My first purchase was for the Blooming Rose Bush. With an empty flowerpot, a magic seed and a square of cloth, a bush of roses could be magically produced, all at a cost of 50 cents. I can still remember the name and address. It was the Quackenbush Magic Co. of Big Flats, N.Y.

Everyone who has answered a mail-order advertisement knows the agonizing wait that occurs before the goods arrive. To us, in Canada, it was even more frustrating as material ordered in the United States had to come through the Customs where duty was levied and the increased cost is a burden that has been a constant annoyance to all magicians, young and old.

But finally, the notice arrived and I had to make the trip downtown and line up, card in hand, in the long wooden Customs shed. Just how I managed this trip I cannot remember. Most likely took the streetcar or, I may have walked one way. The Customs shed was, at least four or five miles from my home. I do know that I had not informed anyone about the purchase the idea being to surprise everyone with the magical appearance of the rose bush. It had occurred to me to seek the assistance of a boy friend to help with the parcel, which with flowerpot and flowers, might be in two parcels and, perhaps with packing, too heavy to handle alone. But as far as I can remember, I decided to make the journey on my own.

This was my earliest experience importing material from the United States, but was repeated, many times, in future years.

Finally, my spot in the line-up reached the wicket of the Customs officer and I handed in the card they had sent me. When I assured him that I had not received an invoice but in answer to the query as to what the parcel consisted of and its possible size, I explained that it was a flowerpot and flowers with probably a booklet of instructions. I could only guess at the size. “Probably a box about a foot square.”

He seemed to be away a long time and finally emerged from the corridors of cartons and packing cases carrying a little package about the size of a box of cough drops. Although I felt there must be some mistake, he assured me that the label had my name and address.

He slashed at the package with a knife, and cut the string, tore off the brown paper and there I saw, for the first time, the Great Rose Bush Mystery. It consisted of a tiny wooden flowerpot about the size of a large thimble, along with a similar pot in which a sort of twig was fastened, sporting a piece of coloured cloth, supposedly a flower. In addition to these tiny toy-like pots, there was an eight-inch square of patterned cretonne and a piece of paper, three inches by six inches, containing the full and complete instructions for the Mysterious Rose Bush.

I know, now, that just about everyone who has ordered magic from a catalogue or advertisement has had this same, terrible let-down feeling, when they first discover what is received for their money. It should be the lesson that prevents us from repeating the event but so many of us had stars in our eyes, or a bandage that blinded us, for we repeated the procedure time after time.

One of my earliest magical friends, Gene Gordon, was the only magician I know who had exactly the same experience with the Mysterious Rose Bush. But he received his direct; he didn’t have to line up in the Customs to be embarrassed by a group of smiling officials who read the instructions and performed the great mystery amid the laughter of staff and customers.

As you may have guessed, it was not a difficult trick; you merely concealed the pot with the flower in the cloth as you covered the empty pot. First you covered it with the cloth. Under the cover you merely exchanged one pot with the other and snatching away the cloth, together with the hidden empty pot, you revealed the so- called, rose sprouting magically where all could see.

It was a disappointment, from a magical point of view. I can’t remember having performed it for anyone although I kept it for several years and often practiced in front of a mirror but was never convinced as to its effectiveness.

I suppose it was lost along with many other questionable tricks during the years. But Gene Gordon doesn’t throw things away. During a Roast at the annual Fechter gathering in Buffalo, Gene brought along his original flowerpot when I was Guest of Honour and ‘twas my seventieth birthday.

That Rosebush purchase from the Quackenbush Company was the actual beginning of my mail order purchasing of magic. I sent away for Card to Rose – the Vanishing Deck of Cards and one or two others.

Rose bushes not as actually shown!