THE GREAT MAURICE AND A NEW ILLUSION.

ONE afternoon, shortly after the War, I was demonstrating a few tricks to Bert Bailey, the popular Australian actor, when The Great Maurice walked into my office. He was immediately followed by a huge, thick set, and not very intelligent looking negro.

"Good afternoon, Maurice," I said.

"Who's your friend?"

"Do you mean this fellow?" asked Maurice, jerking his head in the negro's direction. "I don't know him from Adam. He seems to be following me about."

"Good afternoon," interrupted the dusky one. "None of you gentlemen have seen me before. I'm Sam."

"I've met plenty of Sams," I returned.

"Yes, sir. I daresay you have," was the reply. "But not this one. There's only one Sam like me. I'm a side show exhibit at circuses."

"What's your line?" I asked.

I'm the Wild Man from Borneo. Just look at these photos." He produced a number of dilapidated prints from his pocket. "That's a picture of a girl who sometimes works with me. We look like real savages when we're made up."

I glanced through the photographs, and handed them back to him.

"They're all very interesting," I remarked.

"But why do you honour me with a visit?"

"I've finished with the wild man stuff. I want to buy some tricks."

"You want to become a conjurer?"

"Sure. What sort of tricks have you got?"

"There's the 'Indian Basket.' That's a good illusion."

"No. It's much too old."

"Would a box escape suit you?"

"That came out of the ark?"

For the next twenty minutes I was occupied in suggesting tricks to the negro. But everything I proposed met with the same objection; they were all too old. At last I grew desperate.

"What about a freak that is half a woman, half a dog?" I demanded.

At this the negro's eyes lit up. "Which half is the woman?" he asked.

"The top half."

"It's really alive?"

"As much alive as you are."

"What is the price of this person?"

"I'll charge you £350."

The dusky one jumped back as if I had shot him. "My goodness, mister," he said. "That's a lot of money."

"The best thing you can do," I said, trying to keep a straight face, "is to get your friends to subscribe. Form a liability company, and make yourself managing director. This freak will make your fortune."

The negro evidently thought this a good suggestion. He picked up his hat, and promised to call again in a few days when he had collected the money.

As the door closed behind him, I burst out laughing. Maurice gripped me by the arm.

"Say, I'll buy that half woman, half dog freak," he said excitedly. "What's your price to me?"

I looked at him in amazement. "How long have you been a conjurer, Maurice?" I asked.

"Since I was a kid in knickerbockers."

"Do you mean to tell me that you didn't realise I was pulling that fellow's leg?"

Maurice looked annoyed. "Isn't there any such person?" he demanded.

"Of course not."

"Well, I'll be--. If you use your brains and invent one, I can tour the world with it. There's a fortune in the idea." And with that, he stamped impatiently from the room.