Now You See It. . .

About fifteen years ago the Ibis atop the Lampoon building took one of its sporadic off-season flgihts. It reappeared a few evenings later on a stage when Blackstone the Magician lifted a silk cloth. A cry of dismay was heard in the balcony as thirty humorists, lured to the theater by free tickets, scrambled toward the steps to retrieve the bird. Backstage at the Colonial Theatre last Saturday, Blackstone recalled the theft and chuckled "We should do it again."

Not only birds, but burros, rabbits, and ducks appear and disappear with Blackstone's aid. He has had to abandon, however, the most astounding of his stunts, the vanishing elephant. The beast was too big for road trips. A horse proved more mobile. With Blackstone in the saddle, the horse galloped into a tent which then collapsed. When the tent was removed, their stood the magician with the saddle in his hand. Years ago when he visited Cairo, the vanishing horse became a disappearing camel.

Older and wiser now, Blackstone has replaced four-footed animals with blondes and brunettes who obligingly allow him to stab and dismember them, or occasionally to lock them in coflins. The most eager of his helpers lies on a table where, in full view, a buzz saw runs through her midsection. After smiling at the two segments, he covers the gap with a cloth, and then smiles as the girl walks off the stage in one piece. His other tricks include dancing handkerchiefs, floating lightbulbs, and the appearance of an assistant in a glass box built on stage.

Occasionally, Blackstone puzzles himself as well as his audience. When he presented a bunny to a young fan, he asked:

"What will you name it?"

"Is it a boy or a girl?"

"Well, uh, it's just a . . . plain rabbit, yes, rabbit."

Later in the show he asked for volunteers who modestly raced down the aisle to the stage to tie Blackstone's hands (he escaped) and pick cards (he told them which).

After the performance on Saturday, Blackstone remained in his dressing room recounting his adventures to some admirers--a pastime, his wife said, which could last all night. The magician narrated a trip he once made to Washington, "When Coolidge was playing there."

"Now, Harry, that was when Coolidge was President," interrupted Mrs. Blackstone.

Undaunted, he continued: "They called me the only man that made the President laugh. When they introduced him, 'Gentlemen, the President of the United States, Calvin Coolidge,' I said, 'Pardon me, I didn't catch the name." Blackstone's interest in politics heightened when he was recommended for vice-president as "The only man who could fool the people."

In 1922 Blackstone challenged a carpenter's union to build a box that could hold him. Shortly afterwards he found himself tied fast, squeezed into a box measuring 40 inches square. He was lowered by crane into a fast-rushing river. But suddenly the shaft-pin broke and the box fell into the water. When Blackstone smashed thought the pine wood bottom and came to the surface, he was dangerously close to some falls. He was but feet from the edge when he freed himself from his ropes and grabbed a cable stretched across the river to keep boats from going over the falls.

Such stunts, he explained while he hung up his tuxedo coat, "were for my younger days!"