I saw the bird trick for the first time at age 6, when I made my inaugural visit to California. We visited San Diego and saw Richie, my grandmother’s nephew, who was a magician and illusionist. He looked the part, with a black chevron mustache, curly hair and a wacky plaid shirt. He was a professional photographer, but his main skill, particularly around children, centered on correctly guessed Bicycle playing cards and disappearing quarters.

Richie ripped off two strips of tissue and wet them with his tongue before wrapping one around each pointer finger. On the living room carpet with his knees pressed to the ground, he sang a song:

Two little blue birds, sittin’ on a hill.

One named Jack, the other named Jill…

Fly away, Jack. Fly away, Jill.

Come back, Jack. Come back, Jill.

During the first line, Richie bounced his extended index fingers jauntily with all his other fingers tucked under his thumbs. In the second line of the ditty, he raised one finger, then the other, to give each Kleenex blue bird its due recognition. The third line heralded a peculiar disappearing act: Read more..

https://www.washingtonpost.com/posteverything/wp/2015/10/28/the-case-for-magic/