At an early period of my magical career, I devised a trick to which I
gave the name of _Concatenation Extraordinary_, and which will be found
described in _Later Magic_, page 94. In effect it consisted of the
magical welding of a number of loose iron links into a continuous chain.
It was performed by the aid of a Black Art table, a bottomless tumbler,
and a silk thread. “Though I say it that shouldn’t,” it was an ingenious
trick, and I was very proud of it. Unfortunately, some good natured
friend (I rather think it was Mr. David Devant) pointed out to me that
about ninety-five per cent of my ingenuity was wasted, inasmuch as the
same effect, so far as the spectator was concerned, could be produced
by infinitely simpler means, viz.:--by using a glass with double mirror
partition, when all the other paraphernalia became unnecessary. You had
only to load the hinder compartment with the complete chain, and after a
due amount of “talkee-talkee,” drop the loose links into the forward one,
turn the glass round, and the deed was done.
The trick, as a trick, was just as good in its new shape as before,
but being at that time (comparatively) young and foolish, its extreme
simplicity spoilt it for me, and I lost all interest in it. Not long
since, however, I was reminded of it by coming across the chain and links
which had figured in my performance of the trick, and it struck me that,
in a slightly modified form, it may still be worth the attention of the
drawing-room conjurer.
The requirements for the trick in this, its latest form, are as follows:
First, the mirror glass; and as to this I may note in passing that the
“mirror” is best made of tin-plate, not too highly polished, in place of
the looking-glass plate which was, until a quite recent period, generally
employed for the purpose.
Secondly, a length of small iron chain, made up of twenty-six links,
connected in the centre by a twenty-seventh link of brass.
Thirdly, two shorter lengths of similar chain, consisting of thirteen
links each, and a loose brass link, corresponding to the one in the
centre of the longer chain. The complete chain is to be placed at the
outset in the hinder compartment of the mirror glass, which should be of
such a size that the chain nearly fills it.
Lastly will be needed a bottle containing Eau de Cologne, of which a few
drops have been poured on the chain in the glass.
The patter may run to something like the following effect.
“You are doubtless aware, ladies and gentlemen, that electricity is now
largely employed in the welding of metals. Of course to produce such
a result on a large scale, such as welding guns, enormous strength of
current is required; amounting in fact to millions of ampères, or volts,
or ohms, or watts. I blush to confess I don’t know which is which, but
it’s of no consequence. If I had ever so many ampères, or the rest of it,
I shouldn’t know what to do with them. I am only able to manufacture my
electricity on a very small scale, but with the aid of a little magic, I
get very good results.
“You are also no doubt aware that when certain metals, particularly
copper and zinc, are brought into close connection, an electrical current
is set up between them. The same thing applies, in a less degree, to
iron and brass, as I hope to be able to show you.
“I have here two short lengths of iron chain. Will somebody be kind
enough to count the links? You will find, I think, that there are exactly
thirteen in each. Please notice this, because, in some mysterious way, it
has something to do with the success of my experiment. You know thirteen
is an unlucky number, and the chains themselves don’t like to consist of
that number of links, and if they can alter it, they try to do so. I am
going to give them the opportunity, with a little electrical assistance.
Thirteen, as I have said, is an unlucky number, and twice thirteen makes
twenty-six, which is not much better, but if you add one more, you get
twenty-seven, which is a very lucky number indeed. Everybody knows that
three is a lucky number. Three times three are nine, which of course
must be luckier still, and three times nine are twenty-seven, which is
naturally best of all.
“Now I am going to give these two chains an opportunity to convert
themselves into that lucky number, by taking in this extra link, which
as you perceive is brass, an opposition metal. Observe, I drop one of
the chains into this glass. See that I do so fairly. Then I drop in the
single link, and lastly, the other piece of chain. And now, in order to
set up an electrical reaction, I add just a few drops from this bottle of
Eau de Cologne. As a matter of fact, a little salt and water would have
the same effect, but I use Eau de Cologne because it smells nicer. And
now I must ask the loan of some lady’s handkerchief, to cover the glass,
and concentrate the electric current.”
Holding the handkerchief in right hand, pick up the glass with left hand,
and raise it a few inches from the table. In lowering it, cover it with
the handkerchief, and at the same time give it the necessary half-turn.
Take out your watch, and make believe to time the operation, remarking,
“I find it needs a full half-minute, to allow the charm to work. Time!
Let us see how we have succeeded.”
Take off the handkerchief, and draw the chain slowly out of the glass.
“Yes. All is well. I should say welded, and I trust you will say, ‘Well
done.’ The chain is complete, and now consists of twenty-seven links, the
lucky number. Perhaps some gentleman will verify the fact.
“I must tell you frankly that I don’t guarantee the correctness of my
explanation. I can’t say exactly how much the electricity has to do with
it. I only know that if you go to work the right way, which means, do
as I do, you get the result, and there you are. This experiment always
provokes a lot of discussion. The other evening one gentleman said it
was done this way. A lady said it was that way, and a sharp boy (the
younger they are the more they know) was quite sure it was done another
way altogether. But they were all wrong. It is done just the way I have
shown you, and if you do as I do, and say as I say, you will no doubt
produce the same result.[7] If you don’t, well, you will be no use as a
conjurer, and you had better go into some other business.”
Some less instructed reader may possibly enquire, “But why the Eau de
Cologne? What does that do?” Precisely nothing, and therein lies its
virtue. As indicated in the section on “patter” (_post_) it often happens
that some little bit of spoof, supererogatory in reality so far as the
spectator is concerned, is accepted as covering the real key to the
puzzle. This is a case in point. Taking it for granted that the Eau de
Cologne would not be used without _some_ reason, the spectator sets to
work to discover that reason, and so gets farther from the real solution.
[7] This last bit of patter is a plagiarism from somebody or other, I
rather think the late Dr. Lynn.