When I Turn Away Please Put This Watch In Your Pocket Do This With Every Watch I Give You Thank

The six watches are placed in the waistcoat pocket. The one on which is the message is on top.

Having obtained an assistant from the audience to help in an effect, at the conclusion take out the first watch (i.e. one with the message on it) and say: "By the way I have to watch my time, will you be good enough to do this for me?" Hand watch to assistant (with message facing him), turn away and do your next item. At the end of this, repeat watch gag with another watch. Repeat until the last watch has been given to assistant.

At the end of the next effect pick up the 'arge watch and hand to assistant saying: "NOW PUT THAT IN YOUR POCKET".

It will be obvious that this little gag is a splendid one for older children. It is specially good for a boy's school.

One 'ittle point. Don't forget to collect *he watches from the helper!



(Continued from June issue)

There was. however, much to be done during the intervening months. The passports, the American visas, and many other travelling formalities had to be seen to and completed. All these, naturally, took up a great deal of time.

Pressed for a definition of his somewhat complex theory of 'relativity', Einstein, the great scientist expounded it thus. To a person sifting upon a hot plate, minutes would seem to drag like hours but for one in company with the girl he adores, hours would fly pass like seconds.

Likewise when there is something agreeable to look forward to, time cannot be measured by its true standard and consequently it loses its correct value. Since I had been dreaming of this great moment for over thirty years, I had something tangible to wait for and, therefore, the months in front of me rolled by without my ever becoming conscious of the fact. Literally I felt in the same situation as the man seated beside the girl of his dream and for me, hours fleeted past like seconds.

When it became known by the full page announcements in the American Magic journals that I would be featured at the Abbott Cet-Together at Colon, I was inundated with letters from friends. Every letter contained a warm welcome and many went further by extending invitations to stay with them for the duration of our visit to their respective home towns.

Although I had realised at the rime that it would not be possible to avail ourselves of all invitations nevertheless the warm expression of genuine sentiments in each case indicated in advance the quality of the reception awaiting us in the New World. Subsequent events proved that our presumptions were more than justified.

However, during these months of preparation several magicians from foreign lands toured India. Many of them visited my home in Bombay. To name but two, Cecil Lyle brought over his big show and Eric Masoni with his wife came to fulfil cabaret contracts in India and Pakistan. Masoni and his wife spenr several hours at my home and we had a most enjoyable session. Cecil Lyle and Mrs. Lyle also visited our home during their season in Bombay. I was convalescing at the time and appreciated their visit very much indeed. Much against my doctor's advice I managed to slip out and see the last Lyle show in Bombay. Needless to mention I enjoyed it immensely and was thoroughly thrilled with everything I saw. I particularly loved the Artist's Dream the famous creation of David Devant—of which we read so much about and not until Lyle brought it to India did we in that part of the world have the opportunity of witnessing it.

Now besides flying, which incidentally was ruled out by financial consideration there were two other routes to choose from for the journey. The first, which was the most logical, was to travel by a direct boat the alternative being to come to London and then tranship to an Atlantic liner. The latter course being considerably cheaper was decided upon. Several months in advance we booked accommodation on the 'STRATHE-DEN' scheduled to sail from Bombay on th = 26th June, 1952.

Before we left India, the three prominent Magic Societies of Bombay viz., SOCIETY OF INDIAN MAGICIANS, INDIA RING of I.B.M., and the INDIAN MAGICIANS ACADEMY arranged special farewell parties for us at different times. I was, of course, the ruling President at that period for the first two.

When one had been sharing a common interest with others for many years it becomes very difficult to say 'good-bye'. The 26th June soon came around and many touching scenes were witnessed at Ballard Pier when aiong with my wife and daughter I walked up the gangway heavily laden with garlands in the traditional Indian custom. As I was treading towards the deck I suddenly became sharply conscious of the fact that MAGIC after all was the finest means of cultivating friendship and the thirty odd years I devoted to it yielded sufficiently in reward in that brief moment alone. I knew then that if I gor nothing else out of it I will have already received my just dues.

This being my first trip out of the country I was seized with a passionate feeling of exuberant expectancy. I felt just like the schoolboy who paid his shilling, dipped into the lucky barrel and came out with a sealed surprise package. The voyage from Bombay to Tilbury docks took exactly 18 days. Everyone of these was fraught with some kind of fresh excitement. For the first week or so we encountered bad weather. The monsoon had already burst and the Indian Ocean seemed to be raging with its seasonal violence. Strangely enough although I was warned in advance what to expect at this time of the year with all its drastic con-squences upon the person, I actually proved one of the few on board to remain completely unaffected by the hostile nature of the sea. One can really never tell what he can stand up to in crisis until put to the test.

I always nursed a desire to perform at sea. A natural opportunity presented itself during the voyage. As would happen, the Managing Director of a world renowned Tobacco concern for whom I had already done a show in India was travelling on the same ship. He tipped off the purser with the result that we were fixed up for two shows. That, I must confess, proved a unique and sensational experience. The boat rocked most of the time and it was quite a 'do' attempting the dual task of gripping the deck floor with my feet and trying to conceal things in the hands at the same time.

On the tenth day the boat anchored at Port Said. This half way halt between India and England teems with the world famous Gully-Cully man of Egypt. Everywhere along the streets they were seen accosting travellers and producing chickens from different parts of their anatomy. Much had been written about the Gully-Gully man. Those who tried to appear wise in print were unduly critical.

However, this was the first occasion I ever saw him work. I had a good opportunity of studying his technique and comparing it with that of the native magician of India I found the Gully-Gully man audacious in execution and highly subtle in misdirectional application. I enjoyed his work to such an extent that I felt I could never tire watching him repeat his repertoire again and again. I have aways admired audacity in a magician and when this ingredient is coupled with sober subtlety my estimable value of the performer enhances considerably.

Of course, the Egyptian magician is noteworthy primarily for his Cups and Balls. His style and rendering differ entirely from those of the Indian Magician. They are both brilliant in their own rigms. The climax in the Indian version of the trick is accentuated by continuous production of balls. The Gully-Gully man uses live chickens. The Indian cups are shallow and consequently will not permit the introduction of anything larger than the balls he uses. The Egyptian cups on the other hand are specially designed to facilitate the employment of chickens.

The cosmopolitan port of Marseilles was our next stop. The boat dropped anchor here for over eight hours. It was exhilarating to our senses when we set out to explore the port made famous by Alexandra Dumas. The ride on the motor launch to Chateau D'if, the prison home of the Count of Monte Cristo was not only stimulating but revived our imagination, and the experience seemed to transform into reality the tale we read so often in our younger days.

The two shows we gave on board brought us into prominence and consequently on the night of the farewell fancy dress ball I was chosen to be the chief judge for the selection of prize winners. This in itself constituted another new experience for me.

We were soon approaching the mother country of this great Commonweath. Ever since I first learnt to walk I was told of the white cliffs of Dover. Consequently I always pictured in my imagination the coast line of England as a massive cliff of chalk. We did spot it one misty morning, as a matter of fact, it was pointed out to us by a retired naval officer. There was not much chalk on the cliff when we spotted it but that did not deter us from experiencing a sense of great satisfaction as though some burning desire of our childhood days had at last been gratified.

However, we had another good reason for this inward jubilation because we knew at Tilbury docks would be waiting our elder daughter Esther who left India during the War and whom we had not seen for several years.

To catch our connecting boat from England to New York, we had to wait 18 days in London. Every minute of these days were spent in exploring as much of London as pos

A DREAM COME TRUi sible. Our eagerness to press as much as possible into the limited period at our disposal was urged by the chief belief that we would not be returning to India by the same way.

Years before we left India we were already familiar by name of course, with most of the London's famous landmarks and places of chief interest. Our first impulse was to view all of them. Buckingham Palace, Trafalgar Square with all its pigeons, the Wax Museum, Hyde Park and scores of others on our list were visited.

It was indeed a real pleasure meeting for the first time that dapper publisher and manufacturer of magic with the Hermann make-up . . . Max Andrews. Max and I were in correspondence for several years before this meeting, as he had already published some of my works in this country. We visited Max's home on the Thames on a bright sunny day. From the bank of the river we watched excursion boats pass up and down and that was certainly a pretty sight to watch.

One of the sights we would never have missed was the visit to Petticoat Lane on a Sunday morning.. This spot was already on our list before we left India. It was a real treat watching the vendors unload their wares. There is no doubt that these street merchants are real students of human psychology. They certainly know how to rouse and then sustain interest. They also have the knack of making one desire what they sell and feel that the buy is practically a gift. I could stand there and watch them pitch for hours.

However, that was not all I saw in Petticoat Lane. I saw a man drawing a crowd around him. For a moment I wondered what this man had to sell. I soon discovered that he was a magician. The man did a few tricks and then said he was going to do something which no other magician in the world can do. He got someone to tie corners of two handkerchief together. He puffed and he blew and soon dissolved the knots. "Remember" he said "I am the only one in the world who can do this trick. I am now going to sell you the secret—it's only 6d." When he concluded several people walked up with their money and started puchasing. A few minutes later the magician moved up to the side of the streer and three of his buyers (?) returned their envelopes and took back their money. Stooges . . . good work I thought. I went up to the magician and offered him half a crown. He handed me five envelopes which I asked him to retain for his other customers. I got talking to him and he promised to teach me his best trick when next we meet. I asked him what it was and he said this:

"Get someone from the audience to tie four handkerchiefs together. The knots are then sewed genuinely. The four handkerchiefs are then placed against a board and solid nails driven through the knots. I will then just wave my hands over the handkerchiefs and they will fall apart", ( promised to meet him one day and as I walked away I could not help thinking how far some people will go in their attempt to impress others.

We were booked to sail on the Cunard newest liner "CARONIA". On the morning of first August, 1952, we left from Waterloo station for Southampton to embark on the ship that was to take us across the Atlantic. Max Andrews and his two lieutenants LENZ and MAURICE BURDIN were at the station to bid us farewell.

Incidentally a year previously CARONIA made a world cruise with American passengers and was anchored outside the Bombay harbour for several days. The ship was then described by the newspapers as a 'millionaire boat'. It never ever occurred to me at the time not even as a dreamer . . . that we would travel on the very same boat some day. It was only by accident that we were forced to book on this ship. This is just one of those tricks of fate. Some people plan for years but never realise . • - others receive without planning. Just DESTINY !

(To be continued next month)

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