Without Mr. Rudolph Reimer’s aid I never would have dared write about Henry Hardin. Rudy cut his magical eye-teeth on Professor Parson’s ideas and was the foil for Hardin subtleties over a long period of time. I regret not having a dozen more pages, though, because the Henry Hardin effects as advertised could well be made into a book by itself. There are 43 of them listed in his Memorandum, and there are at least 20 more known ideas not listed. This issue publishes a picture of the man who contributed plenty to our art, and, to our knowledge, it’s the first time.
Carl Jones : You helped magicians a lot with the Hilliard book. You produced it because you knew John well, and knew how much he wanted it to be printed. Several years ago we talked about a set of three books. You wanted them to be written by three of the present day creators. As you discovered, present day creators are not willing to have their secrets and presentation ideas published. And when so, they are too busy trying to make a living to sit down and work on a book. There’s a three book set of priceless heritage that you might publish right now. Just give us the lives and tricks of Hardin, Jordan and DeLand. Let the set show to this generation what those men conceived and WHY they considered magic a worthwhile study. I can list over 500 tricks by those three. It would be a production comparable to Greater Magic and a “must” item for every magician. I’m sorry that John couldn’t have done the job and spaced the tricks with his magically erudite flavorings. But you can back such an undertaking and be proud of the fact that men who worked for magic as an art will be getting recognition deserved. Don’t forget, Mr. Jones, please, that those 500 tricks are still, for the most part, way ahead of the present day output.
Bill Larsen could have filled his two columns (a month) to better advantage than waste space about our “missing the boat.” The June issue cover looks a lot like Bobby Weill, and for a moment we wondered if the genial Genii had reversed himself as per Proskauer. Bill, who evidently took over the reviewing of tricks and books on his editrivia (he considers it an editorial) page because the “farmed out” hands were too tough on his advertisers, spent subscriber’s money to talk about our Editrivia instead of mentioning how bad the tricks could have been. A quickie answer, and a waste of time, for we want to give you the Rosini-Rosini scoop. Freer – we’re still right, if you want a law case. It can’t be done as originally described and pictured. You’ll need two hoops, one faked, and either a full cloak or a chair. I went wrong on the general idea, but only because the described details were as wet as some magical catalogue ads. The Jinx has thrived on details.
Fitzkee – The Jinx scooped everybody on that show closing in Denver, and we could have told plenty more were we not conversant with personal troubles of show people. We finished our article with the hope that the show might find a new “angel” and continue eastward because magic needs a big road show now, possibly to start a new cycle of such. Proskauer – the invisible ink blotter may have been known to Julian for umpteen years, but it wasn’t pushed until after our “cat card” subscription idea upped our circulation by 332 out of the first 1800 mailed.
Our idea still hasn’t been figured by recipients, whereas, should you send a dime to the patent office, asking for copies representing the Magink Process (Stunts! Inc.) as per the numbers on their copy, you’ll get a patent paper detailing, “Auxiliary Presser For Flat Knitting Machines.” And the ink gag isn’t the only thing mentioned in the new Stunts ! Inc. copy.
Gwynne – We didn’t mention his name. Even in your territory not more than ten people connected with magic read it. Magicians don’t pay attention to the theatrical trade papers. They read only Genii and The Jinx. I used the critic’s opinion with blanked out name to show that times have changed. Why bring out the man’s identity and ridicule him ? I could have done that, to scoop you, had I wanted to.
If The Jinx Editrivia is considered worthless this week, it’s only because I typed a lot of letters to form words to make sentences and complete one paragraph. I never have, and I hope I never will say anything I don’t believe. But when YOU, Mr. Reader, buy this sheet, it’s for the tricks and magical advice within its pages. My comments on magic and magicians is the safety valve. I’ve never tossed away as much space as I have this week. I haven’t as many pages as my contemporaries so each has to count. This page has been for news and data – I apologize (sometimes too quickly) when I’m wrong – but in the future I can’t worry about replies to those who fret over this page and don’t try the tricks.
“Dear Donald Hendricks; Please ignore that Weill comparison. The resemblance is there, but you couldn’t be as wily.” — “Dear Bobby Weill; Please ignore that Hendricks comparison. The resemblance is there, but you couldn’t look so innocent of wile.”
Carl Rosini has found it difficult to live since vaudeville became a word to be seen only in scrapbooks. Not being able to adapt himself to later day conditions he has wandered through the maze of his own mirror-like mind for a past decade. As an illusionist and variety magician he was as good as any, but the change of tempo hit him amidship. Age could be the cause for his inability to rise to the modern magical demands, but only a bittered and resentful soul will excuse his demand of $35,000 damages from Paul Rosini. His attempt to injunction Paul from working at N.Y.’s Rainbow Room is one of those back-stabs, for we remember when Paul (it was just after Zancig died. Paul was his last assistant) re-opened the Asbury Park, N.J. concession and had Carl with him for the season. The name Rosini doesn’t belong to either, but Carl never got excited about it when he was doing all right. He was a big box magician with King, his dog, and Paul was a hanky-panky parlor man. Came the era when stage shows, especially magic, went to hell. Down went Carl. Intimate and manipulative magic came into favor. Up went Paul. We can sort of excuse Carl’s failing sight to see changes, together with his hardening conscience, but his claim that Paul, using the name of Rosini, hurt his (Carl’s) reputation is ridiculous. Carl never had a reputation in night clubs. Try to find a high-class nite spot (according to the trade journals) that knows Rosini as anyone other than Paul. These two knew each other, and worked together, for many years. Why must Carl stoop so low as to walk under a dropped summons because Paul has, after many years, built himself with an eye on the times, while Carl has let the moss grow over that image he has been belligerently observing in his looking-glass ?
