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150
Literary Lapses
·
Stephen Leacock
70
It
was
passed
to
him.
"Have
I
your
permission
to
put
it
into
this
mortar
and
pound
it
to
pieces?"
he
asked
savagely.
The
Quick
Man
nodded
and
smiled.
The
conjurer
threw
the
watch
into
the
mortar
and
grasped
a
sledge
hammer
from
the
table.
There
was
a
sound
of
violent
smashing,
"He's-slipped-it-up-his-sleeve,"
whispered
the
Quick
Man.
"Now,
sir,"
continued
the
conjurer,
"will
you
allow
me
to
take
your
handkerchief
and
punch
holes
in
it?
Thank
you.
You
see,
ladies
and
gentlemen,
there
is
no
deception;
the
holes
are
visible
to
the
eye."
The
face
of
the
Quick
Man
beamed.
This
time
the
real
mystery
of
the
thing
fascinated
him.
"And
now,
sir,
will
you
kindly
pass
me
your
silk
hat
and
allow
me
to
dance
on
it?
Thank
you."
The
conjurer
made
a
few
rapid
passes
with
his
feet
and
exhibited
the
hat
crushed
beyond
recognition.
"And
will
you
now,
sir,
take
off
your
celluloid
collar
and
permit
me
to
burn
it
in
the
candle?
Thank
you,
sir.
And
will
you
allow
me
to
smash
your
spectacles
for
you
with
my
hammer?
Thank
you."
By
this
time
the
features
of
the
Quick
Man
were
assuming
a
puzzled
expression.
"This
thing
beats
me,"
he
whispered,
"I
don't
see
through
it
a
bit."
There
was
a
great
hush
upon
the
audience.
Then
the
conjurer
drew
himself
up
to
his
full
height
and,
with
a
withering
look
at
the
Quick
Man,
he
concluded:
"Ladies
and
gentlemen,
you
will
observe
that
I
have,
with
this
gentleman's
permission,
broken
his
watch,
burnt
his
collar,
smashed
his
spectacles,
and
danced
on
his
hat.
If
he
will
give
me
the
further
permission
to
paint
green
stripes
on
his
overcoat,
or
to
tie
his
suspenders
in
a
knot,
I
shall
be
delighted
to
entertain
you.
If
not,
the
performance
is
at
an
end."
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