e now gone through the average performance of the Indian
Jadoo-wallah and have, I trust, some idea at any rate of how his
tricks are done. Though this is as far as I know the first time that
such explanations have been published in detail I do not want anyone
to accuse me of trying to deprive the poor fellow of his means of
livelihood, which is far from my intention. In fact, though people who
have read these pages have a glimmering of how he does his tricks, few
of these will be able to imitate them, and those who are really
interested will probably call in the next Jadoo-wallah that appears,
to get him to give his show with the intention of checking my
explanations while the tricks are being performed. I sincerely trust
that this will be the case as I shall have done at least one
Jadoo-wallah a good turn.

It is true that conjurors have a code of honour--this may not be
believed of such deceptive people--in that they do not divulge each
others tricks which are performed exclusively. For instance, suppose
that Mr. A invented a new trick and showed it to Mr. B, who is also a
finished artist. Though Mr. B could see the modus operandi of the
trick he would be quite unjustified in giving it away or in doing the
trick himself without the permission of Mr. A. This is an inviolate
law of Members of the Magic Circle and applies equally, or should do,
to showmen who do not belong to the circle.

There is no harm, however, in one of us explaining tricks that have
been performed for centuries and are almost common property. These
tricks have lost, as it were, their patent rights. Personally, I do
not mind explaining any tricks of my own that I am certain an
unskilled person could never possibly do.

Having completed the average programme of our Jadoo-wallah, I feel
sure that people will say to each other "Yes" but what about the Rope
trick? He cannot explain that and has avoided the best known trick of
all Indian conjuring tricks.

In self-defence therefore, we will deal with the Great Rope trick. I
will describe it as it has been described to me.

The performer, in one's own compound, throws up the end of an ordinary
rope into the air. By some mysterious means this end remains suspended
in mid-air, without any visible means of support, so much so that the
little boy assistant climbs up the rope to its very highest point,
whence, after an interval, he entirely disappears. The performer then
takes a sword and waves it in the