The Magic Egg
by Frank Stockton
The pretty little theatre attached to the building of the
Unicorn Club had been hired for a certain January afternoon by
Mr. Herbert Loring, who wished to give therein a somewhat novel
performance, to which he had invited a small audience consisting
entirely of friends and acquaintances.
Loring was a handsome fellow about thirty years old, who had
travelled far and studied much. He had recently made a long
sojourn in the far East, and his friends had been invited to the
theatre to see some of the wonderful things he had brought from
that country of wonders. As Loring was a club-man, and belonged
to a family of good social standing, his circle of acquaintances
was large, and in this circle a good many unpleasant remarks had
been made regarding the proposed entertainment--made, of course,
by the people who had not been invited to be present. Some of
the gossip on the subject had reached Loring, who did not
hesitate to say that he could not talk to a crowd, and that he
did not care to show the curious things he had collected to
people who would not thoroughly appreciate them. He had been
very particular in regard to his invitations.
At three o'clock on the appointed afternoon nearly all the
people who had been invited to the Unicorn Theatre were in their
seats. No one had stayed away except for some very good reason,
for it was well known that if Herbert Loring offered to show
anything it was worth seeing.
About forty people were present, who sat talking to one
another, or admiring the decoration of the theatre. As Loring
stood upon the stage--where he was entirely alone, his exhibition
requiring no assistants--he gazed through a loophole in the
curtain upon a very interesting array of faces. There were the
faces of many men and women of society, of students, of workers
in various fields of thought, and even of idlers in all fields of
thought; but there was not one which indicated a frivolous or
listless disposition. The owners of those faces had come to see
something, and they wished to see it.
For a quarter of an hour after the time announced for the
opening of the exhibition Loring peered through the hole in the
curtain, and then, although all the people he had expected had
not arrived, he felt it would not do for him to wait any longer.
The audience was composed of well-bred and courteous men and
women, but despite their polite self-restraint Loring could see
that some of them were getting tired of waiting. So, very
reluctantly, and feeling that further delay was impossible, he
raised the curtain and came forward on the stage.
Briefly he announced that the exhibition would open with some
fireworks he had brought from Corea. It was plain to see that
the statement that fireworks were about to be set off on a
theatre stage, by an amateur, had rather startled some of the
audience, and Loring hastened to explain that these were not
real fireworks, but that they were contrivances made of colored
glass, which were illuminated by the powerful lens of a lantern
which was placed out of sight, and while the apparent pyrotechnic
display would resemble fireworks of strange and grotesque
designs, it would be absolutely without danger. He brought out
some little bunches of bits of colored glass, hung them at some
distance apart on a wire which was stretched across the stage
just high enough for him to reach it, and then lighted his
lantern, which he placed in one of the wings, lowered all the
lights in the theatre, and began his exhibition.
As Loring turned his lantern on one of the clusters of glass
lenses, strips, and points, and, unseen himself, caused them to
move by means of long cords attached, the effects were beautiful
and marvellous. Little wheels of colored fire rapidly revolved,
miniature rockets appeared to rise a few feet and to explode in
the air, and while all the ordinary forms of fireworks were
produced on a diminutive scale, there were some effects that were
entirely novel to the audience. As the light was turned
successively upon one and another of the clusters of glass,
sometimes it would flash along the whole line so rapidly that all
the various combinations of color and motion seemed to be
combined in one, and then for a time each particular set of
fireworks would blaze, sparkle, and coruscate by itself,
scattering particles of colored light as if they had been real
sparks of fire.
This curious and beautiful exhibition of miniature
pyrotechnics was extremely interesting to the audience, who gazed
upward with rapt and eager attention at the line of wheels,
stars, and revolving spheres. So far as interest gave evidence
of satisfaction, there was never a better satisfied audience. At
first there had been some hushed murmurs of pleasure, but very
soon the attention of every one seemed so completely engrossed by
the dazzling display that they simply gazed in silence.
For twenty minutes or longer the glittering show went on, and
not a sign of weariness or inattention was made by any one of the
assembled company. Then gradually the colors of the little
fireworks faded, the stars and wheels revolved more slowly, the
lights in the body of the theatre were gradually raised, and the
stage curtain went softly down.
Anxiously, and a little pale, Herbert Loring peered through
the loophole in the curtain. It was not easy to judge of the
effects of his exhibition, and he did not know whether or not it
had been a success. There was no applause, but, on the other
hand, there was no signs that any one resented the exhibition as
a childish display of colored lights. It was impossible to look
upon that audience without believing that they had been
thoroughly interested in what they had seen, and that they
expected to see more.
For two or three minutes Loring gazed through his loophole,
and then, still with some doubt in his heart, but with a little
more color in his checks, he prepared for the second part of his
performance.
At this moment there entered the theatre, at the very back of
the house, a young lady. She was handsome and well dressed, and
as she opened the door--Loring had employed no ushers or other
assistants in this little social performance--she paused for a
moment and looked into the theatre, and then noiselessly
stepped to a chair in the back row and sat down.
This was Edith Starr, who, a month before, had been betrothed
to Herbert Loring. Edith and her mother had been invited to this
performance, and front seats had been reserved for them, for each
guest had received a numbered card. But Mrs. Starr had a
headache, and could not go out that afternoon, and for a time her
daughter had thought that she, too, must give up the pleasure
Loring had promised her, and stay with her mother. But when the
elder lady dropped into a quiet sleep, Edith thought that, late
as it was, she would go by herself, and see what she could of the
performance.
She was quite certain that if her presence were known to
Loring he would stop whatever he was doing until she had been
provided with a seat which he thought suitable for her, for he
had made a point of her being properly seated when he gave the
invitations. Therefore, being equally desirous of not disturbing
the performance and of not being herself conspicuous, she sat
behind two rather large men, where she could see the stage
perfectly well, but where she herself would not be likely to be
seen.
In a few moments the curtain rose, and Loring came forward,
carrying a small, light table, which he placed near the front of
the stage, and for a moment stood quietly by it. Edith noticed
upon his face the expression of uncertainty and anxiety which had
not yet left it. Standing by the side of the table, and speaking
very slowly, but so clearly that his words could be heard
distinctly in all parts of the room, he began some introductory
remarks regarding the second part of his performance.
"The extraordinary, and I may say marvellous, thing which I
am about to show you," he said, "is known among East Indian
magicians as the magic egg. The exhibition is a very uncommon
one, and has seldom been seen by Americans or Europeans, and it
was by a piece of rare good fortune that I became possessed of
the appliances necessary for this exhibition. They are indeed
very few and simple, but never before, to the best of my
knowledge and belief, have they been seen outside of India.
"I will now get the little box which contains the articles
necessary for this magical performance, and I will say that if I
had time to tell you of the strange and amazing adventure which
resulted in my possession of this box, I am sure you would be as
much interested in that as I expect you to be in the contents of
the box. But in order that none of you may think this is an
ordinary trick, executed by means of concealed traps or doors, I
wish you to take particular notice of this table, which is, as
you see, a plain, unpainted pine table, with nothing but a flat
top, and four straight legs at the corners. You can see under
and around it, and it gives no opportunity to conceal anything."
Then, standing for a few moments as if he had something else to
say, he turned and stepped toward one of the wings.
Edith was troubled as she looked at her lover during these
remarks. Her interest was great, greater, indeed, than that of
the people about her, but it was not a pleasant interest. As
Loring stopped speaking, and looked about him, there was a
momentary flush on his face. She knew this was caused by
excitement, and she was pale from the same cause.
Very soon Loring came forward, and stood by the table.
"Here is the box," he said, "of which I spoke, and as I hold
it up I think you all can see it. It is not large, being
certainly not more than twelve inches in length and two deep, but
it contains some very wonderful things. The outside of this box
is covered with delicate engraving and carving which you cannot
see, and these marks and lines have, I think, some magical
meaning, but I do not know what it is. I will now open the box
and show you what is inside. The first thing I take out is this
little stick, not thicker than a lead-pencil, but somewhat
longer, as you see. This is a magical wand, and is covered with
inscriptions of the same character as those on the outside of the
box. The next thing is this little red bag, well filled, as you
see, which I shall put on the table, for I shall not yet need it.
"Now I take out a piece of cloth which is folded into a very
small compass, but as I unfold it you will perceive that it is
more than a foot square, and is covered with embroidery. All
those strange lines and figures in gold and red, which you can
plainly see on the cloth as I hold it up, are also characters in
the same magic language as those on the box and wand. I will now
spread the cloth on the table, and then take out the only
remaining thing in the box, and this is nothing in the world but
an egg--a simple, ordinary hen's egg, as you all see as I hold it
up. It may be a trifle larger than an ordinary egg, but then,
after all, it is nothing but a common egg--that is, in
appearance. In reality it is a good deal more.
"Now I will begin the performance." And as he stood by the
back of the table, over which he had been slightly bending, and
threw his eyes over the audience, his voice was stronger, and his
face had lost all its pallor. He was evidently warming up with
his subject.
"I now take up this wand," he said, "which, while I hold it,
gives me power to produce the phenomena which you are about to
behold. You may not all believe that there is any magic whatever
about this little performance, and that it is all a bit of
machinery; but whatever you may think about it, you shall see
what you shall see.
"Now with this wand I gently touch this egg which is lying on
the square of cloth. I do not believe you can see what has
happened to this egg, but I will tell you. There is a little
line, like a hair, entirely around it. Now that line has become
a crack. Now you can see it, I know. It grows wider and wider!
Look! The shell of the egg is separating in the middle. The
whole egg slightly moves. Do you notice that? Now you can see
something yellow showing itself between the two parts of the
shell. See! It is moving a good deal, and the two halves of the
shell are separating more and more. And now out tumbles this
queer little object. Do you see what it is? It is a poor, weak,
little chick, not able to stand, but alive--alive! You can all
perceive that it is alive. Now you can see that it is standing
on its feet, feebly enough, but still standing.
"Behold, it takes a few steps! You cannot doubt that it is
alive, and came out of that egg. It is beginning to walk about
over the cloth. Do you notice that it is picking the embroidery?
Now, little chick, I will give you something to eat. This little
red bag contains grain, a magical grain, with which I shall feed
the chicken. You must excuse my awkwardness in opening the bag,
as I still hold the wand; but this little stick I must not drop.
See, little chick, there are some grains! They look like rice,
but, in fact, I have no idea what they are. But he knows, he
knows! Look at him! See how he picks it up! There! He has
swallowed one, two, three. That will do, little chick, for a
first meal.
"The grain seems to have strengthened him already, for see
how lively he is, and how his yellow down stands out on him, so
puffy and warm! You are looking for some more grain, are you?
Well, you cannot have it just yet, and keep away from those
pieces of eggshell, which, by the way, I will put back into the
box. Now, sir, try to avoid the edge of the table, and, to quiet
you, I will give you a little tap on the back with my wand. Now,
then, please observe closely. The down which just now covered
him has almost gone. He is really a good deal bigger, and ever
so much uglier. See the little pin-feathers sticking out over
him! Some spots here and there are almost bare, but he is ever
so much more active. Ha! Listen to that! He is so strong that
you can hear his beak as he pecks at the table. He is actually
growing bigger and bigger before our very eyes! See that funny
little tail, how it begins to stick up, and quills are showing at
the end of his wings.
Continued on Page 2
