowly forward in a straight line.

FIG. 5.

Heron describes the method of arranging and proportioning the wheels in
case it was desired that the shrine move in a circular path. He also shows
how the shrine can be constructed to move in straight lines at right angles to
each other.
Fig. 4 shows the arrangement of the wheels for this purpose, and Fig. 5 is a
perspective view, showing the screws by which the bearings of either set of
wheels could be raised or lowered, so as to cause the shrine to move in the
way proposed.
Supposing the motive cords properly wound around vertical bobbins,
instead of a horizontal one, and we have the half revolution of Bacchus and
Victory, as well as the complete revolution of the Bacchantes. This is
clearly shown in the engraving (Fig. 2).
The successive lighting of the two altars, the flow of milk and wine, and the
noise of drums and cymbals were likewise obtained by the aid of cords
moved by counterpoises, and the lengths of which were graduated in such a
way as to open and close orifices at the proper moment, by acting through
traction on sliding valves which kept them closed.

Small pieces of combustible material were piled up beforehand on the two
altars, the bodies of which were of metal, and in the interior of which were
hidden small lamps that were separated from the combustible by a metal
plate which was drawn aside at the proper moment by a small chain. The
flame, on traversing the orifice, thus communicated with the combustible.

FIG. 6.—THE MARVELOUS STATUE OF CYBELE.

The milk and wine which flowed out at two different times through the
thyrsus and cup of Bacchus came from a double reservoir hidden under the
roof of the temple, over the orifices. The latter communicated, each of
them, with one of the halves of the reservoir, through two tubes inserted in

the columns of the small edifice. These tubes were prolonged under the
floor of the stage, and extended upward to the hands of Bacchus. A key,
manœuvred by cords, alternately opened and closed the orifices which gave
passage to the two liquids.
As for the noise of the drums and cymbals, that resulted from the falling of
granules of lead, contained in an invisible box provided with an automatic
sliding valve, upon an inclined tambourine, whence they rebounded against
little cymbals in the interior of the base of the car.
Finally, the crowns and garlands that suddenly made their appearance on
the four faces of the base of the stage were hidden there in advance between
the two walls surrounding the base. The space thus made for the crowns
was closed beneath, along each face, by a horizontal trap moving on hinges
that connected it with the inner wall of the base, but which was held
temporarily stationary by means of a catch. The crowns were attached to the
top of their compartment by cords that would have allowed them to fall to
the level of the pedestal, had they not been supported by the traps.

FIG. 7. MARVELOUS ALTAR (ACCORDING TO HERON)

At the desired moment the catch, which was controlled by a special cord,
ceased to hold the trap, and the latter, falling vertically, gave passage to the
festoons and crowns that small leaden weights then drew along with all the
quickness necessary.
Two points here are specially worthy of attracting our attention, and these
are the flow of wine or milk from the statue of Bacchus, and the
spontaneous lighting of the altar. These, in fact, were the two illusions that
were most admired in ancient times, and there were several processes of
performing them. Father Kircher possessed in his museum an apparatus
which he describes in “Œdipus Ægyptiacus” (t. ii., p. 333), and which
probably came from some ancient Egyptian temple as shown in Fig. 6.

It consisted of a hollow hemispherical dome, supported by four columns,
and placed over the statue of the goddess of many breasts. To two of these
columns were adapted movable brackets, at whose extremities there were
fixed lamps. The hemisphere was hermetically closed underneath by a
metal plate. The small altar which supported the statue, and which was
filled with milk, communicated with the interior of the statue by a tube
reaching nearly to the bottom. The altar likewise communicated with the
hollow dome by a tube having a double bend. At the moment of the
sacrifice the two lamps were lighted and the brackets turned so that the
flames should come in contact with and heat the bottom of the dome. The
air contained in the latter, being dilated, passed through the tube X M and
pressed on the milk contained in the altar, and caused it to rise through the
straight tube into the interior of the statue as high as the breasts. A series of
small conduits, into which the principal tube divided, carried the liquid to
the breasts, whence it spurted out, to the great admiration of the spectators,
who cried out at the miracle. The sacrifice being ended, the lamps were put
out, and the milk ceased to flow.
Heron of Alexandria describes in his “Pneumatics” several analogous
apparatus. Here is one of them. (M. de Rochas translates the Greek text
literally.)
“To construct an altar in such a way that, when a fire is lighted thereon, the
statues at the side of it shall make libations (Fig. 7).
“Let there be a pedestal, Α Β Γ Δ, on which are placed statues, and an altar,
Ε Ζ Η, closed on every side. The pedestal should also be hermetically
closed, but is connected with the altar through a central tube. It is traversed
likewise by the tube, e Λ (in the interior of the statue to the right), not far
from the bottom, which terminates in a cup held by the statue, e. Water is
poured into the pedestal through a hole, Μ, which is afterward corked up.

FIG. 8.—MARVELOUS ALTAR (ACCORDING TO HERON).

“If, then, a fire be lighted on the altar, the internal air will be dilated, and
will enter the pedestal and drive out the water contained in it. But the latter,
having no other exit than the tube, e Λ, will rise into the cup, and so the
statue will make a libation. This will last as long as the fire does. On
extinguishing the fire the libation ceases, and occurs anew as often as the
fire is relighted.
“It is necessary that the tube through which the heat is to introduce itself
shall be wider in the middle; and it is necessary, in fact, that the heat, or
rather that the draught that it produces, shall accumulate in an inflation, in
order to have more effect.”

According to Father Kircher, an author whom he calls Bitho reports that
there was at Saïs a temple of Minerva in which there was an altar on which,
when a fire was lighted, Dionysius and Artemis (Bacchus and Diana)
poured milk and wine, while a dragon hissed.
It is easy to conceive of the modification to be introduced into the apparatus
above described by Heron, in order to cause the outflow of milk from one
side and of wine from the other.
After having indicated it, Father Kircher adds: “It is thus that Bacchus and
Diana appeared to pour, one of them wine, and the other milk, and that the
dragon seemed to applaud their action by hisses. As the people who were
present at the spectacle did not see what was going on within, it is not
astonishing that they believed it due to divine intervention. We know, in
fact, that Osiris or Bacchus was considered as the discoverer of the vine and
of milk; that Iris was the genius of the waters of the Nile; and that the
Serpent, or good genius, was the first cause of all these things. Since,
moreover, sacrifices had to be made to the gods in order to obtain benefits,
the flow of milk, wine, or water, as well as the hissing of the serpent, when
the sacrificial flame was lighted, appeared to demonstrate clearly the
existence of the gods.”
In another analogous apparatus of Heron’s, it is steam that performs the rôle
that we have just seen played by dilated air. But the ancients do not appear
to have perceived the essential difference, as regards motive power, that
exists between these two agents; indeed, their preferences were wholly for
air, although the effects produced were not very great. We might cite several
small machines of this sort, but we shall confine ourselves to one example
that has some relation to our subject. This also is borrowed from Heron’s
“Pneumatics.” (Fig. 8.)
“Fire being lighted on an altar, figures will appear to execute a round dance.
The altars should be transparent, and of glass or horn. From the fireplace
there starts a tube which runs to the base of the altar, where it revolves on a
pivot, while its upper part revolves in a tube fixed to the fireplace. To the
tube there should be adjusted other tubes (horizontal) in communication
with it, which cross each other at right angles, and which are bent in
opposite directions at their extremities. There is likewise fixed to it a disk

upon which are attached figures which form a round. When the fire of the
altar is lighted, the air, becoming heated, will pass into the tube; but being
driven from the latter, it will pass through the small bent tubes and ... cause
the tube as well as the figures to revolve.”
Father Kircher, who had at his disposal either many documents that we are
not acquainted with, or else a very lively imagination, alleges (Œdip. Æg.,
t. ii., p. 338) that King Menes took much delight in seeing such figures
revolve. Nor are the examples of holy fireplaces that kindled spontaneously
wanting in antiquity.
Pliny (Hist. Nat., ii., 7) and Horace (Serm. Sat., v.) tell us that this
phenomenon occurred in the temple of Gnatia, and Solin (ch. v.) says that it
was observed likewise on an altar near Agrigentum. Athenæus (Deipn., i.,
15) says that the celebrated prestidigitateur, Cratisthenes of Phlius, pupil of
another celebrated prestidigitateur named Xenophon, knew the art of
preparing a fire which lighted spontaneously.
Pausanias tells us that in a city of Lydia, whose inhabitants, having fallen
under the yoke of the Persians, had embraced the religion of the Magi,
“there exists an altar upon which there are ashes which, in color, resemble
no other. The priest puts wood on the altar, and invokes I know not what
god by harangues taken from a book written in a barbarous tongue
unknown to the Greeks, when the wood soon lights of itself without fire,
and the flame from it is very clear.”
The secret, or rather one of the secrets of the Magi, has been revealed to us
by one of the Fathers of the Church (St. Hippolytus, it is thought), who has
left, in a work entitled Philosophumena, which is designed to refute the
doctrines of the pagans, a chapter on the illusions of their priests. According
to him, the altars on which this miracle took place contained, instead of
ashes, calcined lime and a large quantity of incense reduced to powder; and
this would explain the unusual color of the ashes observed by Pausanias.
The process, moreover, is excellent; for it is only necessary to throw a little
water on the lime, with certain precautions, to develop a heat capable of
setting on fire incense or any other material that is more readily
combustible, such as sulphur and phosphorus. The same author points out
still another means, and this consists in hiding fire-brands in small bells that

were afterward covered with shavings, the latter having previously been
covered with a composition made of naphtha and bitumen (Greek fire). As
may be seen, a very small movement sufficed to bring about combustion.

THE MACHINERY OF THE TEMPLES.

A. Rich, in his “Dictionary of Roman and Grecian Antiquities,” relates,
under the word adytum, that many ancient temples possessed chambers that
were known only to the priests, and that served for the production of their
mysteries. He was enabled to visit a perfectly preserved one of these at
Alba, on Lake Fucino, in the ruins of a temple in which it had been formed
under the apsis, that is to say, under the large semicircular niche which
usually held the image of the god at the extreme end of the edifice. “One
part of this chamber,” says he, “is sunk beneath the pavement of the
principal part of the temple (cella), and the other rises above it. The latter,
then, must have appeared to the worshippers assembled in the temple
merely like a base that occupied the lower portion of the apsis, and that was
designed to hold in an elevated position the statue of the divinity whose
name was borne by the edifice. This sanctuary, moreover, had no door or
visible communication that opened into the body of the temple. Entrance
therein was effected through a hidden door in an inclosure of walls at the
rear end of the building. It was through this that the priests introduced
themselves and their machines without being seen or recognized. But there
is one remarkable fact, and one which proves without question the purpose
of the adytum, and that is, that we find therein a number of tubes or hollow
conduits which form a communication between this compartment and the
interior of the temple, which end at the different parts of the walls of the
cella, and which thus allowed a voice to make itself heard at any place in
the temple, while the person and the place whence the sound emanated
remained hidden.”

APPARATUS FOR SOUNDING A TRUMPET WHEN THE DOOR OF A TEMPLE
WAS OPENED.

Sometimes the adytum was simply a chamber situated behind the apsis, as
in a small edifice which was still in existence at Rome in the sixteenth
century, and a description of which has been left to us by Labbacco, an
architect of that epoch.
Colonel Fain tells us that he himself has visited an ancient temple in Syria,
in the interior of all the walls of which there had been formed narrow
passages through which a man could make a tour of the building without
being seen.
In the temple of Ceres, at Eleusis, the pavement of the cella is rough and
much lower than the level of the adjacent portico; and, moreover, the side
walls exhibit apertures and vertical and horizontal grooves whose purpose it
is difficult to divine, but which served, perhaps, for the establishing of a
movable flooring like that spoken of by Philostratus in the “Life of
Apollonius” (lib. iii., ch. v.). “The sages of India,” says he, “led Apollonius
toward the temple of their god, singing hymns on the way, and forming a

sacred procession. The earth, which they strike in cadence with their staves,
moves like an agitated sea, and raises them to a height of nearly two paces,
and then settles again and assumes its former level.”
The statues of the gods, when they were of large dimensions, possessed
cavities which the priests entered through hidden passages, in order to
deliver oracles (Theodoret, Hist. Eccl., vol. xxii.).
We read in Pausanias (Arcadica, lib. viii., ch. xvi.) that at Jerusalem the
tomb of a woman of the country, named Helen, had a door made of marble
like the rest of the monument, and that this door opened of itself on a
certain day of the year, and at a certain hour, by means of a machine, and
closed again some time afterward. “At any other time,” adds he, “had you
desired to open it, you had sooner broken it.”
According to Pliny (xxxvi. 14), the gates of the labyrinth of Thebes were so
constituted that when they were opened they emitted a noise like that of
thunder.
Heron, in his “Pneumatics,” gives us an explanation of some of these
prodigies.
Our first engraving is sufficiently clear to permit of dispensing with a
reproduction of the Greek engineer’s text in this place. It will be seen that
when the door is opened, a system of cords, guide-pulleys, and rods pushes
into a vessel of water a hemisphere, to the upper part of which a trumpet is
fixed. The air compressed by the water escapes through the instrument and
causes it to make a sound.

MECHANISM FOR OPENING AND CLOSING THE DOORS WHEN
A FIRE WAS LIGHTED UPON THE ALTAR.

Our second and third engravings are likewise borrowed from Heron.
The altar is hollow, as shown at E, in second engraving. When fire is lighted
thereon, the air contained in the interior dilates and presses against the
water with which the globe situated beneath is filled. This water then runs
through a bent tube into a sort of pail suspended from a cord that passes
over a pulley, and afterward separates into two parts, and winds around two
cylinders movable upon pivots, and forming a prolongation of the axes
around which the doors revolve. Around the same cylinders are wound in
opposite directions two other cords, which likewise unite into a single one
before passing over a pulley, and then hang vertically in order to hold a
counterpoise.

TEMPLE WHOSE DOORS OPENED WHEN A FIRE WAS LIGHTED
UPON THE ALTAR.

It is clear that, when the water from the globe enters the pail, the weight of
the latter will be thereby increased, and that it will descend and draw on the
cord, which has been wound around the cylinders in such a way as to cause
the doors to open when it is drawn in this direction.
The doors are afterward closed again as follows: The bent tube that puts the
globe and pail in communication forms a siphon whose longer arm enters
the globe. When the fire is extinguished upon the altar, the air contained in
the latter and in the globe becomes cooled and diminished in volume. The
water in the pail is then drawn into the globe, and the siphon, being thus
naturally primed, operates until all the water in the pail has passed over into

the globe. In measure as the pail lightens, it rises under the influence of the
counterpoise; and the latter, in its descent, closes the doors through the
intermedium of the cords wound around the cylinder. Heron says that
mercury was sometimes used instead of water on account of its being
heavier.

INVENTION IN 1889 A.D. VS. INVENTION B.C.

At the railway stations, ferry houses, and even upon the street corners, there
may be found in almost every city and village in the United States
automatic vending machines, which, for a nickel, or more or less, will
deliver the various goods which they are adapted to sell. The purchaser may
procure a newspaper and a cigar to smoke, or, if averse to the use of the
weed, he may secure a tablet of chewing-gum or a package of sweets. If
entertainment is desired, it may be found in the “nickel-in-the-slot”
phonograph.
In Europe and America machines of this class are provided for dealing out
portable liquors; bouquets are also furnished in a similar way; and if you
desire to know how much you have increased in weight since yesterday, all
that need be done is to mount the platform of the nickel-in-the-slot scales,
and drop in your coin, and the thing is done. One of the latest achievements
in this line is the automatic photographic apparatus, which takes your
picture for a nickel, while you wait.
The craze has even gone so far as to apply the principle to the distribution
of perfumery. In the railway stations and ferry houses may be found
machines which, for a penny, will dole out a drop or two of liquid which
passes for perfumery, and which, in many cases, serves as a thin mask for
bodily uncleanliness.
These various devices, and many others which we might mention, are
regarded as very clever inventions, and have certainly proved successful in
many cases in a pecuniary sense.
The last automatic vending machine alluded to is shown in our second
engraving. The perfume reservoir is located in the upper portion of the vase;

the tube communicating with the lower part of the reservoir extends through
the side of the vase, and is closed at its upper end by a valve attached to one
end of the lever, O. The other end of the lever, O, is connected by a rod with
the lever, E, the longer arm of this lever being provided with a pan, R, for
receiving coin, while the shorter arm of the lever is furnished with a weight
for counterbalancing the pan and closing the valve. A curved piece of metal
is arranged concentric with the path of the pan, R, and serves to retain the
coin dropped into it through the slot in the top of the vase until the pan, R,
is carried down beyond the end of the curved plate, when the coin is
discharged into the lower part of the vase; the counterweight on the short
arm of the lever then returns the lever to the point of starting and closes the
valve, thus stopping the flow of the perfume.

LUSTRAL WATER VESSEL DESCRIBED BY HERON ABOUT 100 B.C.

NOBLE’S AUTOMATIC PERFUME DISTRIBUTOR. PATENTED IN 1889.

This very clever device was patented by Mr. Lewis C. Noble, of Boston,
Mass., on November 19, 1889. Our illustration is prepared directly from the
patent drawings. This and other machines for analogous purposes are
regarded as the peculiar product of our inventive age, but in turning back
the pages of history, we find that in Egypt, something more than two
thousand years ago, when a worshiper was about to enter the temple, he
sprinkled himself with lustral water, taken from a vase near the entrance.
The priests made the distribution of holy water a source of revenue by the
employment of the automatic vending machine which is shown in our first
engraving. This apparatus would not release a single drop of the purifying
liquid until coin to the amount required had been deposited in the vase.
A comparison of the ancient lustral water vase and the modern perfumery
vending machine will show that they are substantially alike. The ancient
machine has a lever, O, fulcrumed in the standard, N, and connected with
the valve in the reservoir, H. The lever is furnished with the pan, R, for
receiving the coins dropped through the slot, A, at the top of the vase. An

enlarged view of the valve belonging to the vase is shown at the left of the
engraving.
The mechanism is almost identical with that shown in the modern device; in
fact, this ancient vase, described by Heron more than two thousand years
ago, is the prototype of all modern automatic vending machines, and simply
serves as another proof of the truth of the saying, “There is nothing new
under the sun.”
It is a curious fact that this ancient invention escaped the notice of the
Patent Office until long after patents were granted for the earlier automatic
vending machines. It was only a comparatively short time ago that the
Patent Office began to cite the vase of Heron as a reference. It was
discovered in an ancient work on natural philosophy, and it is a matter of
considerable interest to us now to know that this device was well-known to
the Patent Office during the middle of this century. The vase of Heron is
illustrated and described in a work on hydraulics and mechanics published
in 1850 by Thomas Ewbank, who was at that time Commissioner of
Patents.

AN EGYPTIAN LUSTRAL WATER VESSEL.

Two thousand years ago the Egyptian priests sold holy water to the faithful
by a similar process to that which we have just described, although the
apparatus did not partake of the nickel-in-the-slot character. Heron says of
them, that there are placed in Egyptian sanctuaries, near the portico,
movable bronze wheels which those who are entering cause to revolve
“because brass passes for a purifier.” He says that it is expedient to arrange
them in such a way that the rotation of the wheel will cause the flow of the
lustral water. He describes the apparatus as follows:

EGYPTIAN LUSTRAL WATER VESSEL.

“Let Α Β Γ Δ be a water vessel hidden behind the posts of the entrance
doors. This vessel is pierced at the bottom with a hole, Ε, and under it there
is fixed a tube, Ζ Η Θ Κ, having an aperture opposite the one in the bottom
of the vessel. In this tube there is placed another one, Λ Μ, which is fixed to
the former at Λ. This tube, Λ Μ, likewise contains an aperture, Π, in a line
with the two preceding. Between these two tubes there is adapted a third, Ν
Ξ Ο Ρ, movable by friction on each of them, and having an aperture, Σ,
opposite Ε.
“If these three holes be in a straight line, the water, when poured into the
vessel, Α Β Γ Δ, will flow out through the tube, Λ Μ; but if the tube, Ν Ξ Ο
Ρ, be turned in such a way as to displace the aperture, Σ, the flow will cease.
It is only necessary, then, to so fix the wheel, Ν Ξ Ο Ρ, that, when made to
revolve, the water shall flow.”
This ingenious system of cocks having several ways was reproduced in the
sixteenth century by Jacques Besson, in his “Theatrum Instrumentorum et
Machinarum.” Besson applied it to a cask provided with compartments,

which gave at will different liquors through the same orifice. Some years
later, Denis Papin proposed it for high-pressure steam engines. Further
improved, it has become the modern long D valve.

CHAPTER II.
MIRACULOUS VESSELS OF THE GREEKS.

THE DICAIOMETER.

Heron, in his “Pneumatics,” describes a large number of wonderful vessels
that were used by the ancients, and, among them, one called the
“dicaiometer” (a correct measure), which allowed of the escape of but a
definite quantity of the liquid that it contained.

THE DICAIOMETER.

This was constructed as follows: Let us suppose a vessel (see the
illustration) whose neck is closed by a diaphragm. Near the bottom there is
placed a small sphere, Τ, of a capacity equal to the quantity that it is desired
to pour out. Through the diaphragm there passes a small tube, Δ Ε, which
communicates with the small sphere. This tube contains a very small
aperture, Δ, near and beneath the diaphragm. The sphere contains at its
lower part a small aperture, Ζ, whence starts a tube, Ζ Η, that communicates
with the hollow handle of the ewer. Alongside of this aperture the globe
contains another one, Λ, through which it communicates with the interior of
the ewer. The handle is provided with a vent, Θ. After closing the latter, the

ewer is filled with liquid through an aperture that is afterwards stopped up.
The tube, Δ Ε, may likewise be made use of, but in this case it is necessary
to form a small aperture in the body of the ewer in order to allow the air to
make its exit. The globe, Τ, fills at the same time that the ewer does. Now, if
we turn the ewer over, leaving the vent Θ open, the liquid in the globe, Τ,
and in the small tube, Δ Ε, will flow out. If we close the vent and bring the
ewer to its former position, the globe and the tube will fill up anew, since
the air that they contain will be expelled by the liquid that enters thereinto.
The ewer being again turned over, an equal quantity of liquid will flow
anew, save a difference due to the small tube, Δ Ε, since this latter will not
always be full, and will empty in measure as the ewer does; but such
difference is very insignificant.

MIRACULOUS VESSELS.

Ctesias, the Greek, who was physician to the Court of Persia at the
beginning of the fourth century of our era, and who has written a history of
that country, narrates the following fact: Xerxes, having caused the tomb of
Belus to be opened, found the body of the Assyrian monarch in a glass
coffin which was nearly full of oil. “Woe to him,” said an inscription at the
side, “who, having violated this tomb, does not at once finish the filling of
the coffin.”
Xerxes, therefore, at once gave orders to have oil poured into it; but
whatever the quantity was that was put in, the coffin could not be filled.
This miracle must have been effected by means of a siphon, analogous to
the one found in the Tantalus cup, and which becomes primed as soon as
the level rises in the vessel above the horizontal; that is, on a line with the
upper part of the tube’s curve. In fact, proof has been found of the use of the
siphon among the Egyptians as far back as the eighteenth dynasty, and
Heron, in his “Pneumatics” (book xii., chap. iii.), describes a very large
number of vessels that are founded upon its use.
The ancients, likewise, solved a problem contrary to that of the tomb of
Belus, and that was one connected with the construction of a vessel that
should always remain full, whatever was the quantity of water that was

removed from it, or, at least, which should remain full even when a large
quantity of water was taken from it.
The annexed engraving (Fig. 1) shows one of the arrangements employed.

FIG. 1.—A MIRACULOUS VESSEL OF HERON.

“Let Α Β be a vessel containing a quantity of water equal to that which may
be demanded, and Γ Δ a tube that puts it in communication with a reservoir,
Η Θ, lower down. Near this tube there is fixed a lever, Ε Ζ, from whose
extremity, Ε, is suspended a cork float, Κ, and to whose other extremity, Ζ,
there is hooked a chain that carries a leaden weight, Ξ.

“The whole should be so arranged that the cork, Κ, which floats on the
water, shall close the tube’s orifice; that when the water flows out, the cork,
in falling, shall leave such aperture free; and, finally, that when a new
supply of water enters, the cork shall rise with it and close the orifice anew.
To effect this the cork must be heavier than the leaden weight suspended at
Ξ. Now, let Λ Μ be a vessel whose edges should be at the same height as
the level of the water in the reservoir when there is no flow through the tube
because of the cork float. Again, let Θ Ν be a tube that connects the
reservoir with the base of the vessel, Λ Μ.

FIG. 2.—MIRACULOUS VESSEL OF HERON.

“So, then, when we remove water from the vessel, Λ Μ, after it has once
been filled, we shall at the same time lower the level of the water in the
reservoir, and the cork, in falling, will open the tube. The water thereupon
running into the lower reservoir, and from thence into the external vessel,
will cause the cork to rise and the flow to cease, and this will occur every
time that we remove water from the tazza.”
There were, also, vessels which discharged but a certain definite quantity of
the liquid that they contained. We have already described one of these, but
here is another that is more complicated, wherein the quantity of liquid that
it measures out may be caused to vary in the same vessel.
A vessel containing wine, and provided with a spout, being placed upon a
pedestal, to cause the spout, by the simple moving of a weight, to allow a
given quantity of wine to flow; now, for example, half a cotyle (0.13 liter),
and now a whole cotyle; or, briefly, any quantity that may be desired.
“Let Α Β be the vessel into which the wine is to be put (Fig. 2). Near its
bottom there is a spout, Δ. Its neck is closed by a partition, Ε Ζ, through
which passes a tube that runs to the bottom, but leaving, however, sufficient
space for the passage of the water. Let Κ Λ Μ Ν be the pedestal upon which
the vessel stands, and Ξ Ο another tube that reaches as far as the partition
and enters the pedestal. In the latter there is sufficient water to stop up the
orifice of the tube, Ξ Ο. Finally, let Π Ρ be a lever, half of which is in the
interior of the pedestal and the other half external to it, and which pivots on
the point Σ, and carries suspended from its extremity, Π, a clepsydra having
an aperture, Τ, in the bottom.
“The spout being closed, the vessel is filled through the tube, Η Θ, before
putting water into the pedestal, so that the air may escape through the tube,
Ξ Ο. Then, through any aperture whatever, water is poured into the pedestal
in such a way as to close the orifice, Ο; and, after this, the spout, Δ, is
opened. It is clear that the wine will not flow, since the air cannot enter
anywhere. But, if we depress the extremity, Ρ, of the lever, a part of the
clepsydra will rise from the water, and the orifice, Ο, being freed, the spout
will flow until the water lifted up in the clepsydra has, on running out,
closed this same orifice again. If, when the clepsydra has become full again,
we still further depress the extremity, Ρ, the liquid in the clepsydra will take

longer to flow out, and more wine will consequently be discharged from the
spout. If the clepsydra rises entirely from out the water, the flow will last
still longer yet. Instead of depressing the extremity, Ρ, by hand, we may use
a weight, Φ, which is movable on the external part of the lever and capable
of lifting the whole of the clepsydra out of the water when it is placed near
Ρ. This weight, then, will lift a portion only when it is farther away from
such point. We must proceed, therefore, with a certain number of
experiments upon the flow through the spout, and make notches on the
lever arm, Ρ Ξ, and register the quantities of wine that correspond thereto,
so that, when we desire to cause a definite quantity to flow, we shall only
have to put the weight on the corresponding notch, and leave it.”
The miracle of changing water into wine is one of those upon which the
ancients exercised their imaginations most. Heron and Philo describe fifteen
apparatus designed for effecting this, and more generally for causing
different liquors to flow at will from the same vessel.
Here is one of the simplest of them (Fig. 3): “There are,” says Heron,
“certain drinking-horns which, after wine has been put into them, allow of
the flow, when water is introduced into them, now of pure wine, and now of
pure water.
“They are constructed as follows: Let Α Β Γ Δ be a drinking-horn provided
with two diaphragms, Δ Ε and Ζ Η, through which passes a tube, Θ Κ, this
being soldered to them and containing an aperture, Λ, slightly above the
diaphragm, Ζ Η. Beneath the diaphragm, Δ Ε, there is a vent, Μ, in the side
of the vessel.
“Such arrangements having been made, if any one, on stopping the orifice,
Γ, pours wine into the horn, the liquor will flow through the aperture, Δ,
into the compartment, Δ Ε Ζ Η, since the air contained therein can escape
through the vent, M. If, now, we close the vent, the wine in the
compartment, Δ Ε Ζ Η, will be held there. Consequently, if, on closing the
vent, Μ, we pour water into the part, Α Β Δ Ε, of the vessel, pure water will
flow out through the orifice, Γ; and if, afterward, we open the vent, Μ,
while there is yet water above the upper diaphragm, a mixture of wine and
water will flow out. Then, when all the water has been discharged, pure
wine will flow.

“On opening and closing the vent, Μ, oftener, the nature of the flow may be
made to vary; or, what is better still, we may begin by filling the
compartment, Δ Ε Ζ Η, with water, and then, closing Μ, pour out the wine
from above. Then we shall see a successive flow of pure wine and of wine
and water mixed, when we open the vent, Μ, and then, again, of pure wine
when the vent is closed anew; and this will occur as many times as we
desire it.”

FIG. 3.—HERON’S DRINKING-HORN.

The apparatus represented in Fig. 4 is very curious, and might be put to
some useful application, without mentioning that which wine merchants
might make of it by changing the order of the liquids and leaving in view
only the vessel, Α Β, and the cock.
“Being given,” says Heron again, “two vessels, one of them containing
wine, it is required that whatever be the quantity of water poured into the
empty one, the same quantity of a mixture of wine and water, in any

proportion whatever (two parts of water to one of wine, for example), shall
flow out through a pipe.
“Let Α Β be a vessel in the form of a cylinder, or of a rectangular
parallelopipedon. At the side of it, and upon the same base, we place
another vessel, Γ Δ, which is hermetically closed, and of cylindrical or
parallelopipedal form, like Α Β. But the base of Α Β must be double that of
Γ Δ if we desire that the quantity of water shall be double that of the wine in
the mixture. Near Γ Δ we place another vessel, Ε Ζ, which is likewise
closed, and into which we have poured wine. The vessels, Γ Δ and Ε Ζ, are
connected by a tube, Η Θ Κ which traverses the diaphragms that close them
at their upper part, and which is soldered to these. In the vessel, Ε Ζ, we
place a bent siphon, Δ Μ Ν, whose inner leg should come so near to the
bottom of the vessel as to leave just enough space for the liquid to pass,
while the other leg runs into a neighboring vessel, Ξ Ο. From this latter
there starts a tube, Π Ρ, which passes through all the vessels, or the pedestal
that supports them, in such a way that it can be easily carried under and
very near the bottom of the vessel, Α Β. Another tube, Σ Τ, traverses the
partitions in the vessels, Α Β and Γ Δ. Finally, near the bottom of Α Β we
adjust a small tube, Υ, which we inclose, with the tube Η Λ, in a pipe, Φ Ξ,
that is provided with a key for opening or closing it at will. Into the vessel,
Ε Ζ, we pour wine through an aperture, Ω, which we close after the liquor
has been introduced.

FIG. 4.—AN APPARATUS OF HERON PERMITTING OF MIXING WINE
AND WATER IN DEFINITE PROPORTIONS.

“These arrangements having been made, we close the pipe, Ξ Φ and pour
water into the vessel, Α Β. A portion, that is to say, one-half, will pass into
the vessel, Γ Δ, through the tube, Σ Τ, and the water that enters Γ Δ will
drive therefrom a quantity of air equal to itself into Ε Ζ, through the tube, Η
Θ Κ. In the same way this air will drive an equal quantity of wine into the
vessel, Ο Ξ, through the siphon, Λ Μ Ν. Now, upon opening the pipe, Φ Ξ,
the water poured into the vessel, Α Β, and the wine issuing from the vessel,
Ο Ξ, through the tube, Π Ρ, will flow together, and this is just what it was
proposed to effect.”

FIG. 5.—MAGICAL VESSELS OF THE EIGHTEENTH FIG. 6.—SECTION OF A MAGICAL
CENTURY. PITCHER.

The accompanying figures, borrowed from a work on “Scientific
Recreations,” by the late editor of La Nature, M. Gaston Tissandier,
represents a magic vase and pitcher such as the ancients were accustomed
to employ for the purpose of practicing a harmless and amusing deception
on those who were not acquainted with the structure of the apparatus. For
instance, if any one should attempt to pour wine or water from the pitcher
shown in the cut, the liquid would run out through the apertures in the sides.
But the person who knew how to use the vessel would simply place his
finger over the aperture in the hollow handle (Fig. 6) and then suck through
the spout, A, when the liquid would flow up through the handle and through
a channel running around the rim of the vessel and so reach the spout.
These magic vases, cups, pitchers, etc., were not only in use among the
ancients, but were quite common in the eighteenth century, and numerous
specimens are to be seen in European collections. The ones shown in the

accompanying cuts are preserved in the Museum at Sèvres. These apparatus
are all based on the use of concealed siphons, or, rather, their construction is
based on the principle of that instrument. Devices of this kind admit of very
numerous modifications. Thus tankards have been so contrived that the act
of applying them to the lips charged the siphon, and the liquid, instead of
entering the mouth, then passed through a false passage into a cavity
formed for its reception below. By making the cavity of the siphon
sufficiently large, a person ignorant of the device would find it a difficult
matter even to taste the contents, however thirsty he might be. Dishonest
publicans, whose signboards announced “entertainment for man and beast,”
are said to have thus despoiled travelers in old times of a portion of their ale
or mead, as well as their horses of feed. Oats were put into a perforated
manger, and a large part forced through the openings into a receptacle
below by the movements of the hungry animal’s mouth. Heron, in the
eighth problem of his “Spiritalia,” figures and describes a magical pitcher
in which a horizontal, minutely perforated partition divides the vessel into
two parts. The handle is hollow and air-tight, and at its upper part a small
hole is drilled where the thumb or finger can readily cover it. If the lower
part of the pitcher be filled with water and the upper with wine, the liquids
will not mix as long as the small hole in the handle is closed; the wine can
then be either drunk or poured out. If the hole be left open for some time, a
mixture of both liquids will be discharged. “With a vessel of this kind,” says
an old writer, “you may welcome unbidden guests. Having the lower part
already filled with water, call to your servant to fill your pot with wine; then
you may drink unto your guest, drinking up all the wine; when he takes the
pitcher, thinking to pledge you in the same, and finding the contrary, will
happily stay away until he be invited, fearing that his next presumption
might more sharply be rewarded.” Another old way of getting rid of an
unwelcome visitor was by offering him wine in a cup having double sides
and an air-tight cavity formed between them. When the vessel was filled,
some of the liquid entered the cavity and compressed the air within, so that
when the cup was inclined to the lips and partly emptied, the pressure being
diminished, the air expanded and drove part of the contents in the face of
the drinker. Another goblet was so contrived that no one could drink out of
it unless he understood the art. The liquid was suspended in cavities, and
discharged by admitting or excluding air through several secret openings.

The apparatus represented in the illustration (Fig. 7) represents an
arrangement similar to that of the inexhaustible bottle of Robert-Houdin,
but it is more ingenious. The problem proposed, as enunciated by Heron,
the Greek engineer, who describes the apparatus, is as follows: “Being
given a vessel, to pour into it, through the orifice, wines of several kinds,
and to cause any kind that may be designated to flow out through the same
orifice, so that, if different persons have poured in different wines, each
person may take out in his turn all the wine that belongs to him.
“Let Α Β be a hermetically closed vessel whose neck is provided with a
diaphragm, Ε Ζ, and which is divided into as many compartments as the
kinds of wine that it is proposed to pour into it. Let us suppose, for
example, Η Θ and Κ Α are diaphragms forming the three compartments, Μ,
Ν, and Ξ, into which wine is to be poured. In the diaphragm, Ε Ζ, there are
formed small apertures that correspond respectively to each of the
compartments. Let Ο, Π, and Ρ be such apertures, into which are soldered
small tubes, Π Σ, Ο Τ, and Ρ Υ, which project into the neck of the vessel.
Around each of these tubes there are formed in the diaphragm small
apertures like those of a sieve, through which the liquids may flow into the
different compartments. When, therefore, it is desired to introduce one of
the wines into the vessel, the vents, Σ, Τ, and Υ are stopped with the fingers,
and the wine is poured into the neck, Φ, where it will remain without
flowing into any of the compartments, because the air contained in the latter
has no means of egress. But, if one of the said vents be opened, the air in
the compartment corresponding thereto will flow out, and the wine will
flow into such compartment through the apertures of the sieve. Then,
closing this vent in order to open another, another quantity of wine will be
introduced, and so on, whatever be the number of wines and that of the
corresponding compartments of the vessel, Α Β.

FIG. 7.—THE MAGIC BOTTLE.

“Let us now see how each person in turn can draw his own wine out
through the same neck. At the bottom of the vessel, Α Β, there are arranged
tubes which start from each of the compartments, to wit: The tube χ ψ from
the compartment, Μ; the tube ω σ, from Ν, and the tube λ μ, from Ξ. The
extremities, ψ, σ, and μ, of these tubes should communicate with another
tube, α, in which is accurately adjusted another, β Γ, closed at Γ at its lower
extremity and having apertures to the right of the orifices, ψ, σ, and μ, so
that such apertures may, in measure, as the tube revolves, receive
respectively the wine contained in each of the compartments and allow it to
flow to the exterior through the orifice, β, of the said tube, β Γ. To this tube
is fixed an iron rod, δ ε, whose extremity, ε, carries a lead weight, η. To the
extremity, δ, is fixed an iron pin supporting a small conical cup whose
concavity points upward. Let us therefore suppose this truncated cone
established, its wide base at ξ, and its narrow one (through which the pin
passes) at θ.[2] Again, one must have small leaden balls of different weights,
and in number equal to that of the compartments, Μ, Ν, and Ξ. If the

smallest be placed in the cup, ξ θ, it will descend on account of its weight
until it applies itself against the internal surface of the cup, and it will be
necessary to so arrange things that it may thus cause the tube, β Γ, to turn so
as to bring beneath ψ that one of the apertures that corresponds to it, and
that will thus receive the wine of the compartment, Μ. This wine will then
flow as long as the ball remains in the cup. If, now, the ball be removed, the
weight, η, in returning to its first position, will close the orifice, ψ, and stop
the flow. If another ball be placed in the cup, a further inclination of the rod,
ε δ, will be produced, and the tube, β Γ, will revolve further, so as to bring
its corresponding aperture beneath σ. Then the wine contained in the
compartment, Ν, will flow. If the ball be removed, the weight, η, will
redescend to its primitive place, the aperture, σ, will be closed, and the wine
will cease to flow. Finally, upon placing the last ball (which is the heaviest),
the tube, β Γ, will turn still more, so as to cause the flow of the wine
contained in the compartment, Ξ.
[2] The text does not agree with the figure given by the MSS. Moreover, there is an
arrangement here that it is difficult to understand from Heron’s description.

“It must be remarked that the smallest of the balls should be so heavy that
when placed in the cup it shall outweigh the weight, η, and consequently
bring about the revolution of the tube, β Γ. The other balls will then be
sufficient to cause the revolution of the said tube.”

ANCIENT ORGANS.

The hydraulic organ filled with its powerful voice the vast arenas in which
the gladiators fought, and Petronius relates that Nero one day made a vow
to play one of them himself in public if he escaped a danger that threatened
him. The invention of them is attributed to Ctesibius.
Fig. 1 gives a reproduction of one of these instruments as described by
Heron in his “Pneumatics.”

FIG. 1.—HYDRAULIC ORGAN.

Let Β Δ be an altar[3] of bronze containing water. Let there be in the latter an
inverted hollow hemisphere, Ε Ζ Η (called a damper), that allows the water
to pass all around its bottom, and from the top of which rise two tubes that
communicate with the interior. One of these tubes, Η Κ, is bent in the
interior and communicates with a small inverted box,[4] Ν Η, the aperture of
which is at the bottom, and the interior of which is bored out so that it may
receive a piston, Ρ Ι, which should fit very accurately so as to allow no air
to pass. To this piston is fixed a very strong rod, Τ γ, with which is
connected another rod, γ Φ, movable around a pin at γ.[5] This lever moves
upon a fixed vertical rod, Ψ Χ. Upon the bottom of the box, Ν Π, is placed
another box, Ω, which communicates with the first, and which is closed at
the upper part by a cover that contains an aperture to allow of the passage of