The Mesmerist Mistake
“Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to present, from the furthest Orient, Mr. Lu Ching, master of mysteries!”
A Chinese gentleman walked up on the stage. He looked rather unremarkable, save for his Oriental robes of blue and red, and a friendly smile splitting his face with a row of perfect, white teeth. He gently flicked his mustaches.
“Very glad to be here,” he said, taking a deep bow to the audience. “Have traveled upon entire world, so good to finally see Britain! In China, learned arts of Feng Shui and alchemy. In Araby, learned art of snake-charming and many interesting things. In India, learned mesmerism...”
“Poppycock!” came a shout from the audience, and the Oriental gentleman looked a little taken aback. Amelia Duchagne had stood up. “I can believe in alchemy and Feng Shui as natural expressions of chemistry and magnetism, and I commend your people deeply for discovering them, but surely mesmerism, or hypnotism as some call it, is merely fiction!”
“Oh? In that case, deeply apologize for presenting mere fiction to audience.” said the Chinese man with a deep bow. This did not seem enough for Amelia Duchagne, however, who strode up on stage, protesting: “There is nothing scientific about the so-called art of hypnotism. It is merely trickery, smoke and mirrors. If I had not intervened, I am sure Mr. Ching here would have brought up an accomplice to 'hypnotize', as it were.”
“Perhaps, if not too much trouble, lady would permit me to demonstrate?” inquired the gentleman.
“Try your best. Make me do something outrageous, if you can.” said Amelia Duchagne confidently, fixing him with her gaze. The man produced an amulet from the folds of his sleeve, and held it up before her eyes. He began to move it like a pendulum from side to side, all the while he chanted some magical words: “Nü Hai Zi Kuai Tuo Yi Fu”.
Nothing happened. The man returned the amulet to his sleeve, pressed his palms together, and bowed for the audience again. “Deeply apologize for presenting mere fiction to audience.” he repeated.
Dr. Duchagne turned to the audience, accustomed to holding scientific lectures. “We should not underestimate the mysteries of the Orient”, she said while she undid her corset. “In many fields, the Chinese are far more advanced than ourselves. The field of Feng Shui, for instance, may build upon principles of the Earths' magnetic field” - here she paused to pull her arms through her sleeves - “principles that we in Britain do not yet understand. Similarly, the Chinese alchemists have accomplished astonishing feats of chemistry.” She pulled her dress down to her waist as she removed the corset entirely.
“However, the fact that this man is trying to present mesmerism as a real science is enough to make me skeptic.” She stepped out of her shoes. “In all likelihood, he is little but a charlatan. A true Chinese scientist, or mystic if you prefer that term, would know the difference between truth and falsehood.”
Dr. Duchagne's naked breasts jumped a little as she turned towards Mr. Ching again. “You are free to continue your demonstrations, Mr. Ching, but I don't think I shall be attending. I have seen enough, to know you for a fraud.”
“Of course. Understand perfectly,” said Lu Ching with a polite bow. “Once more, do apologize to audience. Terribly sorry.”
“Good,” said Amelia Duchagne, shrugging off her open dress until it pooled around her feet. “Well, ladies and gentlemen, I must be on my way. Good day.”
“Ahem. Apologize, but lady has forgotten something.”
“What? Oh, of course,” blushed Amelia Duchagne, “How silly of me.” She pulled down her bloomers to around her ankles, and stepped out of them. “How embarrassing that I should forget. Well. Good day to you all.” she said with a polite curtsy to the audience, and left.
“Once more,” said Mr. Ching to the gaping audience, “Apologize for presenting mere fiction.”
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