Wait a minute. I must polish the crystal and rub the black cat in the right direction. It is the year 1954 A.D. (After Diachylon) and the scene is a super magic shop of that era. Chairs are overflowing with non-buying magi. Two wizards are setting up decks; another is trying, for the fourth time, to locate the chosen card; the rest are trying to explain just why they played that two-dollar date.

Chatter ceases when the inventive genius of the day enters/Elmer Slideslip. Recognized as the author of that monumental work Tracing the Thumb-tip to its Tepee his actions are countenanced while, from pockets not made in respected suits, he removes all gimmicks and offers to demonstrate his latest conception, Knocko-Biffem-Squeezem-Plunk. He will use but one ordinary pea, a bodkin, a bath towel, and a biscuit.

The boys crowd around the genius. I see only their backs. The trick must be clever for they do a lot of back patting. Then he explains it. The sleepy looking fellow in the corner springs up. “It’s my idea !” Scoffing is generous. The mellow looking gent continues “Fifteen years ago, Slideslip, you stealthy swing sorcerer, I invented that stunt. I should write “Over The Coals” — the column in the Genix”. We all know him. It’s Dabney Filch, better known as “One way back Dabney”. We had ignored the guy a lot but there was no doubt but that he was the best wax card polisher in the slick ace business.

“Tomorrow,” says Dabney, after being called a blubber buffer by Sideslip, “I’ll bring proof. See you at 2 P.M.”

The emporium was packed — Sideslip stood in a corner nervously gnawing upon a new fingertip. He automatically autographed marked cards for the boys. Filch entered and tossed a legal looking envelope upon the counter. “My proof !” he screamed in the voice which had made him do a silent act in vaudeville.

Everybody looked it over. Addressed to Mr. Filch at his home address it had been registered and postmarked 1939 — Oct. 18, — just 15 years earlier. The flap was sealed with sealing-wax in several places and Dabney’s name plainly written (as plainly as he could write) across the flap. As a further means of establishing the date, a stamp had been placed across the flap and the post-office date mark was there to see.

There was no doubt even among such skeptics as gather around that magic counter. Mailed 15 years ago the envelope, torn open, disclosed a folded, sealed, sheet of paper. The edges were glued together and on the outside was a certificate with a notary’s signature together with the date. The seal had punched right through both thicknesses of paper. They tried to tear apart the sealed paper but it had been fastened so securely that scissors finally were used.

The sheet, unfolded, revealed, in Dabney’s quaint penmanship, a full and complete explanation of Knocko-Biffem-Squeezem-Plunk. Without the flair for titles, Dabney Filch had merely called it A trick with a bath towel, a biscuit, a pea, and a bodkin.

So what ? In the face of such legal looking proof, Elmer Sideslip backed down and let the Great Filch advertise and sell the trick.

You have read the above. I did. Then I took down a copy of Higher Magic by Oscar Teale. I dozed off on an old friend, a folding coin with a bad case of the bends. In my dream I met Filch. He was explaining how he’d fool the boys fifteen years hence.

He’d read The Jinx – #62 – Oct. 14, 1939, and been intrigued by the item A 68 cent Patent. “I’ll fix that,” said Dabney, “and prove priority of invention at any time”. He folded a sheet of paper in half. Rubber cement (at all stationery stores) was applied to the three edges. A notary punched his official seal and signed it as contents unknown. A prothonotary certificate (a guarantee of the notary’s office) was attached. The works was put into an envelope and rubber cement applied over the gummed portion of the flap.

More cement was put on the surface where the flap would contact. Both surfaces were allowed to dry and then sealed together. That’s the way rubber cement works.

The flap was sealed and a penny stamp put over the flap edge — the stamp being attached with rubber cement as described heretofore. Dabney’s name was written then upon the flap. The correct amount of postage was applied to the face of the envelope – it was addressed to himself – and sent by registered mail.

15 years later. Dabney, the magician, wants to steal a trick. He rushes home. Carefully lifting up the stamp and envelope flap he removes the folded paper. Separating the cemented edges of the paper. Separating the cemented edges of the paper he opens the folded sheet and writes out the miracle he has miffed and now is lifting. He rubs away the dry rubber cement from the paper edge, applies a thin coating of glue, presses edges together and puts it back into the envelope. From the flap and the stamp the rubber cement is removed by finger rubbing. Then only a “lick” is necessary on both the flap and stamp to seal them down with their original glue. Sealing wax can be mastered with the subterfuge of putting it on 15 years later in off hand spots.

In the dream I remember asking him what he’d do if the rubber cement had exceptional sticking qualities and wouldn’t separate after such a long rest. He didn’t seem worried. Drawlingly he assured that a few drops of benzol would make the rubber cement dissolve too quickly and not leave any stain.

I woke up then, and this discourse has been a long winded way of saying: A 68 Cent Patent……. Phooey !

This principle can be used as a marvellous prediction trick. Fix up half a dozen such documents and keep them handy. When you play a good show — one that provides money in addition to your dinner — you should be able to knock them off their prosaic posteriors by predicting the day’s news headlines, a la Stewart James, or just some normal occurrence.

(Editor’s note : Sid is tearing apart my Jinx #62 angle for protection of material. It does make for an excellent publicity stunt. Build yourselves a few rubberized envelopes and sit tight for the time to come when they may mean a nice news notice. This issue of The Jinx is being sent to Mr. Lorraine in an envelope sealed by rubber cement — he’ll never notice it — but the postman may have gotten all the news !)