Hanky Panky

THE COIN TRICK, FROM AN HIBERNIAN POINT OF VIEW.

Our brother magician, Signor Blitz, tells us the following tale, which is useful as a warning:—

While conversing in a grocery store with the proprietor, an Irishman came in to make some purchases. The trader was extremely anxious for me to astonish him by performing some feat, which I complied with. Before concluding I requested the loan of a quarter of a dollar from the Hibernian, which he at first refused, and even when the storekeeper pledged himself responsible for it, he reluctantly gave it to me. I desired him to close his hand, and hold the money secure, and I would change it into a five-dollar gold piece.

“Faith!” he muttered, as he grasped the quarter, “it is just as I would like to have ye after doing, but I don’t believe you can coin money so aisy. Let me see if you can do it!” he exclaimed.

“It is already done,” I said. “Open your hand and see.”

The man cautiously relaxed his fingers, and, at the first glimpse of the gold, jumped and hurrahed wildly, as an Irishman only can; but when his curiosity was entirely satisfied as to its reality, he carefully deposited it in his pocket, with many thanks, declaring me to be the most wonderful man in the world.

I here desired him to replace the money in my hand, and I would again convert it to the original quarter.

“Sure, afther Mike being rich, would ye make him poor again?”

“But you know it is only a trick,” I answered.

“A thrick? Divil a one! Sure, man, it is a rale piece of goold,”—thrusting his hand into his pocket to protect it from any sudden or unperceived effort on my part to extract it.

“You know it is but a joke,” I repeated. “Return me the gold, and I will astonish you by transforming it into silver once more.”

“By St. Patrick, you had better not do that.”

“Yes, you must give me back the gold.”

“I would not part with it if Priest McDermott bid me.”

Finding my efforts to procure the money a failure, I resorted to artifice by exciting his fears of my power to do good or evil. I assured him that unless he returned the piece of gold, he would be a miserable man all his life; for it was Satan’s coin, who was always in search of his own, and would take him away with the gold.

“Och, shure, yer honour, the Holy Father will save Mike, and if ye want any more silver quarters to change into goold, come to Michael MacCarty. He is the man for you.” And with these consoling words he walked rapidly away, leaving me minus my half-eagle, while the storekeeper laughed immoderately at the magician being outwitted by a son of the Emerald Isle.

All Louisville became cognizant of “the joke,” as they called it, and hugely enjoyed it at my expense; but I could not see it.

THE NEW TRICK OF MELTING MONEY.

In our former works have been given revelations by means of which the disappearance of coins can be accomplished. The present act of prestidigitation is quite new, and never before discovered by magicians to their audiences.

Performance.—A drinking-glass having been passed around amongst the audience, that the absence of mechanism may be generally manifest, Mr. Hanky Panky borrows a half-crown and a handkerchief, and pours some pure water (which may be tasted) into the glass, held by one of the company. Though this essence of the New River has no corrosive properties perceptible to the tongue, Mr. Panky confidently asseverates that it is bewitched into the power of annihilating silver.

He then places the coin in the centre of the handkerchief, and puts it over the mouth of the glass, where the volunteer holds it by its edge through the silk, so that the pendent corners hide the coin and glass.

The person is notified that Mr. Panky will count three, at the last of which numbers he is to let the piece fall into the glass, as the sound will betoken.

One, two, three, chink.

The coin is distinctly heard to fall, so that there can linger no doubt whatever of its presence in the glass.

Nevertheless, Mr. Panky, with his usual assurance, announces that—without his approaching—he has the power to attract the coin to him, and, in truth, he suddenly holds it up in plain sight. The person takes away the handkerchief, and is even more astounded than the most impressionable amongst the spectators, to see nothing but the water in the glass—of which the magician relieves him by swallowing it.

Explanation.—The bottom of the glass is of the same dimension as a half-crown. A disc of sheet-glass is cut of the same size exactly. This is substituted for the coin, and is felt within the handkerchief. When it falls, the sound is so like that of metal that all are filled with error. When the cover is removed, the water prevents the glass piece being seen at the bottom even by the operator himself.

The coin wand can be used in connection with this trick, for which see a description following.

Take two pieces of fancy paper with one side in colours, patterns, or marbling, about seven inches square, put the coloured sides together, and cut them at the same time in the shape of Fig. 7.

The success of the trick depends on their being exactly alike in size. Place a sixpence in the centre of one of the pieces at the place marked A, then fold it carefully over at the crease on the side marked B, and also again at the side marked C. When you have done this, turn down the end marked D upon the centre A and again fold over on E. You have thus formed a small parcel the shape of Fig. 8, with a sixpence in the middle. You must then put a shilling in the centre of the other piece of paper, and fold it up exactly the same size and shape as the first piece. When you have done this, paste the two parcels together at the back of the ends marked F in Fig. 8, and the sides will be so even that both will appear as one. You can then open the side of the paper containing the smaller coin, and show it to your audience, at the same time informing them that you are going to open a mint on a small plan, and coin a shilling from a sixpence. Dexterously turn over the side containing the shilling, and upon opening the paper, to the general astonishment, instead of a sixpence they will behold a shilling.

THE UNCRUSHABLE FLOWER.

At the time of the amusing warfare between the perennial Charles Mathews (“the Younger!” what happy augury in the title!) and the Great Wizard of the North, the former, who was assisted by Mr. Cremer in many of his diversions, created much surprise by the exhibition of a flower, as fragile as a rose, which could not be lastingly injured.

He would pluck this flower from his button-hole, and, in sight of the audience, who wondered “What he Would Do with It?” would dash it to the stage, stand on it, shut it up in a book, and martyrise it in various other modes.

In spite of this, he had but to take it up and tenderly wave it in the air, and gently breathe a tender sigh on it, and kiss it for its mother, when it would resume its pristine fulness of bloom—not a pistil broken, not a petal injured.

Explanation.—The flower is artificial, and carefully made of choice Berlin wool, which material will bear much ill-usage without injury to its elastic filaments.

THE FLYING COTTON REEL.

Wind off a ball of cotton cord (piping) upon a tin tube six inches long, and of the diameter of a half-crown or florin, or rather a trifle wider.

Borrow a coin which you have had marked, and change it by means of the magic salver.

Pass the marked coin off the stage to your confederate, who puts it down the tube into the ball of cotton, and leaves it there in the centre; on withdrawing the tube the hole can be completely covered up by pressing the cord around it.

Thus prepared, the ball is brought to you in a glass cup, having a hole in the rim through which you pass one end of the cotton. Fasten this to a winding-off wheel (broad-tired), and as your assistant winds off the cord, you pretend to throw the coin into the ball. Immediately, the marked piece falls into the bottom of the vessel, in which it is taken to the owner.

THE OBEDIENT SIXPENCE.

Lay a sixpence between two shillings on a table-cloth, and cover them with a tumbler, and offer to remove the middle one without touching the others or the glass. To do so scratch the cloth with the finger-nail, and the lesser coin will move out towards you, the others being held by the tumbler.

THE INVISIBLE TRANSIT.

Mr. Panky borrows a half-crown, which he politely requests some one in the party to mark, and having had a fruit examined, such as a shaddock, melon, marrow, &c., he puts it in a box.

Then holding a large cup or vase full of seed or corn, as he proves by taking a pinch out of it, and casting the grain amongst the audience, he sets it on a table.

At a word, the coin vanishes to enter the fruit. Next, the fruit is commanded to cross and bury itself in the vase filled with seed, without displacing its contents, which is assuredly remarkable. Indeed, on plunging the hand into the vessel, the fruit is produced, and in its centre is found the marked coin. The seed has disappeared.

Explanation.—The vase is of metal with a secret bottom or with a trap in the stand, by which the contents, in this case seed, will run down out of it and down through the hollow leg of the table on which it is placed. The box in which the fruit is put is that called the Box of Disappearances.

It is a case with a double drawer, into the inner of which an object is placed and both shut up; only the outer or false drawer is pulled out, and the disappearance is performed.

As for the fruit, the coin is placed in it beforehand, or introduced by means of the coin knife.

Performance.—The marked coin is passed to your agent, who pushes it into a fruit by a cut made in it while you are letting a duplicate fruit be examined. The prepared one is buried in seed in the vase which is brought in upon the stage. The second fruit is put into the disappearing box and made away with. A touch to the spring releasing the trap of the vase makes all the seed run off, and the fruit containing the coin is triumphantly opened.

THE DIE AND DOVE TRICK.

You have the double die described in The Secret Out, composed of a hollow tin case, painted like a die, and a die in solid wood.

You hold up a borrowed hat and say that you will visibly pass that die (both being as one) into the hat. Upon the crown you leave the cover and the solid cube you put inside the hat—or you say—“Now you see this die, and now you do not see it!” and pass it down on the secret shelf behind your table. Or, again, you exchange it for a hollow die holding a live bird, and opening with a sliding side.

You place this die on a plate, and, in covering it, and turning it over, open the slide, so as to have the now open face down on the plate.

You have a small cage containing another bird, on which you set a handkerchief, in the centre of which is sewn a square plate of metal of the size of a cage, at top. Your table trap takes in the cage, and you hold the handkerchief by the square plate at the proper distance from the table, so that the way the folds fall from its edge will resemble their draping the cage.

Now, say—“I shall make that die pass into the hat and this bird take its place!”

You shake the handkerchief and show that the cage has departed—a most effective illusion.

You pick up the mock die in the case, and, of course, the liberated bird flies away.

You lift the hat and push the solid die so as to make it fall.

Then you put into the hat a set of cups, Chinese lanterns, dolls, or other objects made for that purpose, to fit inside each other, and so take up little space—and express your astonishment that the owner should fill his hat with anything but brains.

THE COIN WAND.

Let your ebony wand be hollowed out at one end and bored clear through for a movable rod to work in it. In the space at the end have a half-crown cut into three pieces, thus—

with a simple mechanism worked by a spiral spring at the end of the rod, by which these three pieces, overlapping one another when drawn into the wand, unfold upon the same plane like a perfect coin when the spring is liberated.

You can by its means appear to draw a coin by the mere tap of your wand from any place whatever—the wall, a table, a person’s ear, nose, or pocket—and as often as desirable, since you pretend to remove the half-crown each time that it is shown, and actually show a real one in your hands.

You have borrowed three or four coins from the company, changed them for the ones used in your juggling, and passed them to your assistant.

Then you have as many cards drawn out of a prepared pack (see “How to force a Card,” page 43, The Secret Out.)

Your attendant brings in a wreath of flowers, which is suspended from the ceiling by two silken cords.

You lay the coin on a little glass table, and only let one piece slide off at a time.

The coin wand can be used in connection with this stand, and rings and other objects can be substituted for the coin top, set on an iron frame.

On crying out, “I now take these sovereigns and throw them into the centre of that garland!” a chink of coin is heard, and on the instant the money is seen, held by invisible means, in the wreath.

Next you stuff the cards into a pistol, and, on firing at the garland, they appear within it.

Explanation.—This magnificent trick is simply but requires electrical appliances.

The action of a battery makes the duplicate coin on the table fall into a recess in its edge, while the real ones and the chosen cards, by the same power, are thrust out from the wreath by secret wires with pincer heads.

THE BEWITCHED PICTURE FRAME.

Did you ever see such a lovely bit of Sèvres as this plate? Observe the delicacy of the tints and the dainty outlines of the floral decoration.

If I were in the musing mood, I might form quite a lecture on the scenes which this piece of porcelain conjures up: the rise of Dubarry; her downfall—Oh! the plate has slipped through my fingers, and I take it up to find it broken.

Let me see: what is smashed china fit for? I forget—but I wonder, now, if it would not make excellent wadding for a pistol! Let us try. Here is the firearm, which I will load—on the powder I put the fragments of the plate—Time severs many a beauty from her mate—Plenty of room yet. I must add these rings, with which my obliging auditors have furnished me, and this ribbon. A very formidable charge!

Boy! a target!

Call that a target?

Why, it is a black board in a frame. Never mind; it will do, unless I make a butt of you! [Exit the Attendant.]

Click! bang!

When the smoke clears away, there is seen in the middle of the framed black space the ribbon, rings, watches, or whatever was used for cartridges, and the plate restored except for one small fragment. It seems that I left a piece out of the barrel. Oh! Is it not here under this obliging young lady’s fan? I thought so; thank you.

I will throw it into its place.

One, two, three, and an off! I mean on!

You will observe that Richard is himself again—as rich and hard as ever.

Explanation.—For the appearance of the entire objects, the enchanted target described on page 194, The Secret Out, is used, with the following additional contrivance for the china plate restoration, namely:—The duplicate plate is covered, as are the other articles, with a black blind, made to disappear into the frame by an electric shock, or the action of a piston-rod, while a scrap of black cloth to be pulled away by a wire leading secretly to your assistant, gives it the semblance of a broken one.

THE GUERIDON AND GOLDEN RAIN.

By the orders of Mr. Hanky Panky, his attendant brings out before the audience a small round table (guéridon), a more guileless means of mystification being impossible, with its thin, flat top, slender leg, and general simplicity of outline.

Half a dozen florins or half-crowns being borrowed from the audience, they are marked by one of them and placed in a pile upon the table, whence they disappear one by one.

This is, perhaps, not so very astounding, for no fellah ever yet clearly understood how money goes. But, to really make the deception a startling one, Mr. Panky puts a hat, a scarf, or a handkerchief on the table, and commands the money to return from its refuge of nothingness. The half-crowns—a great deal more eager to be restored to their owners than whole crowns now-a-days are—are heard to fall upon the table, without a trace of their passage through the hat or handkerchief.

On removing the cover, indeed, the attendant has but to go to the table to fill a salver with the money, and distribute among the rightful proprietors.

Explanation.—The table-leg is hollow and a rod works in it, on the head of which the bottom coin is placed; when the rod is lowered, which is done by simple mechanism (for which see “Grand Magic,” in The Secret Out), the coins gradually vanish. The reappearance is managed by the reverse action, and the rod may be fitted with a joint a few inches from the top, so that the pieces will fall off on one side, the more noisily the better.

When the coins are to drop audibly into a metal or glass vase set on the table, the rod may terminate in a tube to contain the money.