Voces Populi

MP3 Audio CD. Voces Populi

An Evening with a Conjuror.


SCENE--A Suburban Hall. The Performance has not yet begun. The
Audience is limited and low-spirited, and may perhaps
number--including the Attendants--eighteen. The only people in
the front seats are a man in full evening dress, which he tries
to conceal under a caped coat, and two Ladies in plush
opera-cloaks. Fog is hanging about in the rafters, and the
gas-stars sing a melancholy dirge. Each casual cough arouses
dismal echoes. Enter an intending Spectator, who is conducted
to a seat in the middle of an empty row. After removing his hat
and coat, he suddenly thinks better--or worse--of it, puts them
on again, and vanishes hurriedly.

FIRST SARDONIC ATTENDANT (at doorway). Reg'lar turnin' em away
to-night, we are!

SECOND SARDONIC ATTENDANT. He come up to me afore he goes to the
pay-box, and sez he--"Is there a seat left?" he sez. And I sez to 'im,
"Well, I think we can manage to squeeze you in somewhere." Like that,
I sez.

[The Orchestra, consisting of two thin-armed little girls, with
pigtails, enter, and perform a stumbling Overture upon a cracked piano.
HERR VON KAMBERWOHL, the Conjuror, appears on platform, amidst loud
clapping from two obvious Confederates in a back row.

HERR V. K. (in a mixed accent). Lyties and Shentilmans, pefoor I
co-mence viz my hillusions zis hevenin' I 'ave most hemphadically to
repoodiate hall assistance from hany spirrids or soopernatural beins
vatsohever. All I shall 'ave ze honour of showing you will be perform by
simple Sloight of 'and or Ledger-dee-Mang! (He invites any member of
the Audience to step up and assist him, but the spectators remain coy.)
I see zat I 'ave not to night so larsh an orjence to select from as
usual, still I 'ope-