DANTE PERPLEXED.

IT IS not often that magicians are puzzled. Their business is to see that what to them appears simple must remain a matter of mystery to the uninitiated public. But Dante, the well known American magician, was considerably puzzled when appearing at Proctor's Theatre, New York, early in 1919.

During his performances, Dante had occasion to use the "run down"--the small bridge from the stage which gives a performer access to the stalls. He was perplexed to notice a very powerfully built, shabbily dressed negro occupying one of the best stalls in the theatre. This in itself was strange enough, but when the negro appeared in the same seat at every single performance, the mystery became deeper still.

After he had given his last show, the conjurer returned to his dressing room, and mentioned the matter to his wife. As they were discussing the affair, there was a tap at the door, and the call boy entered.

"Well?" asked Dante.

"'Scuse me, sir, there's a nigger downstairs says he wants to see you on very important business."

"Aha," smiled Dante. "The mystery man himself. Show him up, George."

The negro entered, smiled across at Madame Dante, and threw himself without invitation into an armchair.

"Say, boss," he said, "Where dat woman go?"

"Woman?" asked the conjurer. "What woman?"

"Dat woman on de stage."

"Oh, you mean the vanishing lady trick. She vanished by magic."

"Magic, eh? Could yo' vanish me like dat?"

"Certainly."

"Yo' could vanish me anywhere, boss?"

"No. Only on the stage. It's a special stage illusion."

"How much you charge to make me one like dat?"

"My price would be six hundred dollars. But I'm sorry I couldn't make one for you. It's an exclusive secret."

Here followed a somewhat heated argument, but Dante was adamant. The negro finally took his departure, looking extremely dejected and downhearted.

The following week, a very flash young man called on Dante. He was anxious to get to business.

"What can I do for you" asked the magician.

"The Vanishing Lady Trick," was the quick reply. "I have got a customer for you. He wants to buy the illusion, lock, stock and barrel."

"Is it a negro?"

"Yes."

"Well I saw him last week. I told him my price was six hundred dollars in the ordinary way. But I didn't make one for him."

"Well, he still wants one. I'm acting for him, and I can offer you a thousand dollars. Perhaps you can run down with me. It will only take you five minutes."

Still extremely perplexed, Dante consented to visit the negro. The young man escorted him to an old wooden shack where his prospective client was sitting staring at a small stone which he held in his hand.

"Good afternoon, boss," said the dusky one.

"Good afternoon," returned Dante.

"See, here Boss, yo' must make dat vanishing trick fo' me. I got plenty of money." He produced a chequebook. Then he held the stone up for the magician's benefit. "Dis here's a magic stone. Dis young man tell me that if I buy yo' trick fo' thousand dollars, and rubs dis stone for thirty nights, I can vanish any time, anywhere."

"That's right," the young man whispered to Dante. "He'll believe anything. We can fleece him easy."

"You dirty dog," cried Dante. "I'll not be party to any swindle." He turned again to the nigger. "What do you want to vanish for?" he asked. "Are you going in for bootlegging?"

"Mebbe yes, mebbe no, boss. But in any case I wants to vanish."

Dante turned to the door.

"I can't vanish you--nor can anyone else. You keep your money in your pocket, Sambo. It's safer there than anywhere else."