Septimus and the Magician, A Fable: Part 2

fter the show, Signor Mortiz, followed by Septimus and the monkey, found the dressing room of his impostor. There was a bowl of fruit, a bottle of spirits, and the man's street clothes and overcoat. He noticed a banana in the bowl and handed it to the monkey who climbed into the one good chair and deftly peeled the fruit and consumed it with a swiftness that made Mortiz momentarily think of how expensive a monkey would be as a pet. Septimus looked at the monkey and then at Signor Mortiz with a tinge of sadness in his expression, so Mortiz located the food his impostor had been feeding Septimus and he was soon crouched over his bowl, his attention slightly agitated by the strange antics of this long-armed creature sitting where the impostor used to sit.

Mortiz lit a cheroot and began to inspect the clothes, threadbare and worn at the edges, but tailored of very high quality materials. He discovered a number of folded papers, letters and cards in a pocket, and squinting at one of the calling cards through the smoke trailing up to his eyes, he coughed as he read the name: William McGlaughlin Esq. Turning to the monkey who was by now showing his teeth and grabbing his big toe with much glee, Signor Mortiz bent down and looked into the face of the monkey and a depressing weight of recognition washed over him, for he could see his father's eyes. He had not recognized his father on stage what with the fake beard, heavy make-up, wig and top hat worn to resemble the real Signor Mortiz, his son. The question as to whether his father had recognized him as he mounted the stage was the question that began to dominate his thoughts.

Signor Mortiz sat heavily upon a three-legged footstool and looked at the folded papers, letters and cards. The papers were mostly unpaid bills and letters demanding payments for various amenities. The calling cards were of two varieties, one in his father's name and one in the name of Signor Mortiz. His eyes read "Senior" Mortiz, and he let them drop to the dusty floor. . . .

Septimus and the Magician: a Fable

uring the mid-nineteenth century, the talented magician and ventriloquist, Signor Mortiz, travelled the North American continent charming audiences--to the chagrin of most clerics--and made a great name for himself. The Great Signor Mortiz became a name that any householder in any city would be familiar with. The great magician and ventriloquist, however, began to discover that impostors were living off his reputation, travelling in advance of him on his own circuit, calling themselves by his name and even using his advertising handbills. Some purported to be his son, others to be his nephew, but the majority of these impostors pretended to be the very man himself. It became commonplace, upon arriving in a city for a show, to be served with unpaid bills for food, lodging, clothing and other amenities, bills left unpaid by his impostors. The vexatious nature of these demands and the damage to his reputation were becoming much more than a nuisance, they were threatening his very means of existence.

One day, after leaving the constabulary office in a mid-western town after having explained he was not responsible for the unpaid bills there, he stopped to light a cheroot, and looking down to toss away the spent match, he noticed a rather tame old tom cat, a handsome thing he had to admit, and upon closer inspection, sporting seven toes on each front paw. It was at this moment that Signor Mortiz--his real name was really Walter McLaughlin--thought of employing this unusual feline as an accomplice. What is a necromancer without a cat he thought? And how could his impostors manage to duplicate his very unusual assistant. Looking down, he asked the cat if he would like to join Signor Mortiz on his travels and see a bit of the world, meals included. The Tom cat tilted his head and scratched his side with his hind leg in response, so Signor Mortiz threw his voice and replied on behalf of the cat that indeed that was an appealing offer and he would very much enjoy a bit of travel.

And so it was that Signor Mortiz made up new handbills advertising "Signor Mortiz and Septimus, the seven-toed cat."

But a year later, Septimus disappeared. Mortiz had been extremely careful in the security of his feline companion, but somehow he was outwitted. A month later, he found himself in a city jail, with numerous unpaid bills. The jailer was chuckling at his newspaper and wandered over to poor Signor Mortiz to show him that the real Signor Mortiz had entertained John Jacob Astor at a special event for the rich man at his home, and that it said Septimus the seven-toed cat dined on filet mignon. Signor Mortiz responded by saying he was the real Signor Mortiz. The jailer asked, "But where is your cat, Sir, where is your cat?"



After entertaining the police constables with his ability to throw his voice, Signor Mortiz was finally released and following up the newspaper article, he arrived at his imposter's advertised show the following week at The Egyptian Theatre. He found himself a seat at the extreme right of the stage and was appalled by the lack of talent of this impostor, and the degradation of his good name. Rising to his feet, Signor Mortiz made his way to the small staircase at the side of the stage and made his way up. He called out the name of his cat, and Septemus immediately sprang over to his true companion and wrapped himself around his pant leg. Addressing the audience, he told them that this man was not who he pretended to be, and throwing his voice into Septemus, the cat announced the other man an impostor. At this the audience roared with laughter. Signor Mortiz swept his large cape dramatically from his shoulders and approaching the impostor who was trying to get the house management to do something about his unwanted intruder, threw his cape over the impostor and with a puff of smoke, Signor Mortiz transformed this impostor into a monkey. Giving the monkey a large sheet of paper and a piece of charcoal, the monkey scrawled, to the astonishment of the audience, the words "Applause for the Magnificent Signor Mortiz," which Signor Mortiz held up for the audience to see. The crowd responded inspiring the monkey to a flurry of awkward imitation, and Signor Mortiz took his bow, deeper, longer and with more relish than he had ever experienced before, so much so, that he wondered if he were dreaming.

{inspired by the life of Signor Blitz, the real Signor Mortiz}