AMONG the many articles of daily use which have been pressed into the service of the conjurer, eggs hold a prominent place. They come and go under circumstances of equal mystery. They are found in empty bags, in the mouth of the conjurer's assistant, or the whiskers of innocent spectators. They fly from place to place, transform themselves into other objects, or give up borrowed rings from within their unbroken shells. All these, and other mysteries wherein eggs take part, have already been described in Modern Magic, but there are still so many left that they may fairly form the subject of a separate chapter.
First and foremost I may mention:
THE EGG MADE TO SINK OR SWIM AT COMMAND.
This is the outcome of a scientific principle.
A cylindrical glass vessel, filled with water, stands on the performer's table. Producing three eggs, either by magical means as already mentioned, or by the more prosaic expedient of bringing them openly forward, he makes a few remarks about the specific gravity of things in general and eggs in particular, and the fact (for a fact it is, though few of the audience probably have put it to the test), that an egg sinks in water. By his magic power, however, he claims to have overcome this sinking tendency, and to make eggs float at pleasure. Giving the audience their choice of the three eggs exhibited, he takes the one selected, and gently lays it on the surface of the water. It forthwith begins to sink, but when it is half-way down, or thereabouts, he waves his wand over the glass vase. "Stop," he says, and the egg forthwith ceases to sink, and remains suspended in the centre of the vase. When all are satisfied that there is really no deception, he remarks: "It is all done by the power of the magic wand. I will now break the spell. All that is necessary is to pass the wand round the egg, so." He passes the wand vertically round the egg in the water. "That breaks the charm. The magnetic fluid is dispersed, and the egg sinks," which it does accordingly. The vessel is handed to the company for examination, and any one is at liberty to try the experiment for himself. The egg is the same, and the water is the same, but the charm is effectually broken. The egg persistently goes to the bottom.
The secret lies in the fact that an egg, though specifically heavier than fresh water, is lighter than strong salt water, and will consequently float therein. The vessel is in the first instance half filled with salt water. It is then slowly filled up, with the aid of a funnel (so as not to disturb the brine), with fresh water. The fresh water will now lie on the top of the salt, and if an egg be lowered with due precaution into the vessel, it will sink to the bottom of the fresh water, but come to a standstill on the surface of the salt water. The performer times his command accordingly. When he desires to break the spell, the moving of the wand round the egg mixes the fresh and salt water; and the combined fluid being of lower specific gravity than the original brine, the egg sinks.
The exact strength of the salt solution should be ascertained by experiments. If it is found that the egg still floats in the mixed fluid the proportion of salt may be slightly reduced, or the proportion of salt to fresh water may be diminished, the egg of course sinking to a correspondingly lower point in the first instance.
TO BALANCE AN EGG ON A TABLE.
The heroic method of Columbus will be familiar to all readers, but many will no doubt be surprised to hear that by means of a little artifice an unbroken egg may be made to stand upright. The difficulty of doing so with an unprepared egg is that the yolk, which is relatively heavier than the rest of the contents, is held suspended near the centre, and constantly shifting, makes the egg top-heavy in one or another direction. If however the egg be well shaken beforehand, so as to break up the yolk, the centre of gravity of the contents is lowered, and the egg may be balanced on its larger end.
The method is almost as simple as that of Columbus, and I venture to think, decidedly neater. But what will the reader say to a still more abstruse problem, viz. ―
TO BALANCE AN EGG ON THE END OF A STRAW.
A plate of eggs is offered for selection; likewise a bundle of straws, of the kind sold at bonnet-shops as "gophering" straws, good strong straws, cut square, free from bruise or split, and about eight inches in length; but quite free from preparation of any kind. The eggs are equally unprepared; but, nevertheless, a given egg and a given straw having been selected, the performer forthwith balances the egg, end upwards, on the straw, and carries it, so balanced, from side to side of the stage. Another straw, or another egg, may be substituted at pleasure, but the result is still the same.
The secret lies in the use of a minute piece of apparatus, a little ivory cup (so shallow as to be almost flat), the thickness of an egg-shell, and the size of a sixpence. From the centre of this cup, on the convex side, projects a little stem, half-an-inch long, and the thickness of a pencil-lead (see Fig. 98). It will be readily seen that by dropping this stem into the upper end of the straw, the two will form a support upon which an egg can be very easily balanced. The magic of the trick will lie in the deftness with which the cup and the straw are made one, and the address with which the presence of the little cup is concealed. The first desideratum is best effected by adapting the cup to the end of the egg, and then (under cover of the fingers which hold the two together), inserting the stem into the upper end of the upright straw. To meet the second point, special care should be devoted to the selection of the eggs used, each of which should be of such a curve, at its larger end, as exactly to fit the concavity of the cup. If due attention be given to this point, the cup will be, at a very short distance, invisible.
TO SPIN AN EGG ON END.
This, like the two fore-going, is hardly to be regarded as an independent trick, but as a little addendum to some more important trick in which an egg is used.
The performer challenges the company to spin an egg, offering them an egg, and a plate or tray wherewith to try the experiment. They may try, but they will not succeed; the fact being that the feat, with an unprepared egg, is impossible. When the performer desires himself to exhibit the feat, he secretly substitutes, for the raw egg first shown, one which has been boiled hard. This may be spun on its larger end with the finger and thumb, and by giving the tray a
revolving motion in its own plane in the opposite direction to that of the egg, the latter may be kept spinning as long as the performer pleases.
TO PRODUCE EGGS FROM AN EMPTY HANDKERCHIEF.
There are two methods of performing this trick.
The one is merely a new version of the "Egg-bag" trick described at page 326 of Modern Magic. The supposed "handkerchief" is really two handkerchiefs sewn together at the edges, with a row of little pockets, similar to those that figure in the "bag," arranged mouth downwards, along one of its sides, which for distinction's sake we will call a.
The parallel side we will call d, see Fig. 99, and the two sides at right angles to these, b and c respectively. The stitching which connects the two handkerchiefs goes right round, with the
exception of about four inches at the centre of each of the sides b and c. An opening is thus left at each side, giving access to the space between.
To make use of the handkerchief, the row of pockets is beforehand filled with blown or dummy eggs, after the manner of the pockets in the egg-bag. As the pockets lie along one side only, and within a couple of inches of the edge, the handkerchief will stand a good deal of crumpling and shaking about without revealing their presence. The performer carelessly shows both sides of the handkerchief, throws it in the air, &c. When all are convinced that there is nothing particular about it, he folds it so that the edges a and d shall come together, thus forming a shallow bag half the depth of the original handkerchief. Taking two of the joined corners in his teeth, and the two opposite corners at arm's length in his left hand, he runs the other hand rapidly along the upper edge, and squeezes an egg out of its pocket. It falls into the space between the two handkerchiefs, and by sloping these slightly to right or left, it may be made to run out at the corresponding side, apparently out of the "bag" made by folding the handkerchief, but really out of the space between, through one of the openings already mentioned. Again he spreads the handkerchief, shows first one side and then the other; again folds it, and produces another egg; and so on, till the full tale has been produced.
The effects may be heightened by drawing the sleeves up to the elbow, to prove that they have no concern in the production of the eggs, and when all have been produced, the handkerchief may be deftly exchanged for another, to be casually left in the way of inspection. A folded handkerchief, or other soft substance, should be laid on the table to receive the eggs as they are poured out, in order to prevent risk of breakage. It should, however, be mentioned that eggs specially prepared for tricks of this class are procurable at the conjuring depots; the egg, after having been duly blown, is coated internally with a hard white cement. Eggs thus prepared, though very much lighter than ordinary eggs, will stand a good deal of rough treat-ment without injury.
In the other version of this trick, the handkerchief (in this case usually of silk) is prepared in a still simpler manner.
Distinguishing the four sides of the square as before, by the letters a, b, c, d, an egg, prepared as above, is attached by a piece of fine black silk thread to the centre of the side a. The length of the thread is just one half that of such side, so that if the handkerchief be held taut by the two corners of a, the egg will hang down just below its centre, or it may at pleasure be concealed in the hand which holds the one or the other corner. Things are in this latter con-dition when the handkerchief is first shown to the audience. The egg is palmed in the right hand, which holds one corner of a, while the left hand holds the other. One side of the handkerchief having been shown, the hands are crossed so as to show the opposite side. This done, and the hands brought back to their original position, the egg is released from the palm, when it naturally falls behind the handkerchief. A slight "drop" of the hands at the same moment will prevent its swinging too far, and showing itself beyond the opposite edge.
Having shown the handkerchief thus apparently empty, the performer says that he is going to try to get a few eggs from it, and that, to show there is "no deception," he will pour them direct from the handkerchief into a gentleman's hat, which he has just previously borrowed, and which stands on the table.
Transferring the corner held by the right hand to his mouth, and holding it with his teeth, he slides the right hand along the handkerchief to the centre of a, and folds the handkerchief vertically down the centre. The suspended egg, of course, hangs in the fold. He then transfers the right hand to the joined corners of a, and the left hand to the joined corners of d, and tilts the sort of bag thus made into a horizontal position above the hat. Sloping it a little further so that the corners of d shall be the highest, the egg rolls out of the fold on the side a, and falls into the hat, the length of the thread allowing it ample fall.
Now comes a movement which is not very easy to explain, but which it is essential that the reader should understand, as it is in truth the back-bone of the trick.
The hand which held the two corners of d, releases them, and travels towards the corners of a.
It seizes the outermost of such corners, and the two hands once more draw a taut. The effect of this movement is to spread the handkerchief with its broadside to the spectators, and at the same time to lift the suspended egg from the hat (which is for the moment screened by the handkerchief), to its old position in the rear. Again the handkerchief is folded and again the egg produced; and this may be repeated as often as the performer pleases; attention being specially called to the fact that his hands remain all the while empty, and that they approach nothing from which the eggs could possibly be obtained.
When all is over, the thread may be broken, and the handkerchief carelessly handed for inspection.
Some performers refine still further on the method above described, by having the egg in the first instance independent of the handkerchief. The silk thread is employed as in the former case, but is not at the outset attached to the handkerchief. Its free end terminates in a very small black pin bent into a hook. The egg lies under the waistband, or just inside the front of the vest, the pin being lightly hooked to the vest at a few inches distance, so as to be readily get-at-able. The handkerchief, being in this case entirely unprepared, may be freely handed for examination. When it is returned, the pin is artfully hooked on to it at the right point, and the trick proceeds as already described.
It is as well to place a borrowed handkerchief in the hat beforehand, ostensibly to break the "
fall " of the egg, which otherwise, if unprepared, would naturally be smashed.
The trick may either terminate by showing that the hat, although so many eggs have been poured into it, still remains empty; or by producing from it three, four, or more eggs secretly loaded into it beforehand. This will mainly depend on the consideration whether the performer requires a supply of eggs for the purpose of some other trick.
The cooking of a cake in The Welsh Rabbit Saucepan (Modern Magic, p. 313), forms a very popular sequel before a juvenile audience, and a good deal of fun may be got out of it.
Perhaps I cannot better conclude this chapter than by quoting the "patter" which I have myself been accustomed to use (with variations) for this particular combination, incidentally introducing the feat of the egg balanced on a straw.
The necessary preparations are as under
On Table. Red silk handkerchief with egg attached.
In an ordinary tumbler, two or three dozen "straws," and, hidden behind the tumbler, the little ivory cup.
Welsh Rabbit Saucepan, loaded with a hot cake. Within the sheath portion (marked d in Fig.
151 of Modern Magic), a dummy handkerchief stained with yolk of egg, and moistened with spirit. Lid on, but tilted, as shown in Modern Magic, Fig. 151.
Tray with small portions of flour, sugar, spice, and currants. Pistol with loaded powder, and lighted candle.
On Servante, three genuine eggs (in a black silk bag or black paper), and the broken shells of four others, stained with yolk, and packed one inside another. Small piece of cambric burnt into holes.
These matters duly arranged, the performer begins:
"You may possibly have read in the papers, ladies and gentlemen, that Mr. Edison is engaged on an invention for producing chickens without eggs. He is still a little bothered over some of the details, so I can't show you his process, but I will show you another little invention for producing eggs without hens. The old way of doing this was with a bag, and the performer had a hen up his sleeve. It's easier to do it that way, but not so scientific; besides which, it involves deception, to which I have a conscientious objection. If a gentleman will lend me a tall hat, I will show you how the thing really ought to be done.
"This is my egg-producing apparatus: an ordinary red silk handkerchief." (Show, carelessly holding egg palmed.)
"I used to borrow a handkerchief, but I found that plan got me into difficulties. Once I borrowed a handkerchief from a gentleman with a cold, and when the chickens were hatched, they all had colds, and I had to provide them with pocket-handkerchiefs. Another time the gentleman who lent me the handkerchief took snuff, and the poor little chickens were born sneezing, and nearly sneezed their heads off. So now I always use a handkerchief of my own.
“I still borrow a hat to hold the eggs; in fact in this case I prefer to borrow, because if an egg should happen to smash, it makes rather a mess, and it's better to have it in some one else's hat than your own. Will some lady lend me a pocket-handkerchief, by the way? Thank you!
I'll just put this in the crown of the hat, and then, if an egg should smash, the handkerchief will save the hat a little."
(In placing the handkerchief in the hat load in the broken egg-shells from the servante.)
"Notice the simplicity of the process. First I show you the one side of the handkerchief. Then I show you the other side. Please observe, by the way, that I am perfectly empty-handed."
(The egg having, a moment before, been let fall from the palm, the hands can now be shown empty.) "But now observe, I just breathe on the centre of the handkerchief, and that makes all the difference. I fold it in half, tilt it, so, and out rolls an egg. Again I fold it, slope it as before, and out rolls another egg ― I'm afraid that one has smashed" (glance into hat). "No, it's all right, it has only spoilt the handkerchief. Again, another! That one wasn't quite so
(The egg having, a moment before, been let fall from the palm, the hands can now be shown empty.) "But now observe, I just breathe on the centre of the handkerchief, and that makes all the difference. I fold it in half, tilt it, so, and out rolls an egg. Again I fold it, slope it as before, and out rolls another egg ― I'm afraid that one has smashed" (glance into hat). "No, it's all right, it has only spoilt the handkerchief. Again, another! That one wasn't quite so