PREFACE

As a life-long member of the Society

for the Suppression of the Abnormal

Use of the Personal Pronoun, readers

will readily understand how difficult it

will be for me to refer to myself in this

book. Unfortunately I shall have to, but

I will not prolong the reference more

than is absolutely necessary.

The incidents recorded in this book are

arranged in no particular order for

more reasons than one. To be quite

candid, my study is any odd space I can

plank my typewriter on in the work-

shop. Besides the general noise associ-

ated with a workshop, one youthful

partner sings sweetly whilst she works.

You would not have me stop her,

would you? My other partner has a

penchant for whistling operatic airs.

The weather is decidedlv warm, so

street noises are on the Free List. Of

course there is the night. It is very quiet

then; but my typewriter makes a noise

like a Maxim Gun working overtime.

All that, and the fact that I am not rely-

ing on books to get a living, prevents

the threading of the incidents. Yet who will care? No-one. Provided the facts are accurate, then we

can dispense with such un-nteresting things as order and dates.

I have but two objects in view whilst writing this book. The first is to interest. The second, if possi-

ble, is to amuse.

So I will cut the prattle, and start right away.

2

FORTY YEARS IN & AROUND MAGIC.

I am a genuine Cockney. Millions of people have been born in London but few can say they were

born within hearing distance of the bells of Bow Church in Cheapside. Yet what an inheritance!

Anyone born in that area is born weak; so weak that they cannot hold a bunch of aitches, but keep

dropping them all over the place. Their grammar is listless, and their infinitives horribly split. It is

not a fair start. Anyone born in Ireland, Scotland, or even Lancashire, start with a brogue strong

enough to force their way through almost any difficulty; but a Cockney. Well, what I would like to

see is a Society formed for the Prevention of the Birth of Cockneys. Many humorous writers would

starve to death in consequence, but once gone would never be missed.

MY FIRST TRICK. I was born in 1874, but to be perfectly candid I do not remember much about,

it. I spent an uneventful life until about the age of eight years, when I was taken to the Borough Road

School Rooms (a school connected with St. Georges Church, Boro.) to see a Conjurer. Only one

trick left an impression on my grey matter, and that was the burning of three pieces of tissue paper,

and the production of a lot of small flags. A few months elapsed, and then a neighbour took me for

an outing to Clapham Common. He started to throw money into the lake, and later showed me the

small stone hidden beneath the coin. Afterwards I practiced the move, and that became my first

trick. Then I wanted more.

MESSRS HAMLEYS. Somehow I found Messrs. Hamleys shop in Holborn. The shop is no

longer there. The site is now occupied by Drage, of Furnish Drages Way fame.) Almost every

Saturday morning found me pondering over their window display, and selecting a trick correspond-

ing in price to the money in my possession. I was such a small boy the salesman used to come round

the counter, and would kneel when he mystified me with such tricks as The Multiplying Corks, etc.

A MINSTREL. Slowly I gathered together a suflicient number of small tricks to give an entertain-

ment suitable for parties, but my time for practice was very limited on account of my father having

me taught the violin. At the age of 10 years I was playing in public, at Concerts, etc. At 12 years I

was a member of the Black Eagle Minstrels, and on Sundays I was a paid choir boy at St. Marys-

at-Hill, Love Lane, Eastcheap. The Black Eagle Minstrels were a second-rate Troupe, and only

worked Halls in and around London. Minstrel Troupes were all the rage then. The Moore & Bur-

gess were at Piccadilly, and the Mowbawks at the Agricultural Hall. I was in the Orchestra, and the

largest place we ever performed in was the Peoples Palace, Mile End. When I think of the smallest

Halls we worked, I still shudder. Some were of the free and easy type air full of smoke, and

floor covered in spit. There was not a lot of money hanging to the business, but I was always sur-

prised at the fairness of the share out. Many of us travelled in the cart that moved our proscenium,

scenes, props, and baskets, to save fares. The majority of the Troupe had some kind of work they

could do during the day, but some relied entirely on their share of the Troupes earnings. I have

many times seen them sub a penny, and buy a small loaf of bread, which they have eaten with relish;

and not many minutes afterwards they have been making the audience rock with laughter at refer-

ences to their cook being careless, and singeing the wish-bone of a chicken, and other gags associ-

ated with good living.

3

The life taught me one thing and that was to recognize gold when I saw it. Just glitter would never

fool me.

Although I only played the violin in the Troupe, my interest in Magic was always keen. I tried out

many tricks on the men in the Troupe, and got many tricks in return, for they all seemed to know at

least one.

I kept going to school fairly regular, but was often tired after the night work. I might add that the Act

for preventing children under the age of 14 from performing was not then in vogue, and we could do

just what we liked.

Mr. GEORGE MUNRO. Then early in August, 1888, the Head Master at the school I was attend-

ing called me to his desk. An application has been made to me by the Edison Phonograph Co: who

require a junior clerk. It seems to present great possibilities, and as you are now leaving school, I

thought you might care to apply for the situation. You will ask for a Mr. George Munro; and, by the

way, wear trousers. Later in the day I walked into the Edison Offices at 181 Queen Victoria Street.

The interview with Mr. Munro is of sufficient interest to detail, and went as follows:-

Can you speak French?

(Mon Dieu. Je ne pane pas Anglais.)

No, Sir.

Can you write Shorthand?

No, Sir.

Can you operate the Typewriter?

No, Sir.

Do you understand Book-keeping?

No, Sir.

By that time my eyes began to look towards the door, for I always like to see where I am going; but

the next question altered the whole situation, and got me one. Let me see your handwriting. I

wrote. That will do. The wages are 5/- per week. Can you commence on Wednesday? I com-

menced on Wednesday, and the first thing I did was to take Mr. Munros hat to be ironed, des-

patched a telegram, and then cleaned the Typewriter. Oh, what wonderful possibilities. Anyhow, I

was surprised to find that Munro could not speak French; that the Typewriter was a great novelty

only just on the market; that the Book-keeping consisted chiefly of entries of Office expenses and

petty cash, and the Phonograph was intended to displace shorthand writers. All the same, that even-

ing I signed on at an Evening School for three classes:- French, Shorthand, and Book-keeping. I

meant to hold the job.

4

PROFESSOR DONN. It was at 181 Q. V. St. that I first met Mr. Henry Donn. He was connected

with a Mission to Deep Sea Fishermen, which had its offices on the same floor.

COLONEL GOURAUD. The head of the Phonograph Co. was a Colonel Gouraud - Colonel in the

American Army. He was a very big man, and one day after I had climbed on to a stool, and was in-

dexing the Letter Book, he towered over me and told me I should be dismissed instantly if I failed to

do the work correctly. Can you imagine a small weedy boy of 14 having the wind put up him by a

huge man who had commanded part of an Army. Of course I found out later that the gentleman was

not exactly right to our way of thinking. When his wife died, the papers were full of the funeral that

took place Brighton way. The Colonel said it was not a time to mourn; so he had white horses, col-

oured clothes, and got the whole affair up in almost Carnival style. Another time he wanted to pay

his Income Tax in American money, and other funny stunts.

EDISON HOUSE. We did not stay long at

181, but soon moved to a more pretentious

building in Northumberland Avenue. It was

immediately named Edison House, and

was situated right opposite the Hotel Metro-

pole. The first thing the Colonel ordered was

a Flag Staff. Laying in the glitter the pole

looked half the length of the Avenue. When it

was erected it looked like a short clothes

prop. We had an old man named Flynn who

did odd jobs, and he was told to hoist the Un-

ion Jack. It was too much for him to tackle

alone, so he came down and asked me to help

him. Rather. Well, I held the end of the flag

so that it should not pull some chimney pots

off and the old man started to hoist. All of a

sudden the wind bellied the flag out, and I

was lifted off my feet, flopped over the cop-

ing with nothing but the street under me, and

flopped back again. Then I released my hold.

Poor old Flynn did look sick. I decided after

that experience to leave flag flying alone, and

keep to kites.

The Colonel was a great man for shouting,

especially down the staircase. We did not

know who, but someone had died, and he

yelled for the flag to be flown at half mast.

The roar was all very indistinct, and I seemed

to be the only one who could hear him, and

explained to Flynn that that the flag was to

flown at half past. Flynn waited until the half

5

hour was nearly due, and then pulled the flag to the top of the pole. Goodness what a commotion.

About this time I got to hear a very great secret. Mr. Munro had married a Miss Galley who was

Mistress of the Infant Section of the School I had attended.

Colonel Gouraud had the American trait of go-ahead, and he issued an order that every man, boy,

woman or girl in the building should have a thorough knowledge of Electricity and General Me-

chanics. The first to kick was the wife of the Housekeeper. Eventually the Classes were confined to

all the males, and it does not require much imagination to conjure up a class composed of the heads

of the firm, mechanics, packers clerks, office boys, messenger boys, and doorkeeper. The Chief

Electrician (Mr. F. C. B. Cole) was a brainy man, and he caused much discomfort by suddenly call-

ing up on members of the class to explain what he had lectured upon. On one occasion he put the

following question to the class:- What is a curve? As he pointed to individuals they shook their

heads, and at last he pointed to me. I rose, and answered:- A curve, Sir, is a straight line bent.

There was much commotion, and the class ended abruptly. In a few minutes I was called to the

Board Room. A Major Sangster wanted to tell me something, and he told me. He was not at all am-

biguous, and what he said would want a lot of packing in a nut shell, even of the species Coco; but

boiled down it meant that I had to quickly mend my ways, or make way for someone else who had

not such a distorted idea of humour. As he had not dismissed me, I assumed he did not want me to

leave; but I was quite a quiet lad for the rest of the day.

Then a few days later I thought I should really have to sever my connection with the Edison Co. The

Colonel had a son named Jack, and he was home from College. He was about 18 years of age, and a

fairly tall youth. In the afternoon he got some money out of the Colonel, and went down to Holywell

Street, and bought a rifle. When he returned we were about to close the offices. Then he drawled:- I

say, Leat. Will you stay and put up some targets for me. The gun interested me, and I agreed. The

basement was very long so we went. down there. I scored a target on some thick wood, and away he

went. Within two minutes he was tired of it. Then he told me to get some wax cylinders. I hesitated.

Its all right, Leat: The guvenor will not mind. I got some wax records that were cracked. As fast

as I could stand them up he shot them to pieces. When the cracked ones gave out, I had to get good

ones. If I remember rightly the plain wax cylinders cost us 10d. each. He potted hundreds. The

housekeeper came and looked at us once or twice, but dare not say a word. Jack told me to fire the ri-

fle, and I did. Then somehow I caught the fever of smashing something, and then I understood how

he was thoroughly enjoying himself.

Tiring of the basement, we went into the workshops. Every cylinder that was visible he shot to

pieces. Then he aimed at the opal gas globes. Once he wanted to fire at me. Then all of a sudden I got

really frightened at the look of the place, for it was simply wrecked. So I went home. Then, so the

housekeeper related, Jack proceeded to the Board Room, and shot all the glass out of the picture

frames, and did other damage. From room to room he went, and only stopped when his 1,000 box of

slugs were used. Once again I was on the carpet, and questioned severely; but I was in a fairly safe

position. As it was the Colonels son, it had simply got to be hushed up.

Mrs. Gouraud had a room fitted where she could paint tapestries. I got very interested in it, and

watching points I used to go into the room and paint when she was out. The colours would be

ready just as she had left them in her hurry to dine, or go home; and I have stayed many hours in

6

the evening, with the door locked painting her unfinished tapestry. I was always waiting for a com-

plaint that someone was tampering with her artistic work, for on one occasion I did as much as three

square feet. Maybe she did not remember where she left off.

MAGIC. Then one day, to my great delight, I found some tricks in a cupboard. Some I knew, but

what I did not I soon worked out. As the weeks went by, the stock grew. I knew the tricks belonged

to Mr. Munro, but it would have been a liberty to talk about his private goods unless he had men-

tioned them which he did not. I can hardly describe the pleasure that cupboard gave me. There

were tricks that I had longed to buy; and as I could handle them in the evenings, they seemed as

good as mine. A five guinea box of card tricks made its appearance one week. I was late home for

many nights afterwards. Then one day Mr. Munro went to the cupboard, and took some of the tricks

out. He wrapped them in paper, and then called me. He wanted me to lock them away in the Store

Room. I longed to tell him I was interested in Magic; but he never unfroze sufficiently, and we went

along a little more as employer and employee. The space made in the cupboard he soon filled up

with more tricks, and I do not believe he had any idea I overhauled them. I never injured them, and I

left them exactly as I found them.

Then one day he was looking at a trick behind a book and tutted because he did not cotton to the

method of working. I had already had a look at it, and knew the secret. I simply had to do it, so I

made some excuse of going to his desk, and then offered to explain the working. For the moment I

thought I had put my foot into it, for he quickly said:- What do you know about Magic? I showed

him. Then he sent me back to my desk, and no more was said for some weeks. Then one day I saw

him hooking a penny on to his coat; and he casually said:- Dont think much of it. Now he had

only just bought it, whereas I bad been working one for years; so I offered to work it. That hooked

penny broke down the barrier. I got him interested, and then went on with the Travelling Penny. I

followed that up with a few crude sleights with unprepared coins, and we had a very pleasant hour.

Then back to business, and no more said.

MAURICE GARLAND. Then quite a time passed before one day Mr. Munro came back from

lunch with a gentleman, and asked me to show him my coin work. I had no idea who he was, so did

not worry in the least. I went through my little run of coin work, and as I did so the smile broadened

on his face. When I had finished he just nodded his head.

Then I went on working, but wondered who he could be. He was good looking, immaculately

dressed, and had a splendid carriage. Waiting my opportunity, I asked who be was, and was told that

he was Maurice Garland, one of the leading Society entertainers. Then I felt that I had been made to

look foolish, but did not say so.

Maurice Garland called many times, for he often lunched with Mr. Munro. Then one day Mr.

Munro said:- There must be a lot of profit on Magical Apparatus. May I be forgiven for my youth-

ful ignorance, for I replied:- There must be. Then he explained that he was thinking of going into

the business, aud would get the workmen on the premises to make certain tricks which he would ad-

vertise. Now, the Edison Companys workmen were no fools, but they made an unholy mess of

many lines they attempted. Shell pennies they quickly refused to make, pleading that they could not

afford to pay for the spoils. Then we found out what thousands of people do not know to-day, and

that was that if you want proper conjuring tricks you must go to the mechanics who specialize in

7

them. A man may be a marvellous mechanic, but unless he has a thorough knowledge of Magic, and

a real liking for it, he will never turn out good apparatus. It stands to reason that a real mechanic has

been taught to make things the right way. Magical Apparatus is not made the right way, and there

the trouble commences. Again, the sale of tricks is so limited that there is no possibility of mass pro-

duction. I have heard men, who should know better, talk of factories for the production of Magical

Apparatus. Because an article was stamped in a Press, instead of being spun on a lathe, would not

increase the sales. A Factory would stamp. The jobbing mechanic who makes tricks would spin it.

Factory would close down, whereas the jobbing mechanics would continue to get a living even if

it was an uncertain one. Can anyone point to a man or Depot who has made real money in the manu-

facture of Conjuring Tricks? I cannot, but I can tell of many who have lost it. More than one real

Performer has possessed the idea that he paid through the nose for his apparatus and Illusions, and

so much so th at he has invested his savings in a Magical business as a short cut to wealth, and then

quickly lost the thousands of pounds he had saved by working the Halls as a Magician. This is not

just so much talk. It would be unfair to publish any names, but if anyone has any doubts I would like

to have a chat with them for a few minutes. If anyone knows the business thoroughly, they can get a

living sometimes doing well, sometimes doing bad but never making a fortune, or anything

that could be classed as big.

Well to come back to the Edison men, they were a complete failure. Then we went outside. We

asked firms to quote, and they did in grosses, whereas we only required three, six or at the most a

dozen. The firms turned the jobs down, because the orders were so small. Slowly our eyes were

opened to the real position of the business, and we started to look for the workmen who made for the

existing Conjuring Depots. When we found them we discovered that none of them owned their own

carriage. We also advertised for mechanics from the Edison House address, but when they found

what the work was, they would have nothing to do with it.

PHIL DAVIS. One man saw the advertisment, and jumped at it thinking he would have a chance

to work out some of Edisons ideas. That man was Phil Davis. He dressed himself up, and strolled

into the Hall complete with patent leather shoes, silk hat, frock coat, etc, etc. After the necessary in-

troduction, Mr. Munro kicked right off with:- Can you make this?, and showed him a Cannon

Ball from Hat. Davis nearly had a fit. Here was a man who had received a College education, held a

B. S. Degree, and all the rest of it, asked if he could solder cistern balls, and add a sliding section.

Davis was a curious fellow, and after examining the article very carefully, he said:- Yes, - I - think

- I -could - make - them. Then could you let us have 6 this week. Is - that - all. Yes, for the

time being. Good - day, - Mr. - Munro. When he got out into Northumberland Avenue, he after-

wards admitted he felt dazed. It was not exactly what he expected. In a dreamy sort of way he made

for home via the Charing Cross Road. Opposite St. Martins Church a Recruiting Sergeant looked

at him and thinking he was a young nut at a loose end, said:- Are you going to, my lad? Davis

paused, and replied:- I - do - not -mind - if - I - do. So off they started towards the old Barracks at

the back of the National Picture Gallery but at the corner Davis made for the Garrick Public House.

The Recruiting Sergeant thought he wanted a drink before joining up, so went in with him. Then he

started asking him what Regiment he would like to join. Then the fun started. Davis, in his slow

speech, explained that the Sergeant had said nothing about joining up. What he had said was:- Are

you going to?, and as he was going to have a drink, he had no objection to the Sergeant joining in

with him.

8

Davis delivered the Cannon Balls, receiving about 10 shillings and then received an order for 1

dozen Rabbit Saucepans. It was a real joke to see him deliver them. Each in a piece of newspaper,

and all tied together. How the paper tore off, and how they rattled, can be best left to the imagination

of the reader. Then Davis retired gracefully, having quickly grasped the fact that there was nothing

in it. A few years after, Davis turned up again. I shall come to that later.

All this groping in the dark took time and money. Personally I was having a go a time going around

with the Professors who demonstrated the Phonograph. We did the National Sunday League Con-

certs, had side-shows at Olympia, the Royal Aquarium, and dozens of other places.

GERMAN EXHIBITION. I got permission to leave the Office, and worked for five months at the

German Exhibition, Earls Court. It was tiring work. 10 a.m. to 10 p.m., wages 1 per week, but it

was a splendid experience. In those days, a man who could manipulate a Phonograph was called an

Expert. He had to be. Well, then were three of us, and the other two did not care a jot if they an-

swered questions or not. One was unfortunately ill, and the other, too superior to talk to a man (or

woman) who paid a shilling to come in and listen to the Phonograph. Consequently I was the only

one who was willing to impart any information, and to be perfectly candid, I did so because I found

it paid. I was never short of pocket money and cigars; had many invitations to visit the Buffet, made

friends, and generally got on very well.

We never had any liking for the Germans even in the old days, so you can imagine our joy when we

witnessed the following incident. The German Band was ordered to meet the Kaiser, who was com-

ing to visit the Exhibition. Something went wrong, and the Band missed the train. The little Con-

ductor (who wore a sword as big as himself) cried like a child, and started to pull his hair out. I have

never seen anything so funny. I know it was a case of God help the fellow when he returned to Ger-

many; but one can get bald ever so quick without tearing it out.

I saw the Kaiser at close quarters aud the only impression he gave me was just bluff. His eyes

were restless, and his moustache very fierce; but it would take more than a few hairs on a mans lip to

put tbe wind up an Englishman, so his get-up could be considered extremely foolish.

EUGENE SANDOW. Sandow had an Exhibition next door to our Lecture Hall, and needless to

say I was interested. I bought his apparatus, and soon became a strong, but not silent, youth. General

Physical Culture should be the first thing for anyone to seek. After that a straight left and a right

hook, together with a few moves of Jiu-jitsu, and you can walk around Without any fear of molesta-

tion.

PROFESSOR FIELD. At the Royal Aquarium we had a sideshow, but it was not exactly a suc-

cess. Consequently I had time to wander round the place quite a lot. The first person I got to know

was Professor Field. I had to make my own introduction, and it was not easy, for the simple reason

he prefered to talk to paying customers. Another gentleman who interested me a lot was Professor

Cross, the Phrenologist. I had my bumps felt in public at the Aquarium. Later I met him when tour-

ing, for he made a turn of his bump feeling, and it proved a very amusing Act.

9

I think it was at this time that I first met Carlton. He was touting for Zaeos Garden, and I really

thought more of his chat than I did of the Garden Illusion. The Illusion was pretty enough, but Carl-

ton could gag.

Later I saw him working a sideshow, where he challenged people to Cover the Spot.

A few years later, business again took me to the Aquarium, where I met at different times, Rigollo,

Playfair, Professor Dent, and many others. They used to give a one hour show, three times a day.

What a life. Many country folks would get into the Aquarium directly it opened at about l0 a.m., and

stay until after 11 p.m. They would then get three hours of Magic, with possibly an Illusion per-

formed twice on the Central Stage. When these country audiences were in number, the performer

tried to alter each hours show; but it was a difficult thing to do satisfactorily, for it meant leaving

out of the second and third performances really good tricks that were certain to please, and substi-

tute less popular ones. And for all that, the pay was 30 shillings to 2 per week.

HERR FRITZ. Just before the Aquarium closed, Herr Fritz (father of William Henshall, or Leo

Fritz ) had a long run there. He told me he saved money, so some of the turns must have been in re-

ceipt of a fair salary, in spite of the fact that the Aquarium was humorously refered to as The Work-

house. When I look back, I really think the Aquarium saved many from the real Workhouse, for it

was one of the many places a Conjurer could scrape a few shillings together. To-day these places do

not exist.

SULPHURIC ACID. Small beginnings sometimes have large endings, as the following incident

will show. Mr. Munro suddenly conceived the idea of installing an Ice Cream machine where he

lived at Gunnersbury. He sent me to Bond Street to see the machine operated. They explained it

thoroughly and left it at that. The idea was to create a vacuum above the liquid to be frozen, and then

allow the fumes of Sulphuric Acid to enter. Well, the pumping required to procure real ice was

enough to make a person sweat blood. All the same, it went to Gunnersbury. Then a carboy of Sul-

phuric Acid was wanted. We had many carboys at Edison House, but it was not an article that gen-

eral carriers would take. I mentioned our requirements to our American Carriers, Messrs Staveley

& Starr, and their Carmen took the carboy to their Shaftesbury Avenue Depot. Their idea then was

to send it by a special van. This happened on the Thursday before a Good Friday. We packed up at

the Office early, and did not return until the following Tuesday, quite unconscious of an awful trag-

edy. A messenger from Staveleys was waiting, and he had been trying to find one of us all through

the holidays. It appeared that the special van was all ready and the man started to roll the carboy of

Sulphuric Acid towards the door. In doing so, he struck it against the corner of the large weighing

machine. Thirty-six gallons of commercial Sulphuric Acid were released all over the shop. It filled

the carmens boots, and presently he was screaming with pain, and was taken to the hospital. Pande-

monium ensued, for the acid quickly worked its way through the cracks in the floor, and dripped on

the store room beneath. Men working there looked up, and got burnt about the face as the drips of

Acid touched their skin. Other mens feet got burnt, and no-one knew what to do. They got a chem-

ist, and he told them to soak it up with whitening, which they did; but the trouble was to get enough

of it quickly.

Well, I got to their shop, and shall never forget the scene. It appears that they had just had a large

consignment of Munyons Remedies over from America, and the acid was eating the corks out of

10

the bottles. Munyons English Agent was there viewing the damage, and I was introduced to him.

Not much in that, but his name happened to be Dr. Crippen. He was afterwards hung for murdering

his wife, Bella Elmore, a variety artist. Crippens arrest was accomplished by the aid of wireless,

the first criminal to be arrested by that means. We all acclaimed it a wonderful thing. Now most

Conjurers are cursing wireless, as it is a temporary rival to Magic.

PRESS BAZAAR. I was fortunate enough to he with the Phonograph at the famous Press Bazaar at

the Hotel Cecil, and had the honour of speaking to Queen Alexandria. We had a side-show at the

Panorama of the Battle of Waterloo, which was shown in Astley Place off Victoria Street. Hercat

was also there, and his two chief items were Wool turning to Hot Coffee, which he handed round,

and his famous Illusion She. He seemed quite an old man then, but he lived on, and I had many

chats with him afterwards. We once clashed in Walworth Workhouse, but I dropped most of my

tricks and kept to the Juggling. He went well with the Linking Rings, and the Dyeing Handkerchief

trick.

H. HINKS MARTIN. Whilst at the Edison Co., I chummed up with a young man named Hinks

Martin, He was exceedingly clever, and a splendid Lecturer. He also did a Female Impersonation

Act, and we often got on the same bill at the smalls and Concert work. In those days I used to ask 10

shillings for my Juggling and Conjuring turn, but have often gone for half-a crown if the distance

was easy. The idea was to take what you could get, for often profitable engagements were obtained

through going for just the train fare in the first instance.

I christened him Jimmy, and we got along exceedingly well together. One day he poked his head

into my office, and said, Do you know how to work the Cinematograph? I imumediately replied

Yes. Then meet to-night, and away he went.

CINEMATOGRAPH. Now the Cinematograph had made its first appearance in London on the

previous evening, and all I knew about it was what I had read about it in technical papers. Yet I had a

good knowledge of Lantern work, and was a skilled Limelight manipulator. How I got that knowl-

edge was amusing. One of our Engineers was named C. R. Johnstone, and he was always willing to

help. So Mr. Munro soon enlisted his services to work the Lantern and Limelight effects when he

was interested in Tableaux Vivants at the Chiswich Town Hall near Gunnersbury. One day John-

stone wished he could get out of the evening work, for he wanted to meet someone; and he turned to

me and said, You could work this if I taught you. Will you go? I jumped at the opportunity, and

the same night I was working a Limelight, and small Electric Lamps for effects. Johnstone after-

wards explained to me the working of every Limelight jet, and Electric Arc Lamp on the market,

with the result that I could go around and work anybodys outfit in Hall or Theatre.

When I met Jimmy after office hours, he suggested we should take up the Cinematograph right out

of its cradle. Messrs Paul, Electrical Apparatus Makers, had just taken the manufacture up, and to

them we went. The machines shown in London were Lumiers of Paris, but Paul was quickly off the

mark with an English make, and away we went as partners under the names Somerset & Alberto.

I kept to my Juggling name, whilst Jimmy used Somerset the county in which he was born. As

Jimmy had financed the business to a greater extent than myself, his name took precedence. Both of

us were hustlers to the extent that we booked engagements before we had actually got the machine.

Anyhow, our first engagement was at the Windsor Castle Music hall, Woolwich; and we worked in

11

a Saturday Night Popular at the Chelsea Town Hall the same week. We quickly got our money

back, and then drew equal shares of the profits. I do not want to go into details, but our kick off con-

sisted of 10 Films, each about 40 ft. long, and the actual showing time would consecuently be 10

minutes; but with Jimmy as Lecturer we had no difficulty in making the show last 20 minutes. I im-

proved the machine as we gained experience, and added to our films.

I JOIN GARLAND. Then Garland asked where we were working, for he wanted to see the show.

Afterwards he made a proposition. He explained that he was unable to give an entertainment lasting

the whole evening. He could only do Conjuring, and if it had to last over the hour, the best of audi-

ences got a little tired. Would I join him, and then he could book more engagements? He knew I was

tied to the Edison Co. during the day, but could always get away through the kindness of Mr.

Munro. So he undertook to do all the Agent work, and see to all the bookings so that all would be

quite clear for me, and I would only have to do the actual show. As another incentive to join him, he

explained that he was quite friendly with Mr. Archie Maskelyne, and Mr. Facer, and would he al-

lowed to purchase films from them after they had run a week or two at the Egyptian Hall. So we

shook hands on the new combine, and did wonderfully well. Garlands bookings increased to a sur-

prising extent, for I altered the machine so that I could work in any Drawing Room without disturb-

ing anybody or anything, and the combined shows made a novel and complete entertainment. The

partnership with Garland lasted for many years, and as the arrangemnent was that his bookings

should come before any we might procure, it will be readily seen that Jimmy could not hustle after

engagements. There was then no need; but we shared right up to the day we sold the business up.

Jimmy seldon took an active part in the shows, for whenever I wanted any help he sent his brother-

in-law, Alex Paterson. Needless to say he was Scotch, but a very happy man, and a man I was al-

ways pleased to meet. He had his little growls at times, but I think his life was made brighter when

he accompanied me on difficult shows, and I am positive a smile oftimes flits across his face when

he recalls the numerous journies together. One of my jocular methods of whiling away the time on a

railway journey used to cause him pain. For instance, say we were in a train coming from Kent. It

would stop at Woolwich, but the moment it had started, I would immediately enquire if it stopped at

New Cross. It didnt and I knew it didnt; but when they informed me that it would not stop before it

reached London Bridge, I would indulge in a little acting. I would let my bottom jaw drop, and go

all limp. The passengers would get interested, and then I would patter to them. Goodness, our

wives are waiting for us there. We have been away nine months. It wouldnt matter so much if it

wasnt for the kiddies having to hang about the cold station. My wife has got five all under eight

years, and his wife has four. And so I used to pile on the agony, and I could see them picturing in

their minds two women with nine children, waiting for us at New Cross, (or at any other station on

any other line I cared to work the joke.) I am a fair judge of human nature, and I used to watch for the

man who inwardly enjoyed our predicament; and you would be surprised at the number of folks

who enjoy seeing others in trouble. Then I would address myself entirely to him, and so get the at-

tention of the remaining passengers direct on him. It is curious how quickly some of these men get

flustered when they are being looked at, or hear their own voice in public; and I would ply him with

all manner of funny questions. They were not fair or straight questions, and consequently the man

looked foolish when he endeavoured to answer; but never for one moment would anyone think I

was leg pulling. I was in too much distress. Yet all the while poor Alex had to sit with a sorrowful

look on his face, or bury it in his handkerchief to smother a laugh when I sprung a new gag.

12

On many occasions I would be too busy to change at the office, and would wait until I got into the

train. As I then had the happy knack of being able to gag without grinning, I always got through with

the joke; and having a fair knowledge of time-tables I never got let down when working them. I

would look at the person next to me, or anyone else in the carriage, and say:- I trust you will not

think me indecent if I change my collar? The reply would invariably be Not at all. Then I would

commence taking off my coats, and go on gagging. Why I mentioned it is because someone once

objected to me turning the carriage into a dressing room. Very narrow minded of them. That is

exactly what I thought. By that time I would have removed my collar, and would be pulling my

shirt over my head, all the time pattering:- It isnt as though I would have a bath, and splash them.

By this time the other occupants would be most interested in watching me change my shirt, and you

can imagine their surprise when they saw on my undershirt short sums in addition or division writ-

ten in indelible pencil. If anyone laughed I would look surprised and hurt, and again trust I was not

being indecent. Oh no, thats all right, and they would give me every encouragement to proceed. I

generally followed on by eulogizing the new or clean shirt. Hope Brothers. Seven and six. Do you

know, I always go there. Yes. They fit me so well. And so I used to get them guessing whether I

was simple, or of a confiding nature.

Of course there is always more than one side to practical joking. On arriving at one country place I

proceeded to prepare; and took little notice of much laughter that came from one side of the room.

Presently a lady came to me, and said:- You are from Harrods Stores. I do not know your name.

My name, Madam, is Leat. I hear you are rather good at figures. Sufficiently to keep my ac-

counts in order. Well, if you entertain my guests this evening as you did my husband in the train

this afternoon, we shall be perfectly satisfied. Good Lord! Then I wondered if they would report

my fooling side-line, but all was well.

It was a joyful life, and I was overflowing with high spirits. Garland was also a practical joker, and

when we were together there was much fun. One night, on a little country station platform, I

climbed on to Garlands shoulders, and put the clock forward. Then we went to the Stationers

house, and complained about. the train being late. At first he disputed it, but when. we pointed to the

clock he apologized. He happened to be a gentleman.

I often wonder how many Porters have cursed when they have removed the mats out of the Waiting

Rooms. Garland got a lot of fun out of the Rabbit Saucepan, or Cake in the Hat trick. He used many

eggs, but never got rid of them at the place of entertainment, When we got to the Station he would

hold the mat up whilst he shook out the eggs, egg shells, candle fat, flour, currants: and half burnt

match box. Oh! what a find for the Porter.

Garlands great gag in the railway carriage was to get out his note book and pencil, and start writing.

Most people are inquisitive, and many would quietly watch him. The pencil was of the hypnotic

make, with the bent needle at its base. He was expert at attaching this to his palm, and would then

lay back as if trying to remember something. His left hand would hold the book on his knee, and one

finger would slowly tap it to attract attention. His right, hand would rest with its back on the right

knee, and to everyones astonishment the pencil would slowly rise. The effect was uncanny, spe-

cially when worked under artificial light, for the passengers were not expecting a trick, and doubted

their own eyesight.

13

Another stunt we got up to used to impress the other passengers immensely. We had a fair number

of counterfeit sovereigns and Roterberg coins. We used to play cards unobtrusively, and call any-

thing from a shilling to 10. We both knew how much genuine money we started with, and these

would be the coins we would purposely drop or leave openly on the newspaper. I know they often

thought that Fools and their money soon part. but we adjusted money matters in private. It was in-

deed impressive, for one of us would often lose 50 to 100 in quite a few calls. We worked this

stunt very quietly, yet sufficiently obvious to anyone who was intent on watching.

GARLANDS LIFE. As Garland and I got intimate, so he talked of his relations and friends. He

was born and lived at Plumstead. He went to an ordinary school, and when he left he did ordinary

odd jobs that some lads do to help bring in a few shillings. Then his father died, and his mother mar-

ried again. That caused Maurice to join the Guards. Many times he had to do sentry-go outside

Buckingham Palace. Although Army life was not exactly easy, he still found time to continue prac-

tising Magic, which he had dabbled in when he was a boy. He gave entertainments in the Barracks,

and oftimes got permission to show outside. It was at one of these outside entertainments that a Mr.

Crook saw him perform, and afterwards spoke to him. Mr. Crook was Secretary or Manager of

Messrs Cramers Pianoforte shop in Oxford Street, and was a perfect gentleman. The outcome of

their conversation resulted in Garland being bought out of the Army; and he lived for many years

with Mr. Crook; and it was him that Garland thanked for his progress. Mr. Crook corrected his

speech, grammar, manners, deportment, and a hundred and one other things that go towards the

making of an outwardly perfect gentleman. No matter where they were, whether at meals, walking

to business, or spending a social hour together, Mr. Crook was always imparting knowledge and ad-

vice. The result was surprising, for Garland could eventually discourse on any subject in a wonder-

fully intelligent manner. Yet always in the bone was the original Maurice Garland, and he would be

the first to mention it. During the many years we were associated, we only quarrelled twice. The

first dispute was patched up. The second caused me to leave him. We will come to that later on.

THE POLYTECHNIC. For certain reasons I am deeply interested in the Polytechnic, Regent

Street; but my mind always goes back to the old Poly. It was a great show place, and they engaged a

Phonograph for a series of evenings. I was fortunate enough to be the operator sent. Whilst working

and explaining the machines, two gentlemen informed me they were making a Phonograph for their

private amusement, and I gave them material help. These gentlemen were Mr. George Howarth

(undoubtedly the worlds greatest flute maker,) and Mr. Beyer, the engraver. The meeting was

thirty years ago, but the friendship has lasted ever since.

Before my exhibition there, I saw many conjuring shows in the Poly, but I had no programmes, and

have no idea of the performers names. Monsieur C. de Vere. of Paris tells me that at that time he

gave many Lantern and Conjuring entertainments there, but it would be sheer guess work to try and

remember him even supposing I had seen him perform. He told me that once he arrived there and

found his Oxygen bag quite empty; but they laughed at his trouble, and immediately made all the

gas he wanted. The Poly was, and is, a most wonderful Institution; and my one regret is that I was

never associated with it as an actual member.

BRUXELLES. Mr. Munro sent me to the Belgian Capital to work the Phonograph Patents there. I

visited the Palais dEte, or Pole du Nord Music Hall, and enjoyed a show that was new to me in

many respects.

14

THE OLD PLAYGOERS CLUB. Munro claims to have been established since 1889. I joined

him in l888, so the year he states would be right. Of course the actual business was very meagre, and

was done chiefly through advertisements in the Bazaar, Exchange & Mart. Later Munro joined the

Old Playgoers Club, over Gattis Restaurant (by the side of the Adelphi Theatre) and worked the

business from there. I kept the appointments, and sold a fair amount of apparatus in the Club Room.

That might have continue indefinitely had they not passed a rule that the Club must not be used for

business purposes. Then something had to be done, and we got together in a real business idea. Mr.

Munro proposed borrowing 200 from his brothers in Scotland, and would risk opening a depot if I

would resign from the Edison Co. and run it for him. I did not hesitate a second when he told me that

I would have complete charge, and had great faith in my ability to establish the depot, and run it suc-

cessfully.

DUKE STREET. There was an empty room to let at No. 4, Duke Street, Adelphi; and we went

round and had a look at it. No time was lost, and we signed the Agreement. Then the business com-

menced. I built the counter, cupboards, show cases, shelves, and goodness knows what else. The

only ready made articles we bought were two chairs, and a roll top desk. The Scotch cheque arrived,

but Parrs Bank immediately deducted 10 for changing it. Only 190 was placed to our credit, and

that kind of grieved me. I do not think that 5 per cent deduction happens now.

I gathered in the stock from Edison House, and made the best display I could with it; but it was up-

hill work at the beginning. The money was quickly spent, and I was left entirely to my own re-

sources. Yet I kept going. When I took money. I spent it carefully. When there was no money I just

had to go without. To have failed would have made me feel that I had robbed Munro. He helped in

the evening when he could, and in a while we turned the corner.

Someone else was watching the business grow, and he was Maurice Garland. When we went to

shows together I confided in him, and told him my ambitions I wanted to run a Monthly Magazine

on Magic, and had it all drafted out. I intended calling it THE WIZARD, and reckoned that it

would boom business, and attract the Conjurers up to the Depot. I kept one drawer for all papers re-

ferring to it, and these he eventually looked through. I intended the first number to start with David

Devants photograph on it, for I considered him (at that time) to be our leading magician. John Mas-

kelyne, and his sons, I considered as showmen never having had the pleasure of seeing them per-

form a single sleight-of-hand trick. I told him Mr. Munro was perfectly willing, for me to start the

monthly, but was not in a position to give me any assistance. I had accumulated many tricks, but

doubted my ability to become a journalist even if I had the time, and conduct the paper cor-

rectly. Then I wanted to form a Society of Magicians, all for the interests of Mr. Munro. I had but

one object, and that was to make the business of Ornums a success. Then Garland asked a very per-

tinent question:- How does the business stand financially? I told him. Look here. Couldnt you

get me into the business. I dont like to ask George myself. I could show the tricks to the customers

better than you could, and that would give you more time at the desk. I could help you with The

Wizard, for I know all the leading performers. I could get them interested in your suggested Society.

I could make this business pay. Gee; I wag pleased. Here was an intimate friend we could both

trust, and he would bring the help for me to realize my various ambitions. So I soon explained to Mr.

Munro, and he agreed to us all meeting. We met, and talked it all over; then terms were arranged.

Garland was to give his services for six months, and then become a level partner. Right. That set-

tled, let us get on with the business.

15

Well, in due time the Agreement was made out, and Garland arrived. We immediately started to talk

of the Wizard. I told him I intended bringing it out the following month, and would he go right away

and interview Devant. Before he could reply a customer came in and I retained my seat, thinking

Garland would do the needful; but he said:- Will you attend, Harry. So I served. Afterwards I

asked him why he would not serve, and he told me that he did not want the dud customers saying he

was behind the counter. He would serve the best professionals. Well, they do not buy, so that was

not likely to be of any use. Then he backed out of seeing Devant, for he did not like the idea of going

about as a reporter. Down came all my plans with a crash. Here was the man who talked big, and

who was going to help so much, just sitting on a seat. To say that I was disappointed hardly ex-

pressed my feelings. I was disgusted. Then Garland tried to save the situation by going behind my

back. He went round to Munro, and suggested they held their business conferences without my

presence. How did I know? Well, I could hardly get it from a more reliable source than Munro him-

self. Well; they met, and discussed one or two matters. The same evening I was privately informed

of all that had been said. The next day Garland came again to the Office in a very domineering man-

ner, and told me what had been decided should be done. Righto; do it. No, not I. You are to do it,

Harry. Then he had one of the biggest dressings down he ever had in his life. Look here, Garland.

Ill waste no time with you. You came in promising a lot, and now you have started the old Sergeant

Major you thought you would like to be when you were in the Army. Then I repeated something,

which opened his eyes to the fact that Mr. Munro must have been talking to me; and that prevented

him from making a further fool of himself. Then he asked how we stood, and I told him. First of all,

I will take no instructions from you, and immediately I see Mr. Munro I am tendering my resigna-

tion. He thought a little, and said, That means that I am to go. Exactly. He went out, but was

soon back. Look here, Harry. Everybody knows I have joined the firm and it will look strange if I

am only here for two or three days. You can hang around, but do not interfere. I have no wish to

hurt you. Then he asked how we stood with the private shows; and I told him that he could break

that off as well, and let Jimmy get back to the bookings; but that would have been fatal to Garland

so by offering me better terms I stayed on with him in the private partnership.

THE HISTORY OF THE MAGIC WAND. Mr. George Johnson has published a two-penny his-

tory of the Magic Wand, and in it he writes:- There are many who will recall the debonnaire

Maurice Garland, ever ready with the latest move, who for some time managed the concern for

Mr. Munro. Maurice Garland never managed the concern for one second. He came in as a partner,

immediately showed his incompetence or dislike for the work wanted to be done; and was then al-

lowed to hang around the premises on sufferance, just to save people from talking.

THE FIRST SOCIETY OF MAGICIANS. There was one thing he helped in (which was in-

tended to benefit the firm of Ornums, but was not connected with it in any way) and that was the

first Society of Magicians. This was one of my projects before he joined the firm, and as he was

hanging around he just interested some Magicians in the idea. The Society was formed, and we had

one Dinner and Concert. Then the whole thing fizzled out on account of lack of ability to conduct it

properly. The only man who could be thanked for his efforts to keep the Society going was Mr. Fred

Culpit; but through getting no support from Garland and the other members, he declined to go on.

Should Mr. Johnson re-write his History of the Magic Wand., he can make use of the following in-

formation:- No one managed Ornums business except H. L.

16

ENEMIES. Needless to say, in business a man has always one or two enemies and it was highly

amusing to see them approach Garland or Munro and put in a bad word for me. Garland was help-

less, but Munro came and told me what was said, and who had said it.

EXIT GARLAND. So Garland loitered around after he was a partner, much the same as he did be-

fore, but often stayed away for days and weeks; and when he eventually left, no one seemed to no-

tice it. All through I liked Garland, in spite of him trying to ride the high horse. In fact we were

better friends after the business dispute that we were before, and we worked more engagements to-

gether.

THE WIZARD IS PUBLISHED. Some years passed, and I got the business on to a sufficiently

strong footing to enable Mr. Munro give up his other interests and come solid into the Magic game.

Then I immediately brought up the matter of The Wizard, but even Mr. Munro did not care to be-

come Editor. Then we found that Selbit would take the job on for about 15/ per week. Selbits name

being used as Editor led to a lot of confusion, for it made some folks think that the paper belonged to

him. Nothing of the kind. The paper belonged to Mr. Munro, and Selbit was a paid employee; other-

wise Selbit would hardly have sued Munro for wrongful dismissal when he required his services no

longer.

No mention is made of the Founders name in George Johnsons History of the Magic Wand, even

though he wrote it after Mr. Munro had written to him, giving him certain facts, which were pub-

lished in the November 1919 issue of The Magic Wand. To save any possible argument I give the

letter in full.

To the Editor of the Magic Wand.

Sir,

With reference to your brief, but interesting, resume in the September issue of the

early history of the Wizard and the Magic Wand, permit me to point out so as to

avoid any misapprehension on the part of your readers not already acquainted with

the facts as to the founder of the Wizard, that the same distinction should be ac-

corded as to the founding of that now defunct magical magazine that you are good

enough to record as to the founding of the Magic Wand. The suggestion of the title

The Wizard emanated from Mr. H.A. Leat and the literary matter was ably

conducted for many years by what I can only describe as a born magical journalist,

Mr. P.T. Selbit.

Geo M. Munro.

No matter whether the History of the Magic Wand is a twopenny or a penny one, let the History part

be correct, if at all possible. Mr. G. Munro was the founder of the Wizard, and as such is entitled to

recognition in any History. The Editor is small fry compared with the Founder or owner, for it is a

fairly simple matter to carry out ideas that have already been carefully thought out and arranged in

readiness. I will quote from George Johnsons The History Of The Magic Wand."

17

The Wizard, being quite an established success, the same support was accorded to Mr. Munros

venture (The Magic Wand.) It is a trifle misleading. The Wizard and The Magic Wand were both

Mr. Munros ventures; so why not give him credit for it.

As I have already said, I had arranged for David Devant to be the first Conjurer to be reviewed, and

the first number was a great success, as the three of us had done our best. In the second number I

started a stunt for the continued series of exposures under the heading of:- A. Bold Pincher. It ran

for two or three months and then Selbit took exception to it, and stopped the series; but he took the

plum of the next contribution, and used it as a trick. Immediakely three people wrote in, and each

claimed to be the originator of it. Each had to be answered, and then Selbit wanted to come back on

to the idea, but I declined to play second fiddle, and the Pincher series stopped. Then many of my

articles were declined as unsuitable, and that started me thinking.

I FOOL SELBIT. I took my time, and eventually got a friend to allow me to use his name and ad-

dress. So as a Mr. F. Cole, I sent in a sarcastic, but humorous, criticism of a trick described in the last

number. Both Munro and Selbit fell into the trap. Not only did Selbit insert my criticism, but he also

published his thanks, and said that further contributions of a similar nature would be welcome. Ye

gods, how I had fooled him I was sorry to fool Munro, for we were the best of friends, but Selbit had

to be brought up with a jerk. Mr. Munro then saw things in a different light, and began to get very

dissatisfied, and suggested that he would drop Selbit if I would take his duties.

THE MAGIC WAND. From a legal point of view we were forced to start another Magazine, and

Mr. Munro christened it The Magic Wand. We did it all so secretly that Selbit had not the least

idea anything was wrong, and came in late for the M.S.S. What a shock. The paper was out. Selbit

took action against Munro for wrongful dismissal; but after many postponements Munro was given

the verdict as Selbit did not appear.

ln the first No. of the Magic Wand, there is a huge joke. Back Numbers are offered for sale.

Then we worked with a will, and for 3 years I supplied three-quarters of the contents, writing under

all manner of names, such as, H. L., H. A. L., Nine, stone ten, Amateur, B. Wayre,

Vento, Shadow, and other noms de plume were used by myself to prevent the rag looking like a

one man band. For many years I drew the illustrations to save expense.

It was during this time that I first got to hear of George Johnson, or to take any particular notice of

him.

He praised one of my contributions as follows:-

Re Mr. B. Wayre and the tomato, he must have used the wrong shape. Such genu-

ine fun as his goes a long way to brighten up any paper. I hope we may have more of

the same sort. Good humour is always acceptable.

Yours &c, 0. G.C."

18

Then for a certain reason, we wanted to be rid of the monthly, and eventually Mr. George Johnson

took it over as a going concern, lock, stock, and barrel.

For quite a time I helped him with contributions, and for some he paid. His method of paying was

very amusing, yet welcome, for money at that time was not at all plentiful on account of additional

expenses. He would pop in and say:- Go and get a Bass, and can you write this up? He would hand

me the necessary que for writing with a shilling on top of it. Or again he would invite me to join him,

pay with a two shilling piece, and inform me that the change was mine. So all budding writers take

heart. There is even a little money in Magical journalism. Then for a certain reason, I stopped con-

tributing to The Magic Wand.

Mr. George Johnson, in his History of The Magic Wand, claims that he is the owner of a property

skull that hung over the doorway at No. 4, Duke Street. I have no recollection of it. The street door

was public property, and we were only allowed to have our name painted on a section of the porch.

We rented one room, and that had but one door. Outside of that door was a nameplate, which I had

cut in wood, and nothing else. Had we put anything else, it would most likely have been stolen. In-

side of the room, and immediately above the door was a shelf. In the early days it was filled with Or-

gan Pipes objects too large to be removed surreptiously. Towards the end of our occupation of

No. 4, it was filled with an assortment of odd boxes. At no time was a skull hung over the door, or

even placed on the shelf. Had we done so (and assuming that it never did the vanishing act) the

Lads of the Village would have stuck lighted cigarettes in the jaw, and played other jokes too nu-

merous to mention. Like ordinary shop-keepers we had to take great care of what was left within

reach; but despite precautions very many things were stolen, and, as was proved afterwards by

people one would least expect to be thieves. So whatever head George Johnson has in his posses-

sion, he can take it from me that it never hung over the door at No. 4 Duke Street the office of Or-

nums. I did all the fitting the room ever got, and was present at the moving.

From the time I had made the business strong enough for Mr. Munro to come into it, I started to de-

vote myself to the making of apparatus, and opened a workshop in Walworth, sharing my time be-

tween it and No. 4. Phil Davis was doing nothing at that time so he joined me at the workshop for a

regular wage. This went on for a fair time, and then he joined Chung Ling Soo, eventually going

with him to Australia, where he severed his connection with him. Davis was a clever, brainy man;

but his knowledge of Magic was practically nil when he joined us. We were together quite a lot, and

when he left he knew as much about Magic as the next best man. Soo came and told us about the

wonderful man he had found. He acclaimed his ability, his knowledge of Magic, his apparent ad-

vanced ideas, and so on; and then wondered why the recital of it all left Munro and myself quite

cold. Phil Davis had not left us, so we pleased ourselves whether we told Soo we knew him; and we

most certainly had nothing to say against Davis. The only regret was that I had taken so much trou-

ble with a man who was not eventually of any use to Ornum. When Soo returned from Australia he

said:- So Davis was one of your pupils, was he. I wish you had told me, for I like to know who I am

listening to when a man speaks.

One day I hope to write the details of that trip Soo made to Australia. I am about the only man who

knows all the facts from every source. It would be a story of humour, tears, entreaties, treachery,

and tragedy.

19

There is no finer school for Magic than a Depot where one can collect endless knowledge of tricks

by judicious exchanging of secrets, etc. It lead to Mr. Munro suggesting I gave lessons, and I readily

agreed. The fee charged was moderate, being five shillings per hour; and this we shared, no matter

in whose time the lesson took place. Many are the delightful evenings I have spent at pupils private

residences, and many are the yarns I could spin of curious, happenings, and more curious pupils. At

one time I was instructing three German Waiters. One lived near the old Sadlers Wells Theatre; the

second near Waterloo Station; and the third at Vauxhall three of the dowdiest neighbourhoods

and houses it has been my lot to enter. Giving lessons is a kind of snowball stunt. J. Shannon wanted

some moves, and then recommended me to Ronald Pocock, and Ronald to someone else; and so it

went along. By these means I was giving lessons to men who hardly knew the existence of Magical

Depots, or the ways and doings of Magicians. I have no record of the number of men I have taught,

but one has left a lasting impression. I was recommended by Dr. Wingfield, and called at a house of

another Doctor in Shaftesbury Avenue. Everyone seemed quiet, sad, and glum; and when I was left

alone with the Doctors brother, I felt far from happy. After instructing the silent pupil, I suggested

he should try some of the moves; but he declined, and then requested me to continue showing him

sleights. Now that worked out at a Special Conjuring Entertainment In Your Own Home for five

Shillings an hour, a ridiculously low price. So I started to patter to him, and he seemed to like it,

whilst the hands of the clock seemed to work overtime. Again and again I called, and at last he tried.

He mocked me splendidly, and I was pleased. I was never happy with the quiet man, yet sorry when

he left to work the Hydros. A few weeks passed, when a press cutting told the end of the story. Alas;

he had gone the wrong road. Here was a cultured man, unassuming, and of refined tastes (as I knew

him) charged with begging in the streets. Police evidence showed he had been a voluntary inmate in

an Inebriates Home at Cockermouth, and they gave other pathetic evidence. Shortly afterwards I

heard he was dead. What a fool. Drink, like many other things, is meant for our enjoyment, and it is

a poor nincompoop who at some time or other has not overstepped the mark; but to let it get master

to that awful extent where a man will beg to get money for drink only goes to show a diseased mind.

I could name a dozen or more who have gone that way, but the percentage is so low that I fail to see

why millions of folks should be deprived of the normal use of alcohol because a few demented peo-

ple abuse it. That could only be the idea of a crank, a busybody, or killjoy; and these are as maniacal

as the diseased mind craving for drink.

CHARLES MUNRO. Munros brother joined the firm, and was incidentally the cause of us leav-

ing No. 4 Duke street. He brought money into the business, and the idea was to take larger premises

to attract more customers. I was against the idea from start to finish, and argued it out with Munro

on any and every occasion. There is just so much business in Magic. It is shared unequally amongst

the Depots, but no one Depot will ever succeed in getting it all. There is certainly money in Magic,

but you must keep your expenses very low so that the profit is not swallowed up in that direction.

We made a profit, after paying all expenses, at No. 4. Our total rent and light account did not exceed

1 a week, and that gave us a chance to earn more than our salaries and all other expenses; but the

moment we moved to larger premises our expenses were so great, that the battle was lost the mo-

ment we started fighting it. It could not, and did not increase our business.

While I am writing this, Magic in general is experiencing one of the hardest times it has ever been

through. General trade depression, glorious weather, and a year of Wireless has struck Magic an

awful blow; yet only a few months ago an Editor expressed his opinion that the time was now ripe

20

for the erection of a Factory for the manufacture of Conjuring Apparatus. Well, he can put his

money into the concern if he believes his own words, but for myself, well, its too hot to laugh.

When we moved to No. 9 we had a showroom, and quite a number have officiated behind the coun-

ter in it. There were Albert Morrow; J. Edward Wheeler, and George Johnson, to name three. Mor-

rows stay was brief. We had a splendid junior in the firm named Jim Barker, aud he left on account

of a quarrel with Morrow. That upset everyone, so Morrow departed.

Then came J. Edward Wheeler, (not J.A. Wheeler as given in George Johnsons History of the

Magic Wand.) He was a man who knew his business, and was an artist when it came to displaying

goods. He was really clever at his particular branch of business. He stayed quite a time, and was a

splendid salesman.

Later appeared George Johnson. He was making himself familiar with the whereabouts of the

goods we had for sale the first time I met him; and the impression he gave me was that he was highly

strung or nervy. He may have been comfortable with us, but he never appeared to be. When he got

to know us, he oftimes kept us highly amused with selections from his repertoire of amusing stories.

We had a peculiar housekeeper at that time. Some said she was mad. They may be right. I am none

too sure of my own mental stability to be able to pass an opinion on others. Well, it would be an

every day and night occurance to suddenly look up, and see her head protruding round the door

post, with a wild love-light in her eyes. Ugh! It was uncanny, and no matter how much we braced

our nerves, there was always that little internal kick when we saw her head there. We never saw it

get there. it was always there. She seemed pergectly harmless; yet I always took pains to have a few

things in certain places, so that should she change her habits and add the rough stuff I should

be able to coax her in no uncertain manner. I have seen much when performing at Lunatic Asylums.

It took 6 nurses to dissuade one lady that I was not her husband in Kent County Asylum. The Doctor

afterwards informed me no action would be taken against me.

Of course the housekeeper had to eventually leave, and there was a sigh of relief from Johnny and

myself.

When George Johnson arranged to take over the sole Editorship of the Magic Wand he left us, and

took an Office at 24 Buckingham Street. It was an Office, but I immediately gave some offence by

calling it a cupboard. Munro received a certain number of free advertisements as his share of the

deal when The Magic Wand changed hands; but as the War was in progress, they were of little use

to him.

About two or three years before Johnsons advent into the firm of Munros (for we changed our

name when Charlie Munro came into the business) I had broken away from Garland. We had gone

on without a hitch until he got married; when he suddenly thought of his responsibilities, and

wished to lower my fees. My only answer was to go right out of the Picture showing business, a

business we had built to suit our requirements. Garland was left in a terrible hole, for he had a

pocket full of contracts and had to fulfil them. He wired and rushed all over London after me, and I

have since learned he would have raised instead of lowered my fee had we met; for he was in terri-

ble trouble over the shows. He hired a man with a machine, and they fired a film in the drawing

21

room right away. The operator next found wanted a fee larger than Garland was getting himself. A

third operator refused to travel far. Another arrived too late to give the show; and all the time com-

plaints were pouring in to the Agents. I never held a contract. They were booked by Garland.

Well, we never met; but I heard he was going down the ladder on account of loss of shows. A year or

two went by, and one day I passed the Showroom, and recognized the voice of the person Johnson

was serving. It was Garland. Well, he could stay there for all I cared; but he soon heard I had come

to the Office, and called me. Poor old Garland; I hardly knew him. His face was disfigured, and he

was a trifle shabby. His linen was frayed, and he was untidy. Neither spoke but he put his arm round

my neck, and we moved into the passage, then from there into the St. Martins. His eyes were moist

when he said:- You and I have had some happy times together. What a fool I was to do anything to

stop them. We talked of many, many things, and promised to meet as often as we could. But we

never met again. Many things at first prevented us; then the War, and his death afterwards.

DOUGLAS BEAUFORT. The only time Garland showed a trick, or a move, was when he had an

object in view. He looked down upon anyone who had not made a name; and has said to me dozens

of times:- They are only crawlers. Let them find out the same as I have done. He was never ready

or willing to show anything that mattered, and was always jealous of his knowledge and position in

Magic. When Douglas Beaufort died, Garland met Dr. Byrd Page, and said:- Now there are only

two of us left. That Monarch of Sarcasm immediately replied:- Yes I am one; but who is the

other?

DOUGLAS DEXTER. By the way, it was Garland and myself who gave Douglas Dexter his

name. I do not remember Dexters real name in the old days, but he proudly showed a programme of

one of his performances, and Garland said:- It is all right, barring the name. You want a double-

barrelled name that is impressive, yet easily remembered. Dexter will do, but you should preceed it

with, er and as I happened to be looking at Beauforts Photograph on the wall at the time, I

chimed in with Douglas. That happened to be the Christening Ceremony of a young man who has

become wonderfully expert since.

Dr. BYRD PAGE. Dr. Byrd Page and myself were good friends, and, curiously, I never feared his

sarcasm possibly because he was never sarcastic to me. He could have been quite easily. My

face, my figure, my speech, my mannerisms, my opinions, all would have given him ample

scope for sarcasm at my expense. Yet he would listen to me, with his jaws set, when I pointed out to

him how foolish he was to make enemies. Wait until they attack you, and then reply as hard as you

think fit; but not before. He did some awfully curious things. At one time a Mr. Wade used to call

at the Office. He was a very rich man, and exceedingly generous. He sent the Dr. a ham, and it was

immediately returned. I asked the Dr. why he returned it, for it offended Wade quite a lot. He sent

me food. Do I look as though I required food? Alas; his end was sad. Owing to a bereavement, he

did what he had always condemned; and that was to find relief in the cup that should cheer, but

which, in his case, literally drowned his sorrows; for he dropped down in a Leicester Square Cafe,

and was afterwards taken to Charing Cross Hospital.

I LEAVE MUNROS. I was with Mr. Munro from 1888 until 1915, and it was a wonderful time.

We had got on splendidly together, and neither of us had any regrets at least, I had none until

1914. Then I wanted to leave. Why I wanted to sever my connection need not be gone into here; but

22

after satisfying myself that I was justified in doing so, I just waited an opportunity to retire grace-

fully. The chance came in 1915, and I left. The following extracts from Mr. Munros correspon-

dence, were written by him after I had left. Therefore they are of more value and interest, than if

they had been written whilst I was with him.

COPY EXTRACTS.

9, Duke Street,

Adelphi, London. W.C.

April, 1915.

Dear Harry,

On the strength of the recollection of nearly 30 years unbroken friendship, I now

hasten to write this letter to you.

I consider you, have done, aud will consider you part and parcel of the firm, not from

any financial standpoint, but from a moral and personal one; and that is why I like to

see you and discuss affairs.

I close this letter by saying that you always have had, and continue to have my abso-

lute confidence, respect, and in many cases admiration of your abilities and loyalty.

Yours very faithfully,

(Signed) Geo. Munro.

Mr. Munro eventually sold the business for quite a small sum of money to Stanley Norton, who

parted with his interests to Bertie Bretma, and Bretma sold out and joined the Great Carmo Com-

pany in a responsible position.

That was the passing of Munros at one time the leading Magical Depot with customers all over

the world.

YE OLD SAINT MARTIN. This hostelry was opposite No. 4, and was the cause of Munros one

complaint. I would prefer doing business in the Office, and not over there was his only adverse

criticism of my management of the business, but I explained that I was getting business and holding

business at no expense to himself. He still argued, but when he eventually came into the business, he

found that much had to be done that was not quite orthodox from a strictly business point of view. I

had always the interests of Munro at heart, and he knew it. And so he let me go the road I thought

best. Many a Conjurer would come along and buy something just to get me out and start some fun.

Some of the stunts that I used to get up to were villiauous. I would secretly remove the water carafe

from the counter, and empty it. Then I would remove the shell from a boiled egg, and insert a piece

of lighted paper in the water bottle, and place the egg on mouth of same. As the burning paper con-

sumed the air, so the egg would be sucked into the bottle where it would burst, making a beastly

23

mess. All my customers liked to see this wonderfull experiment; but the barmaid cursed me in every

language known under the sun.

Many glasses used to stand inverted on the counter. We would fill one, put a postcard on the top, in-

vert it again, and return it to its proper place, carefully removing the postcard from beneath it. Then

we would stand clear, in the rush hour the girlie would take an order, pull up the glass quickly, and

flop would go the water all over the counter, and anybody who happened to be near. By the aid of

black thread, customers would unconsciously produce spiritualistic effects when they entered,

causing flower pots and ferns to mysteriously fall with a crash. There were more jokes and surprises

at Ye Old St. Martin, that ever were sold at Ornums, but of a different kind.

Secretly I would crack every match just below the head, and we would enjoy watching a customer

go to the match stand, and try to strike one. I learnt much bad language through listening to them.

The barmaid would think that the customer was heavy handed, and would try to strike one for him,

but with no better result. I will not waste time with further jokes, except those that relate to individu-

als.

BERTIE BRETMA. Bretma and myself are the best of friends, so I know he will not mind me re-

lating a joke that nearly ended in a tragedy. Bretmas discomforture was caused through the conniv-

ance of the barmaid, and his eagerness to learn. For the benefit of those who do not know the

Funnel Trick I will explain it. A funnel is poked through the waistcoat and down the top of the

trousers to keep it steady and upright. A sixpence is placed on the forehead, and the performer

counts five, and then tilting the head forward quickly, must drop the sixpence into the funnel. Well,

the person who performs the trick to catch the unwary, has always got to take a certain amount of

risk as will be readily seem later on.

Well, we were about 7 strong in the St. Martin, when the barmaid asked me quite quietly whether

the new gentleman had seen the funnel trick. Bretma was the new gentleman to her. Oh, yes; he

is a very clever conjurer, and would be sure to know it. Bretma fell right into the trap, so easily in

fact that I was afraid I was the one going to be caught. The barmaid quickly passed the funnel over,

and I explained the trick to Bretma, whilst the remainder of the company also got interested. I

watched Bretmas eyes keenly, and came to the conclusion that he did not know the trick. If I fell,

then it would be through one of the others. So I chanced it. I fixed the funnel, put the sixpence on my

forehead, counted five very steadily, and then quickly tilted my head forward, and dropped the six-

pence into the funnel. Bretma couldnt get the funnel away from me quick enough to show me he

could do it. Hie tucked it into the top of his trousers, put the sixpence on his forehead, and in went

four glasses of beer into the funnel while his eyes were looking at the ceiling. He never counted one,

let alone five; and he never dropped the sixpence into the funnel; but he flung the funnel away,

picked up a heavy stool, and would have dented my hat something awful had not someone quickly

put a restraining hand upon his arm. Then he saw the fear in the barmaids face at the turn events had

taken. She had aided and abetted, but the funnel was so quickly recovered and returned that her

anxiety was soon relieved, and she was no longer in the joke. Then Bretma saw the humour of the

situation as well as a man could who had four glasses of beer running loose in his trousers, and

who left his Man Friday imprint wherever he walked.

24

In working that catch, I have never once been hoist with my own petard, as the saying generally

goes, but which is incorrect in this case, and might be altered to doused with my own douche.

Bretma has been present at many of our escapades, and the following is a fair sample. G. W. Hunter

had invited me to the New Cross Empire to see him give a Magical Act. I took Bretma, and the part

of the show we liked most was where Hunter waltzed with his lady partner. When we left the Or-

chestra Stalls, we went straight to another one, and had Coffee. Somehow we seemed a little glum,

for the whole nights entertainment had been disappointing, so it was a real treat when a bluff

bounced up with a lady and wanted everyone to make way for him. He wore a monocle, spoke af-

fectedly and drawled his speech some what. Now, in politics I lean towards Conservatism, so do not

think I am a Socialist or an advocate of Class hatred. I mention this to prevent any misunderstand-

ing. At the same time I detest a bluff. Well, this one at the Coffee Stall pushed his way in, and spoke

as follows:- I say; what have you? My dear; will you have Coffee, or Tea. I daresay it will be quite

all right, eh, what. Have something to eat, eh, what; yes do. Some bread and butter, and eggs. His

talk was offensive. Well, I threw half crown on the counter, and pointing to the basket of eggs, told

the proprietor they were mine. He saw the joke instantly, counted the eggs, and gave me a copper or

two change. Then the bluff started to order coffee, eggs, and bread and butter. Sorry, no eggs; sir.

Eh what; no eggs. Basketful. They are sold to this gentleman. But he cannot eat all those.

Nothing to do with me what he can eat, Sir.

Then I started. I took the basket up, and offered it to Bretma. Then I held it towards the flotsam and

jetsam that is to be found around a Coffee Stall. The action was magnetic. Up they came and helped

themselves. The bluff, his lady, Bretma, and I were surrounded by some of the scum of New

Cross. The Proprietor also put up many free cups of tea, and slices of bread and butter. Then I

started to gag. Pleasant little party, Colonel. But he would have none of it. He was trying his hard-

est to get away from filthy street women and mouchers. Once you give anything to that class, they

always pester for more, and their numbers increased every minute. The bluff pushed his way out,

and we did the same. Bretma did not like it, but grinned all the while; then we quickly boarded a car

and made for home.

THE MONTPELIER. Garland and I were working at Ashtead one January Saturday afternoon,

and be expressed the wish to see a Pantomime. It was getting late by the time we had packed, and it

was impossible to get to London in time to procure seats. Yet I pulled the cloth off of a table, wound

it round my waist, did a short dance, and said I am the good Fairy. Your wish shall be fulfilled.

How? You shall see. Now, at the Montpelier, Walworth, they were running a Variety Show

from 8 oclock to 9:30. Then they had a Pantomime up to 11 oclock. Garland did not know the

place, and wondered wherever I was taking him after we left Waterloo. I had the run of the place,

but to impress Garland I had both cards sent in, and the Manager DeWing came out to greet

us. I have no wish to run the place down, but it was almost a free and easy at that time. Hardly any

artiste appearing was paid, but the audience though common was well-behaved. Garlands

overcoat alone would have paid for at least the next best 100 overcoats in the Hall. His silk hat was a

crown of glory in Wallworf. Was he uncomfortable? Not a little bit; for he had had experience of

Plumstead and Woolwich. Personally I was quite at home in the place, for I had taken many conjur-

ers there to get actual practise, and was consequently an asset to the Management.

25

In those days Pros. had special privileges at the Bar: Whisky was twopence. Beer from a penny

up. Imagine the commotion when Garland threw a sovereign on the Bar for the benefit of all and

sundry.

I explained our mission to DeWing, and it amused him immensely. Then he whispered:- Would

you like the Box? I can soon turn them out. The them" hap-pened to be the occupants; but we pre-

ferred seats in the Stalls (?) ever under the watchful eye of the Chairman, (the husband of Alice Car-

ney) and the waiter. The latter seemed to have an idea that Garland would fade away if he got dry.

We saw the last of the turns, and then the Pantomime which was thickened up with local children

as the Ballet. It was quite good under the conditions, and Garland beamed on everyone. After the

show, Garland was introduced to everyone who was anything at all, from the Proprietor down to the

door-keeper; and when we eventually drove away to the Playgoers Club, Clements Inn, he said:- I

wanted to see a Pantomime, and Ive seen a good one. Also I cannot remember ever being so popu-

lar; and do you know Ive saved money. Yes, I should have spent more had I not come with you."

We had supper at the Club, and he suggested Billiards. Well my youth was not mis-spent conse-

quently I am a very poor fist with a cue. The few members present knew Garland well, but did not

happen to know me and they were highly amused at some of my strokes, until by sheer luck I exe-

cuted a marvelous screw back shot. Then the room suddenly became very q