This Week

He Picks the Right Card bY Nancy Page

Understand me, I'm not posing as an authority on dogs. I only own one. I'll admit, just between us, that he's a very ordinary dog. Sort-of a Wire-haired For Terrier. I'm not writing a treatise on dog-raising — only what I wish some one had told me six months ago. That's when Skitch arrived in the house.

He was one of those "Oh-isn't-he-cute" puppies. Everybody who saw him thought he was perfectly darling. But they didn't know!

He was the messiest, most troublesome thing. I spent what seemed like an eternity of worry . . . just because I didn't know. The only moments I spent in comparative ease-of-mind were when the pup was soundly asleep in his basket. Just as soon as he toddled out on the rug 1 became apprehensive. And I was usually right.

I used to sit and consider my plight ill contrast to the relative security of my married friends with babies. Somebody told them about diapers before the youngsters arrived. Nobody ever told me a satisfactory solution to my problem.

It was the diaper idea that saved me. I reasoned this way: Folding and pinning diapers on my fuzzy infant had disadvantages. But the theory was good. It was shortly afterward that Skitch became intimately acquainted with newspapers spread beside his basket.

At the same time and at frequent intervals, he was learning that grass and out-of-doors were more to be desired than newspapers. I didn't count the weeks, but it seemed a very short while before the newspapers were omitted.

The only reason I have a dog is for companionship. It was my idea that he. like the rest of my friends, should be good company. That is, dogs, like human friends, should give as well as get.

BookB have been written on dog training. Tricks to teach them. Ways to make them leam. Command and reward systems. Trial and error lessons. I'm going to tell about the cultural up-bringing of my dog. I hope it may help other people to make their dogs better company.

First-off, ray system is strictly amateur. It follows no principles of dog-pedagogy. It stands firmly on patience and a simple, fundamental fact: Puppies love to eat. I always worked with Skitch before mealtime. He was twice as responsive.

The common denominator of all his attainments was "Be-good-dog!" That meant sit down, but it served many more purposes than a trick. When he jumped up on people. When he got spells of tearing around and skidding on all the rugs. When I wanted his attention to give a command. "Be-good-dog!" took in everything and accomplished what was intended.

" Be-good-dog'." I'd say, pushing firmly on his rump. When his legs gave way and he was on his haunches, he'd get a scrap of food. (It doesn't take much food to make him very happy.) Very soon I didn't have to push. He'd sit.

He was still in the waddling fuzz-ball stage when he learned to zig-zag between my legs as I walked along. It makes a very spectacular show. Easy to teach.

I'd stand and call Skitch over to the right side of me, near my feet. "Be-good-dog!" Then I'd step forward with my left foot and hold a scrap of food where he could see it between my legs. The shortest distance between him and the food was between my legs. He needed no urging. Then I'd step forward with the right foot and repeat the signal on the other side with similar results. I rewarded him every time» at first. Then I'd make him zig-zag a couple of times before rewarding him. He caught on, and soon I didn't have to show him the reward to get him to zig-zag. All he needed was the legs to walk between. And that was that.

"Wipe-your-nose" was next. I spent quite a while doing what seemed to be right. But it didn't take. I'd lift his paw up to his nose with the command "Wipe-your-noae." Then I'd reward him. He got so he didn't mind my lifting his paw. He seemed to think it rather stupid. But it was all right with him as long as he got the reward. He just wouldn't lift it himself.

Then I hit on the happy idea of blowing gently in his face. He'd lift his paw to his muzzle to protect himself. When I said "Wipe-your-nose" he expected me to blow in his face. He lifted his paw. Then I rewarded him. Pretty soon I didn't have to blow. "Wipe-your-noaeP I'd say. If he didn't do it I'd sniffle. The sound of sniffling reminded him of blowing. That was all the reminder he needed. Now he does it without the command. I just sniffle, and he wipes his nose!

After that came "Which-one?" ~ done with cards. Any four cards in a row on the floor. Skitch would "Be-good-dog v in front of them. I put &

piece oi cracker on the second one from the right while I held his collar. I let him go and said, "Which one?" Naturally, he went to the second card from the right and got his reward.

Then I put the cracker under that card while I held his collar. (Always the card in that position — though it didn't matter what card.) When I released him and asked. "Which-one?" he pawed the card to get the cracker that was underneath.

The next step was to cover his eyes instead of holding his collar. He had learned to go to the right card when I took my hand away from his eyes and said, "Which-one?" Soon I could leave the cracker out of the trick. He pawed the right card — then I gave him his reward. Now I let any one select one card out of four. I put that card in the second-from-the-right position. Skitch can pick it — face down! — every time. Do you see what I mean by good company?

A dog's entertainment capacity is limited only by the ingenuity of his owner. Make it clear what you want him to do . . . then reward him when he does it. Once he learns something, he won't forget it. That's more than my teachers could ever say of me!

I LES CARTES PAR HASARD. (Stuart P. Cramer) |


Bringing his own deck, the spectator gives them a thorough mixing. Riffling the deck before his eyes, the performer asks spectator to glimpse and remember one. There is no force, the only Important thing being to make him actually see a card and keep that card In mind.

Dealing the cards into four piles, the performer picks up each in turn, fans them towards spectator so that he can get one more glimpse of the card to impress it more strongly on his mind. Each pile is cut, and all are stacked one inside of the other. In other words, pile #1 is cut, and #2 is sandwiched in before the cut is completed. This double pile is then cut for the insertion of another pile, and so on with the last. Now, for the first time, the performer looks at the card's faces. Hie mentally selected card can now be revealed by conversationally pumping, or else spectator can name oard which is immediately shown, either in performer's hand, reversed In the deck, on top, or on the bottom.

The last sentence above gives it away. You end up with four cards, one of which is bound to be the chosen card. When you riffle the deck for the "sight" selection, you open deck at about the middle. Riffle slowly as you ask him to think of some card that he sees, and ask at once if he has one.. The card must be one of the 16 cards lying from the 9th to 24th inclusive from top of deck. Deal in four piles. Fan them, I face out, cutting each pile before placing it down. From the pile which contains the chosen card, cut TWO cards from left side of fan (bottom of pile), and place on top. Now, in picking up the piles, and assembling them as described in the effect, the chosen pile is the last one; it is cut, and the rest of the deck is placed on bottom half and top replaced.

The chosen card will now be one of" four cards, either the two on top or the two on bottom. Put the bottom card in deck reversed, so as to be face up, palm off the top one, and put deck on table. Having noted them in fanning through, you are now set ,for the finish, by asking for the name of the thought of oard.


All magicians who have bought and use the addition slate Invariably do It the same way. I used it twice, up on the northern peninsula of Michigan, back in 1927, but stopped for two reasons. One was that I had personal reasons for not doing it, and the second was that everybody hopped on the band wagon when it was first sold, and made it too common.

Qr. Daley doesn't like the idea of prophesying the total, so evolved an entirely new presentation. Have four people stand. Each Is to think of a four figure number. You hold a slate and,looking at each in turn, write a line of figures on the slate, but let no one see it. Now you draw a line, and can be seen running up the columns and writing a total underneath, at the bottom. You actually write anything in the four rows, but do put down the correct total which later will be arrived at.

Now you erase, without showing, all the figures except the total, which you show. Place the slate, with total outward, where all can see it continually.

Pick up the other slate (faked), and pass to each of the four standees. Each writes his four figure number, and a fifth person adds. This person stands and calls out the total at which he has arrived, the audience being able to see and check it with the total that has been left in full view throughout.

This makes a really logical feat of mindread-lng, and your actions at the start are what you'd actually do if a thought reader. It would take a super-mathematician to get 16 figures in his mind and add them instantaneously. You are a mindreader; not a rapid addition man. In this presentation, you have gone about reading the mind of each spectator, jotting down the numbers that they, evidently, are thinking about, then very humanly and naturally adding the figures as anyone would necessarily have to do, and have arrived at the total which you put in view. The audience figures are written, added by someone else, and the total proves you right.

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