The Cairo Bulletin

Houdin, the Magician:
Ever since the capture of the strange Empire of India by the English, or for more than 100 years, the civilized people have been hearing of the marvelous feats performed by the native jugglers. Naturally, Houdin's announcement of the Indian basket trick made a great sensation. The curtain arose and disclosed a wicker basket of oblong shape standing upon what appeared to be a light table without any cloth cover upon it. The juggler entered, dragging a beautiful youth, dressed as an Indian Prince, wearing a robe of white cashmere embroidered with gold, while upon his head waved a peacock's plume held by a diamond star.
"Mercy! mercy!" cried the child.
"No-no mercy. You are an Indian, and a Prince, and must die," was the savage response.
"I am only a child," cried the innocent boy.
"That will not prevent my killing you."
With piercing shrieks the child broke away and rushed to the side wing, only to be seized there by his executioner, who, lifting him in his arms, plunged him into the basket, which he closed, strapping down the cover. Then he drew his sword, and, having tested its sharpness by striking it into the floor, he thrust it into the basket again and again, while the victim inside gave the most heart-rendering cries of pain and agony. Each time the sword was pulled out it was seen to be covered with blood, while the sobs and groans from inside the basket grew fainter and fainter, till at length they ceased, and a ghostly silence ensued. During the scene the excitement among the audience was intense. Ladies hid their faces behind their fans; some wept aloud; men shouted hoarsely, "Enough!" The smiling juggler bowed and proceeded to unstrap the basket, which he turned, mouth upwards, to the audience, showing it to be entirely empty.
In the midst of the applause which followed from the amused and relieved audience, the little Indian Prince was seen to be seated in a box in the center of the audience, kissing his tiny hand to those about him, as well as to his friend, the executioner, on the stage.
The trick was performed with the aid of looking-glasses inserted between the table-legs--a contrivance now commonly used in pantomimes and other show pieces upon our stage. But it was a new thing then, and the scene was remarkably well played by Houdin and the child. As soon as the boy got in the basket he opened a trap-door at the bottom of it, which was placed over a corresponding opening in the table. Hidden by the looking-glass, he crouched below between the table-legs, and shrieked and sobbed until the proper moment came for him to descend through a trap in the stage, and so pass around to the box in front of the theatre. A sponge full of red liquid was placed at a certain spot inside the basket. And the sword, passing through this, seemed to be dripping with blood. It was imperative that the juggler should not pass in front of the table, else his legs would have been reflected there and that would have disclosed the entire secret. Houdin became dissatisfied with this trick, and made many improvements in it, which the jugglers of our day have still further perfected. It is palpable that this cannot in the way in which Indian jugglers perform the trick in the market-place, or other public squares in broad daylight. They have no looking-glass tables, no traps through the earth. Houdin's theory concerning them was that their basket had an opening in it either at its front or its back, and that while buckling and strapping down the cover, with knee lifted up and pressed on the basket as if to tighten the leather strap more securely, the child crept out under the bent knee and hid beneath the voluminous robes of the juggler. Then, while the sword is piercing the basket and the child's sobs are most heart-rendering, the crowd gather into a compact mass about it, and into the crowd the child easily escapes without being seen, and runs away. At the proper moment he comes running back as if from a distance, and of course the astonishment of the crowd is unparalleled, for the basket has in the meantime been opened and shown to be empty.--From Harper's Magazine.