Mr. Panky brings forward a cage in which are two birds, perched on
different branches of a tree, which sing, one the first part, the other
the second, of a piece of music, which would hardly let anyone to
believe them live birds trained to so exquisite a degree.
But when their bodies are found to be covered with shells, and their
eyes made of precious stones, that illusion cannot for a moment be
entertained. And yet it is unreasonable that mechanism should impel
their action, when they are seen to spring from one bough to another,
while perfectly detached from the cage itself.
The smallness of their size, and the multiplicity and variety of their
movements, preclude the supposition of their tiny bodies being the cases
of clockwork.
_Explanation._—The birds are really attached by wires of communication.
Their perches, on which they alternately alight, join at one end so as
to form an angle of forty-five degrees. The birds are in no wise
attached to either of them, but at the outer extremity of fine tubes—the
other end being on a joint at the place of junction of the two
perches—which tubes contain the fine wires which open the bill and
wings. The outer point carries the bird, in each case, along the line of
an arc of forty-five degrees. It passes so quickly through the air that
a forewarned spectator would hardly perceive it; but as the exchange of
position is made when attention is diverted by Mr. Panky, no clue is
given.
This movement is a great improvement on the ordinary twin singing-birds
of the conjurors, which simply stand on a cross-handled perch, or fixed
tube, through which the wires pass.