Miller’s attendant was so much confused by the watching, grimacing, and chuckling of the old gentleman that he omitted to place the gallipot in the hat which a gentleman of the party had lent for the purpose, and Miller poured the batter upon the pancake before he discovered the omission. He was not so ready-witted as Robert-Houdin showed himself on similar occasions, nor was his attendant so equal to the emergency as the French conjuror’s ministering imp proved in the face of such a disaster. They could only stare in bewilderment at the spoiled hat until Miller, recovering from his confusion, confessed his failure, explained the manner in which the trick is done, and threw the blame upon the inquisitive and chuckling old gentleman. Anderson, a juggler widely known in Europe as the “Wizard of the North,” during a provincial tour met with a strange adventure. One day, toward the conclusion of an engagement at Elgin, he visited Forres, a town twelve miles distant, to make arrangements for repeating his performance there, in the vicinity of the “blasted heath,” on which, according to tradition, Macbeth met the witches. Having made the requisite arrangements, he was directed by the printer to the residence of an elderly widow, who had apartments to let, which, proving suitable, were taken for one week. “You’ll excuse me, sir,” said the widow when he was about to depart, “but I maun tell ye I’m a puir widow, and a’ that I hae to live by is what I get by lettin’ my apartments. Ither folk hae engaged ’em, saying I might expect ’em on a certain day; but they didna come, sae I was disappointed. It’s an old sayin’, that ‘burnt bairns dreed the fire.’ Ye are a stranger, although a decent lookin’ man, and ye may do the same; sae I hope ye winna object to pay half o’ the rent aforehand.” Anderson made no objection, but at once handed four half-crowns to the old lady. At that moment he remembered that he must see the printer again before he left Forres, and, as the day, which had threatened to be a wet one, was fine, he left his umbrella with the widow, whose good opinion the payment in advance of one moiety of the week’s rent had quite secured. But, unfortunately, the widow read the words, _Great Wizard of the North_, on the handle of the umbrella when Anderson had left her; and he observed, on his return, that she trembled and changed color as she regarded him intently from head to foot, without venturing to approach him. “Save us!” she faintly ejaculated. “Wha are ye?” “I am a rather notorious character,” Anderson replied, with a smile, “and I have no doubt, although you have never seen me before, that you have heard of me. My name is Anderson, and I am known as the Wizard of the North.” “A weezard, are ye?” said the affrighted widow. “Then, for the love o’ guideness, gang oot o’ my house! I wadna lodge ye for ae night under my roof nae for a’ the world. For the love o’ heaven, gang awa, and tak your umbrella alang wi’ ye.”