Latest Magic, Being original conjuring tricks
Part 2
If some small article, say a coin or ring, is laid on mat just behind the mouth of the pocket, it may be made to disappear therein, being in fact swept into the pocket in the act of apparently picking it up. In the case of a coin, the pocket may by a slight alteration of procedure be used to effect a “change”; a substitute, palmed beforehand, being exhibited in place of the one professedly picked up from the mat.
It is desirable when placing the mat upon the table for use to see that the mouth of the pocket is duly open and has not been, by any accident, pressed flat, and so closed.
The utility of the black art mat, however, does not depend upon the pocket only. Its unbroken or “plain” side, or indeed a mat wholly without pockets may also be very effectively used for vanishing purposes. In this case a little auxiliary appliance comes into play. This is a small velvet patch, serving as an “overlay.” It may be round or square, according to the purpose for which it is intended to be used. For coin-vanishing purposes it is best circular, and about two inches (or less, as the case may be) in diameter. The foundation is in this case a disc of thin card covered on both sides with velvet, in colour and texture _exactly corresponding with that of the mat_, under which conditions the patch, when laid on the mat, will be invisible. The exact similarity of the two surfaces is a point of the highest importance for black art effects, and the velvet used, if not actually silk velvet, should at least be of the silk-faced kind. Velvet which is all cotton will never give satisfactory results.
If a coin be laid on any part of the mat the performer has only (in the supposed act of picking it up) to lay the velvet patch over it to render it invisible. If it is desired to reproduce the coin, a handkerchief shown to be empty, may be laid over the patch, and a moment or two later picked up again, bringing away the overlay within it, and again revealing the coin _in statu quo_. A practical example of the use of this device will be found in the case of the trick entitled _Lost and Found_, _post_.
Another little device which will be found useful in connection with the black art mat is a cardboard disc covered as above, to one side of which a coin, say a half-crown or half-dollar, is cemented as in Fig. 10. Such a patch, laid on the mat, coin side down, will attract no notice, but the mere act of turning it over will at any given moment produce the coin. The “change” of a coin may be expected very neatly by the aid of this device. Suppose, for example, that the performer desires to retain, unknown to the spectators, possession of a marked coin just handed to him. He lays it, to all appearance, in full view upon the table, but as a matter of fact merely turns over a patch, loaded as above, already on the table, the borrowed coin remaining in his hand.
The velvet patch may also be utilised in another way for “changing” a borrowed coin. The performer, asking the loan of a marked coin, brings forward held in his left hand a velvet mat (of small size) whereon to receive it; the right hand meanwhile holding palmed against the second and third fingers the velvet patch, and between this and the hand a substitute coin of similar kind. Turning (to the left) towards his table, with the coin in full view on the mat, he (apparently) picks it up and holds it aloft with the right hand, placing the now empty mat alone on the table. What he really does is to lay the velvet patch over the borrowed coin and to pick the substitute in its place. The original lies _perdu_ on the mat, whence it is child’s play to gain possession of it at any later stage of the trick.
The process may be varied by placing the mat, after receiving the borrowed coin upon it, at once on the table, and a little later picking up the mat with the left hand, then proceeding as above indicated. The advantage of this plan is that the turn to the table to pick up the mat masks for the moment the right side of the performer and gives him a convenient opportunity to palm the coin and patch, bestowed in readiness in the _pochette_ on that side.
The same principle may be applied with appropriate modifications to card tricks. The idea of the black art mat is so completely a novelty that I have not found leisure to give it the full consideration it deserves, and have probably far from exhausted its possibilities, but I offer by way of illustration the trick next following, which it seems to me would be rather effective, particularly as an introduction to some other card trick. We will call it
A MAGICAL TRANSPOSITION
Prepare two cards, say an eight of hearts and a seven of spades, by blackening all their edges save one of the narrow ends,[4] and backing each with velvet matching the mat. Lay the two cards so treated face down with the white edge towards yourself on the mat at some little distance apart, or preferably on separate mats. Force corresponding cards on two members of the company and deliver an oration to something like the following effect:
“We hear people talk sometimes about the quickness of the hand deceiving the eye. I suppose such a thing must be possible, or nobody would have thought of it, but it seems to me that if it did anything of the kind, either the hand must be extra quick, or the eye extra slow. I know I should be afraid to attempt anything of that sort myself, but if you are a magician of the right sort you have no need to do so, for you can deceive the eye without any quickness at all. I will prove it to you by means of these two cards which have been chosen. Please give me one of them. I don’t mind which.”
We will suppose that the card handed up is the eight of hearts.
“Notice please what card this is; the eight of hearts. You can’t possibly mistake it for any other card, can you? I will turn it down here on the table. And now for the other card.” (It is held up that all may see it.) “This one, you see, is the seven of spades. No mistake about that, either! I will lay that one here.” The card is in each case laid upon the velvet-covered card of the opposite kind.
“Please don’t forget which is which. There has been no quickness of the hand so far, has there? Now I am going to make these two cards change places.” (You touch each with the wand.) “Presto, change!” (Picking up the upper and lower cards exactly one upon the other you show what was a moment previously the eight of hearts, but which now appears to be the seven of spades.) “One card has changed, you see. And now for the other.” (You show the other pair after the same fashion.) “And here we have the eight of hearts. I will now order them to change back again.” You lay both pairs again face down.
“Now I again give the cards a touch with my wand, and say ‘Right about! Change!’ and now, you see” (showing the faces of the original cards), “they have returned to their original positions.
“Now you will realise, if you think about the matter, that those two cards couldn’t in any natural way change places without your seeing them do it, neither could the one change into the other. But this is where magic comes in. What I really did was to hypnotise you a little so as to make you fancy, when I told the cards to change, that the eight of hearts was the seven of spades, and that the seven of spades was the eight of hearts. It’s quite simple, when you know it, and you can see for yourselves that the quickness of the hand has had nothing to do with the matter. For my own part I like to do things slowly; the more slowly the better, and then you can all see how it’s done.”
The trick is simple enough; but it will test the performer’s expertness as to neatness of execution. He must be careful in the first place to put each of the drawn cards as exactly as possible on the opposite velvet-backed card; and in picking up two cards together he should frame them, so to speak, between the middle finger and thumb at top and bottom, and the first and third fingers at the sides. Held in this manner they rest squarely one upon the other and there is little fear of their “duplicity” (or “duplexity”) being perceived. In the act of again turning the double card down the upper one should be partially drawn off the one below it; this facilitating the picking of it up alone a few moments later.
An illustration of the use of the same device in a somewhat different form will be found in the item next described, and in the trick entitled _“Where is it?” post_. Other ways of using it will suggest themselves to any reader of an inventive turn.
[4] Better still, thicken the under edge by the interposition between card and velvet of a slip of white card, as described in _The Detective Die, post._
THE DETECTIVE DIE
This is another of the new departures dependent upon the use of the velvet mat. Broadly stated, the effect of the trick is as follows.
One of a group of six different cards laid out in a row or rows repeatedly changes place with some other, the position which it occupies, or to which it has moved, being indicated by the cast of an ordinary die. This may be repeated any number of times.[5]
The requirements for the trick are as follows:
1. The Velvet Mat. This should be one with a plain surface, dimensions preferably eighteen inches by ten, so as to admit of the six cards being laid in one row. A smaller size, say twelve by nine, may suffice, the six cards in this case being arranged in two rows. In either case there must be a space of an inch or so between each pair.
2. Six cards of like denomination (say for the purpose of illustration six queens of diamonds), each backed with black velvet and blackened at the edges all around save at one end. Here the card is thickened by the interposition of a slip of white cardboard between itself and the velvet, so that the card as viewed from that end shall show a clearly visible white edge. Each card has all four of its corners snipped off to a microscopic extent, say a sixteenth, or less, of an inch.
3. An ordinary pack of cards one of which (in the case supposed, the queen of diamonds) bears a mark upon its back recognisable by the performer, but not conspicuous enough to be noticed by any one else.
4. An ordinary die and dice-box, or a champagne tumbler to be used in place of the latter.
5. A tray or plate, about six inches in diameter, whereon to throw the die.
6. The wand.
_Preparation._ Velvet mat on table, and laid upon it, face down in a row (or a double row, in the case of a small mat), the six velvet-backed cards. These, so laid, will be undistinguishable by spectators at a very short distance from the mat itself. Each is laid with its “white” end toward the hinder part of the table, so that this shall be visible to the performer when standing behind it. The marked queen of diamonds is laid on the top of the pack. The die and dice-box, on their tray, are laid on the mat, which may partially cover two or more of the six cards.
_Presentation._ Performer, picking up the pack of cards with his right hand, transfers it to his left, leaving the queen of diamonds palmed in the right. Picking up the tray and its contents with the right hand and advancing with it, he offers the pack to some member of the company, saying: “Will you kindly look well over this pack of cards and satisfy yourself that there is nothing exceptional about them; and when you have done so give them a thorough shuffle. And you, Sir” (handing tray and die to another spectator), “please test this die in any way your please. Throw it as many times as you like. I want you to be quite sure that it throws a different number each time, and that it is not loaded, or ‘faked’ in any way.
“I don’t like bothering people to examine things, for in most cases it is a mere waste of time. But in this case I have a special reason for asking. There is something about this pack of cards and this die which I myself don’t understand; and I shall be much obliged to anyone who will help me to do so. As a matter of fact, these cards, though quite ordinary in other respects, are afflicted with a peculiar restlessness. They change places without notice and without any apparent reason. If I were to try to play bridge with them, for instance, I should find as likely as not that my best trump had invisibly left my hand and passed over to the enemy, which would naturally upset my game and get me into trouble with my partner. The die is equally peculiar, but in another way. From some curious effect of sympathy it knows where a given card is to be found when I don’t know myself.
“The only possible explanation I can think of for their peculiarities is the fact that both cards and die were formerly the property of an old magician, and that after his death they were shut up together for some years in the same box with this wand, which also belonged to him, and that they have imbibed some of its magical qualities. I will give you a sample of their ‘eccentricities.’”
Performer takes back the cards and proceeds to force the queen of diamonds on some member of the company (a lady for choice). Leaving the drawn card for the time being in her hands, he asks a gentleman to shuffle and cut the rest of the pack and count off from the cut five indifferent cards. The card drawn by the lady is then shuffled with these, so that its position among the six shall be unknown. Performer, taking these from the holder, deals them in a row (or double row, as the case may be) upon the velvet mat, placing each exactly over one of the velvet-backed cards; the white hinder edges of these guiding him as to their positions.
“We will now consider these cards as numbered in regular order, One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six! Among them somewhere or other, is the card the lady chose. At what number it stands nobody knows (I can assure you that I don’t), but the die will tell us instantly. May I ask you, Madam, to name your card. The queen of diamonds; you say? Good! Now will the gentleman who holds the die kindly throw it. What is the number thrown? A three?” (Whatever the number happens to be.) “The die says the card stands number three. Let us see whether that is correct.”
He picks up the two cards occupying the position indicated, and shows the face of the undermost, which is of course seen to be the queen of diamonds.
“But now we come to the more remarkable feature of the case. I told you about the queer way in which the cards change places. Even in this short time I daresay the lady’s card has got tired of being number three, and has moved away to some other number. If so, the die will tell us. Throw it again, Sir, please.”
This is done, the die bringing up a new number, say “five.”
“The die declares that the card has moved, and now stands fifth. We shall soon see whether such is really the case. First, however, let us see whether it has really departed from number three.”
Performer has meanwhile replaced the two cards just lifted. He now lifts the upper one only, which (being one of the indifferent cards) shows a different face. “The queen has gone, you see. And now to ascertain whether she has really passed to number five.”
The two cards standing at that number are lifted together, and again a queen of diamonds is exhibited. The trick can of course be repeated any number of times, but it is better not to prolong it beyond a third or fourth “move.”
In picking up two cards together, in order to show the undermost, they are lifted with second finger at top, thumb at bottom and the first and third fingers at the sides. Thus “framed” so to speak, the two cards will lie squarely the one upon the other and be undistinguishable from a single card. When it is desired to lift the upper card alone, it should be nipped between the second finger at top right-hand corner and thumb at bottom left-hand corner, when it will be brought away clear without difficulty.
There is one contingency for which the performer must be prepared, namely, that the throw of the die may happen to correspond with the actual position of the card drawn. Both cards of the pair are in this case alike, and the performer cannot, at the succeeding throw, show that the drawn card is no longer in its late position. This possibility is provided for by having the back of the card marked as before explained. Should the contingency in question arise, the performer, having meanwhile noted the marked card, does not call attention to the disappearance of the queen from that number, but proceeds at once to show that it has moved to its new position. There is not the smallest fear that anyone will notice the omission.
[5] Since the description which follows was written, it has come to my knowledge that there is already on sale a trick on somewhat similar lines in point of _effect_ entitled _The Educated Die_. I need hardly say that my own trick, so far as I am concerned, is absolutely original. The advertised description of _The Educated Die_ would suit either trick, but there is little further resemblance between them.
THE DISSOLVING DICE
_To be worked on a Black Art Table_
The requisites for this trick are as under:
1. Three small billiard balls, one red, two white.
2. A white half-shell to correspond, vested or placed in a pochette.
3. Three hollow wooden dice, each of such a size as just to contain one of the balls, and lined inside with velvet to prevent “talking.” One side of each is left open, but the opening can be closed at pleasure by the insertion of a loose side with a beveled edge. When this is in position, the die appears solid. The inner surface of each of the loose sides is also covered with black velvet, so that when lying with that side upwards on a black art table it is practically invisible.
4. Three cardboard covers, fitting easily over the dice. In preparation for the trick the three balls are placed inside the dice, and these are placed on the table, open side upward, but with the loose sides inserted on top, and the covers over them.
_Presentation._ The opening “yarn” may run as follows:
“I once read a story about a man who invented a most ingenious piece of furniture of the ‘combination’ kind. It started, say, as a table, but by giving it a pull here and a push there, it became a step-ladder. Another pull and push, and it turned into a mangle, or by just turning a button or two, you could make it a clothes-horse.
“The story says that at first it was a great success, but after a little while the thing began to work too easily, and sometimes changed of its own accord when least expected, which was a drawback. It was annoying, naturally, when you were using it as a step-ladder, and hanging up a picture, to have it suddenly turn into a clothes-horse, and land you on the floor. It was vexing, too, when it was a table, and the family were seated round it at breakfast, to have it turn into a mangle, and mangle the cups and saucers.
“I shouldn’t care myself to have a piece of furniture like that: it would make life too exciting. But the story gave me an idea. It struck me what a convenience it would be, after showing one of my little experiments, to be able to turn the articles I had been using into what I wanted for the next. I haven’t got very far as yet, but I have made a beginning in a small way, and I will show you how it’s done.
“I have here three wooden dice, with a cover for each of them.” (Take off all three covers, placing each beside its own die. Then, placing one of them on the end of your wand, advance with it to the company, tacitly inviting anyone who pleases to take it off and examine it.) “I use these covers to spare the feelings of the dice at the critical moment. Like myself, they are rather bashful. They don’t mind doing the Jekyll and Hyde business, but they don’t like to be seen doing it. By the way, there is a very ancient trick (believed to have been invented by Noah in the Ark, to amuse the boys on a wet Sunday), which is worked by means of a sham die fitting over the real one. Please take my word for it that I do not use any such stale device. If I did, you may be quite sure I should not mention it. These are all three genuine dice. They are rather too large to play backgammon with, but save as to size, they are merely big brothers of the regular article. Most of you know, no doubt, that in properly made dice, the points on opposite sides always together make seven. Notice please, that each of these dice has the numbers placed correctly.” (Taking up one of the dice and turning it about.) “You see, five on this side, two on that; together, seven. Three on this side, four on that; together, seven. Six on this side, one on that; again seven.”
This is repeated, in a casual way, with the other two dice, the object being two-fold, viz.: first, by showing all six sides, to induce the belief that the dice are solid, and secondly, to enable the performer, in replacing them on the table, to turn each the other way up, so as to bring the loose side undermost. This is best done by placing the thumb on top of the die, with the first and second fingers behind it, then tilting the die over a little to the front, and slipping the two fingers underneath it. After showing it on all sides, as above mentioned, it is an easy matter to replace it with the loose side undermost, as desired.
“Now, as it happens, I have no immediate use for dice, but I want to show you a pretty little effect with billiard-balls. Naturally, the thing to be done is to change the dice into billiard-balls. It’s quite easy, if you are provided with my patent quick-change combination dice. All you need to think about is to take care to have even numbers in front.” (You turn the dice accordingly, and in so doing lift each die a little, and shift it forward a couple of inches or so, leaving the loose side undisturbed just behind it, the ball travelling forward with the die, though still covered by it.) “You don’t see why they should show even numbers? Because they would look ‘odd’ if they didn’t. Quite simple,--when you know it. Now I cover all three dice over, to spare their blushes, as I explained just now. I wave my wand over them and say, ‘Presto! Proximo! Change!’ And we shall find the dice have all turned to billiard-balls.”
The right hand lifts the first cover, pressing its sides sufficiently to lift the die within it, exposing the ball, and in bringing it down again lands it close to one of the wells of the table. The exposed ball is picked up with the left hand, and while the attention of the company is attracted in that direction, the die is allowed to slide out of its case into the well, after which the ball and cover are brought forward and handed to someone of the company.
The other two balls are now uncovered in the same way, but in this case the dice may be left in their covers, the offer of the first cover, found empty as above, having sufficiently proved that they really disappear.
“Well, we have got our three billiard-balls. Good, so far. Next, can any gentleman oblige me with the loan of a billiard table? Nobody offers: that’s unfortunate. Well, does any gentleman happen to have a cue about him. No again? Well, perhaps it would be ‘cuerious’ if any gentleman had. I beg your pardon, it slipped out unawares. It shall not occur again.
“It’s unfortunate that I can’t borrow a billiard table and a cue, because it prevents my showing you my celebrated break of ninety-three off the red with my eyes shut. When I showed it to Gray, he turned green, but that is another story. You don’t believe it? Well, I told you it was a story.
“Anyhow, as we have got the balls, we must do something with them.”
The sequel may vary, according to the fancy of the performer, and his skill in ball-conjuring. For lack of a more effective _dénouement_, the trick may be brought to a finish as follows: