As an additional item in routine, vyhich I've worked this season, after Boko has had his drinks of ginger wine, I state he likes a smoke, so I light up a self smoking cigarette, put it in his mouth, and while he is enjoying? his smoke, I introduce a picture of his great grandfather who was also a clown (that excellent children's effect Toto The Clown). ! apologize for all the holes in Toto's face but state that the picture was very old, and the mice had got at it, in fact they had a very good feed, displaying boards all sides, saying it is full of holes and we'll put this piece of white paper between so that Toto won't catch a draught through the holes, of course Toto like Boko was a magician, etc., then produce silks and coil from mouth. Then state that Boko has finished the smoke, and finish routine, with the dance on chair, etc.
A good Time pinner is. after routine, hold a competition by getting three girls and three boys up, and as you play on the mouth organ, each girl and boy dances the puppet, and the girl and boy who win the most applause for the best operated dance of puppet, win a prize (one can get an excellent selection from Woolworth's, glass topped puzzle, girls hair slide, etc.).
I'm an Ass
I am almost crazy, I don't know who I am, my father was a widower. There was a widow lady who lived next door, she had a daughter, my father married the daughter and I married the widow and there you are, I don't know who I am. My father married the daughter and I married the widow, that makes my father my son, I am my father's father, my father's wife is my daughter, my wife is my father's mother, my sister's father's mother is my great grand-father's uncle's aunt and I am just an ass.
Max wanted a boy for the office,
To do just an odd job or two; One applicant seemed to be likely,
He was hired at two twenty two.
He started with verve, vim and vigour,
With energy pleasing to see, But slowed up to almost a standstill,
He was tired at two twenty three.
He seemed to be dwelling in dreamland, And moved like a sloth uninspired, Max thought he'd be too tired to sign for his pay,
So at two twenty four he was fired.
Where Magicians are Hated
Herbert Jenkins' corpulent figure waddled out of Mornington Railway Station. He stopped on the pavement and surveyed his hometown—it hadn't changed a bit during the two years of his absence.
A feminine voice spoke: "Excuse me, could you direct me to the Mornington Mystic Society?"
Jenkins swung round to face a slim blonde. "Mornington hasn't had a Magic Society for years," he replied tonelessly.
The girl retired, obviously confused. She didn't realize that Jenkins was the great Oriental Mystic—Sai Wen.
He turned to Hedges, his chief assistant, who had witnessed the incident. "The taxis are round the corner, Sir", the man said.
They began to walk. "Claire Nevison ruined magic here," Jenkins began, "La Belle Mystique and her phoney cards! Bah, I've no time for women!"
"Yes, Sir," Hedges said.
"That court case of hers turned people against magic," Jenkins continued bitterly. "They got the idea that we were all twisters."
"I remember a newspaper article exposing the method of her latest card levitation" Hedges observed.
"That article ruined her. She couldn't even mystify the public," Jenkins scoffed.
"What became of her?" Hedges asked.
"Can't say," his master replied, "anyway, we'll show them at the Gaytime Theatre next week that magic can stage a comeback."
Jenkins was still doubtful as he got in the taxi. There could be a Magic Society in Mornington. That chemist would tell him.
Jenkins alighted outside the chemist shop. The harsh bell whirred as he went in. A tall, lanky fellow emerged from behind a large glass case. Jenkins looked into grey watery eyes.
"My dear Jenkins!" Seymour Druggs high-pitched voice squeaked.
Jenkins pushed his Homburg to the back of his head. "What's this about the Mornington Mystic Society?" he asked the amateur magician. "A new Society," the chemist replied, "only six months old".
"It can't succeed," Jenkins ejected savagely.
The amateur disagreed. "We're hopeful," he countered "the next meeting's tomorrow night. You can see for yourself."
Jenkins considered before replying, "I'll go with you."
Druggs beamed. "The members will be honoured to see the Great Sai Wen."
Jenkins thought himself clever as he left the shop.
The Great Sai Wen surveyed an almost empty club room of the Mornington Mystic Society. Then he saw her.
"Ah, my dear lady!" Druggs squeaked.
A fan of cards miraculously appeared in Claire Nevison's small hand. "Dear Herby!" she said, "it's been ages!"
Druggs discreetly left them as Claire's cards mysteriously vanished. "Our ruse was successful." she added.
"What ruse?" Jenkins echoed, bewildered.
"Firstly, Herby dear, there is no Mornington Mystic Society," she revealed, "secondly, it was I, disguised, who asked you to direct me there, yesterday. I guessed you would see Druggs. This place is only an amateur entertainers' club."
Jenkins became uneasily suspicious. "What do you want?" he demanded harshly.
Claire eyed her victim co!dly. "Herby dear, you have been exposing magical secrets."
Jenkins was amazed. That's not true. I couldn't afford to do that."
The girl went on. "My! Have you forgotten writing that newspaper article?"
"I didn't write that!" Jenkins almost shouted.
"My ^newspaper friends disagree," the girl said, "Your article succeeded in ruining my act, Herby dear."
Jenkins sneered. "That court case ruined you," he said desperately.
(Continued on Page 76).
by VICTOR FARELLI
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