"Now the feeling is coming into your arm. Nothing whatever has happened to it. You will feel no pain on regaining the feeling in that arm.

There will be nothing out of the ordinary. The arm will feel all right,"

As the pink color comes back into the arm, the physicians again feel the pulse and are surprised to find it normal. I will now take the same subject and produce anaesthesia in his face. Rubbing his right cheek gently with my hand I suggest that the feeling has all left his check and test him as I did with his arm. The feeling soon leaves and I take my needle and run it through his check. Again the doctors examine and again they pronounce their surprise. But I must give the audience something about this that has the element of humor in it, so I produce anaesthesia in the faces of both and tell them that they will open their eyes but will feel no pain whatever when I sew them together.

When they are on their feet with their eyes open? I take a needle and white thread and sew their lips together - that is, I pass the thread through the lips of one and then through the lips of the other and there they stand.

"Here you are sewed together. It is very funny and you are going to have a good hard laugh over it Laugh, it's funny!"

And as they burst out laughing at their peculiar plight, the audience is awakened from its chill and sees the funny side of the act. When they have had a laugh of a minute or so, I remove the stitches and give them powerful suggestions that they will feel nothing of it afterward and that there will be no blood at all. Seating them in their chairs, I put them to sleep and thank the doctors for the time and trouble of superintending the tests. As the physicians take their seats there is a loud applause and they naturally feel a trifle flattered. Besides, it serves as an advertisement for them and they lose nothing by obliging me.

The next act must be one of active somnambulism, so after I awaken these two subjects, I take two more boys and bring them forward.

In putting them to sleep, I will place them, facing the audience and looking at me. i stand a little to one side, so that they will be in full view of the house. "Look at me closely, don't let your eyes wander anywhere. You are no longer in the opera house; you are on the tops of two different stores and you are tight-rope walkers. When I tell you to walk you will find the long poles with which you are to balance yourselves at your sides and you will walk from one building to the other. You each have a rope, but they run parallel. Now, fasten your attention on me; you are tightrope walkers; ready, get your poles, walk, hurry, walk!"

'I ley each look around and grasp the imaginary poles. As they slide out carefully on their respective ropes, they look down with an expression that tells that they would rather be on the ground than in their dangerous positions. But they do bravely, balancing with great care as they go out over the street.

"Take great care," I caution them. "See, below you are large crowds and there are the boys holding the ropes, so that you will be more steady. When you get a little farther out, you can do some of your best work, balancing on one leg, walking backward, etc.!"

They obey my suggestions, but they look very funny going over the stage so carefully, their hands extended and tightly gripped onto something which does not exist.

When they get out a few steps, they start to balance on one leg and to get down close to the rope, one even lying upon the stage on his back, in the belief that he is upon the rope. He gets up very carefully and continues his feats. After they have had about two minutes of this professional exercise, I pass my hands before their faces and leave them staring blankly into space.

"Come, you are no longer tight-rope walkers; you are pugilists and you would like very much to strike each other, but the moment you get close enough to strike, you will be frozen solid; just as your hands are raised and you feel certain that you will strike. You are very angry at each other. Rush now!"

They grit their teeth, clench their fists and start for each other with the avowed intention of doing bodily harm, but, just as they raise their fists ready to strike, they are thrown into a condition of catalepsy and cannot move.

"No, you don't want to strike each other. You are old friends who have not met for a long time. Shake hands, you are so pleased to see one another again".

Their hard features melt at once into smiles and they grasp each other's hands with a fervor that is seldom seen in every-day life. But while they are shaking, I again change their expressions and attitudes by saying:

"Here, there must be some mistake. You people don't know each other; you never did know each other. Aren't you ashamed of yourselves to make a mistake like this in a crowded depot?"

They lose no time in loosening their grips and turn with their backs toward each other and look extremely downcast, feeling heartily ashamed of themselves for their serious mistake. This increases the merriment of the audience and the other subjects on the stage.

"Don't feel blue. Cheer up. Why, here, Charley, this is your sweetheart. Come right over here and hug her".

I bring them directly in front of the footlights and, when they are in each other's embrace, I bring them back to consciousness and light and they look at each other in dismay and seek their chairs in downcast silence. Notwithstanding their remorse at having been so horribly duped before their fellows, those same fellow-creatures cheer them as the stars of the evening so far, and if there is any hard feeling on the part of these two subjects, it vanishes, because they realize the uselessness of it all. The subject on the stage may often experience many little things unpleasant, but he is so dazed when he comes from his subconscious playground that he is in no position to resent his situation to any great extent. But each subject has the opportunity to have the laugh on some one else and that is compensaion, in the eyes of the average boy.