Magick Without Tears

ON MEANNESS 347 happy, and the Bank note was in the hands of its original holder. Now then for True Story No.1. It is my own experience. When, nearly 40 years ago, I walked through Spain, accompanied only by a single chela, there was little paper money in use, at least in the rather primitive places which we favoured. The currency was confined to the silver peso, and its fractions. About 90 miles north of Madrid, we found, one fine morning, that our well-meant attempt to pay our bill at the posada threw a bombshell into the works: the people of the Inn jabbered and gesticulated among themselves for about half an hour before they produced our receipt, and bade us Hasta la vista! Next day, the same thing, rather worse. The day after, worse still; and we saw that they were disputing about the coins that we had handed over. Finally, about 20 miles from Madrid, they wouldn't take our money at all! Instead, they pointed out that we were English gentlemen, and they would be eternally honoured and grateful if we would send the money from Madrid! On arrival at that city, we noticed long queues of people besieging the Banks; I put my finger to my nose, and said Aha! But, sitting down at a cafe, oh no! not at all! Pesos were passing without question. Well, well! So I got into conversation with a knowledgeable-looking bloke, and he told me the whole story. It seemed that the Director of Customs had a brother in Mexico D.F. who manufactured brass bedsteads. The uprights of these were packed with forged pesos of Fernando VII and one other king-I forget his name-made of the same standard silver alloy as the genuine coins, and so well executed that the only way to tell the false was that they looked newer than they should have been, in view of the date! And so (continued my informant) there was a panic, and no one would take any money at all, and the city was dying on its feet! So the Government gave orders to