Games
Conjuring Tricks
Self-Defence
In the midst of my studies and other interests, such as singing, music, speech training, and dramatics, which I undertook wholeheartedly, I also learned a variety of new games: card tricks, marbles, quoits, walking on stilts, running and jumping, all of which I enjoyed and in which I was by no means mediocre, even if I was no champion. Some of these activities I had learned at Murialdo, others at Chieri. If in the fields of Murialdo I was only a beginner, that year I developed into something of a master. At that time, not much was known about these sports because they had not been much publicised; so in the popular estimate they were a source of wonder.
What shall I say of these skills? I often gave performances both in public and in private. Since I had an exceptional memory, I knew by heart long passages from the classics, the poets particularly. I could quote at will from Dante, Petrarch, Tasso, Parini, Monti, and others as if they were my own. Likewise, I could thus improvise without any trouble. In those entertainments or concerts, sometimes I sang, sometimes I played an instrument, or sometimes I composed verses which were highly praised – though in reality they were nothing more than excerpts from various authors adapted for the occasion. That is why I have never given any of my compositions to anyone. Whatever I did write down, I have burned.
Conjuring was a source of wonder. People sat wide-eyed at the sight of an endless stream of balls coming out of a little box too small to hold even one, or eggs tumbling out of a little bag. But when they saw me producing balls from bystanders’ noses, or heard me tell accurately how much money people had in their pockets, or when they watched me crush coins to dust between my fingers, my audiences got frightened and even lost their heads; they began to whisper that I was a sorcerer, that I had to be in league with the devil.
My landlord, Thomas Cumino, added to the credibility of this idea. Thomas was a fervent Christian, and he loved a joke. I knew how to take advantage of his character, and I would say, his simplicity, to embarrass him thoroughly. One day, for his feast day he had very carefully prepared chicken and jelly as a treat for his lodgers. But when he carried the dish to the table and uncovered it, out popped a live cock, flapping about and cackling in a thousand ways. Another time he had a pot of macaroni cooked and ready to serve, but at the last moment he found the pot full of dry bran. Sometimes when he filled the bottle with wine, he would find as he poured it out that it had turned to water. When he wanted a drink of water, he would find his glass full of wine instead. Sweets changed into pieces of bread, coins in his purse into pieces of rusty tin. A hat became a nightcap; nuts changed into pebbles right in the sack. These were everyday occurrences.
Thomas was nonplussed. These things are not human, he would mutter to himself. God does not waste time with such frivolities.
It must be the work of the devil.
He did not dare mention these matters at home, so he sought advice from a nearby priest, Fr Bertinetti. Suspecting white magic as the explanation of these tricks, he decided to refer the matter to the school superintendent, who was at that time a respected cleric, Canon Burzio, archpriest and parish priest of the cathedral.
The canon was a learned man, pious and prudent, and without speaking to others asked to see me. When I arrived at his house, I found him saying his Office. Smiling at me, he made a sign for me to wait. When he had finished, he asked me to follow him into his study. There he began to question me, very politely, but with a serious look.
My friend, so far I am quite pleased with your conduct and the progress you have made in your studies. Now, however, you are the subject of much talk. They tell me you are a mind-reader, that you can guess how much money people have in their pockets, that you can make black seem white, that you can tell what is happening at a distance, and similar things. That makes people talk about you. In fact, some have gone farther and suspect you of being a sorcerer or even that the devil is at work here. Tell me now, who taught you this knowledge? Where did you pick it up? Tell me everything in complete confidence. I assure you that I will not use it except for your own good.
Keeping a straight face, I asked him for a few minutes to think over my reply. Then I asked him to tell me what time it was. He put his hand into his pocket, but his watch was not there.
If you haven’t got your watch, I suggested, could you give me a five-soldi coin?
He checked all his pockets but could not find his purse.
You rascal, he shouted angrily.
Either you are the devil’s servant, or he’s yours! You’ve already stolen my purse and my watch. I can’t keep quiet any longer; I must denounce you. Even now I don’t know what keeps me from giving you a good thrashing.
But when he saw that I was smiling serenely, he took hold of himself and went on more calmly.
Now let’s take this quietly. Explain these mysteries to me. How was it possible for my watch and my purse to vanish from my pocket unknown to me. Where are they?
Well, Father, I began respectfully, I’ll explain in a few words.
It’s all a matter of sleight of hand, information, and preparation.
What information could you have about my watch and purse?
I’ll explain it all quickly. Just after I came in, you gave some alms to a beggar. You left your purse on a prie-dieu. Then you went into another room, leaving your watch on that side-table. I hid them both; you thought you had them on your person, while they were really under this lampshade.
So saying, I lifted the lampshade and recovered both objects that the devil was supposed to have taken away.
The good canon had a hearty laugh. He asked me to give him a demonstration of sleight-of-hand, and how to make things appear and disappear. He enjoyed it all and gave me a little gift. Finally, he told me,
Go and tell your friends that wonderment is the result of ignorance.