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Набалдашник и метла

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come over you lately, Charlie?
You're no fun anymore.
Help me to tidy up the bed, Carrie.
We don't want to go to London
with an unmade bed.
- How old is Charles?
- Eleven, going on twelve.
I see. That's what my father used
to call "the age of not believing".
What's that supposed to be?
When you rush around
in hopeless circles
Searching everywhere
for something true
You're at the age
of not believing
When all the make-believe
is through
That's Charlie to a "T."
When you set aside
your childhood heroes
And your dreams are lost
upon a shelf
You're at the age
of not believing
And worst of all
you doubt yourself
Throw that
into the wastebasket.
You're a castaway
where no one hears you
On a barren isle
in a lonely sea
What's that supposed to be,
poetry?
Where did all
the happy endings go
Where can all
the good times be
Everyone on the bed
who's going.
You must face the age
of not believing
Doubting everything you ever knew
The knob, Paul.
Until at last you start believing
There's something wonderful in you
Lovely sentiment,
I'm sure.
- Are you ready, Paul?
- Yes, Miss Price.
Now, when I say go,
tap the knob three times
and turn it a quarter turn to the left.
- Left.
- That's it.
Now, we better hold on tight.
The behavior of the bed
is something I'm not quite sure of.
Here, let me breathe a little.
All right, Paul?
Ready... go.
One, two, three.
Nothing happened.
- That's very odd.
- I told you it wouldn't work.
Of course.
How stupid of me.
We didn't tell the object
where we wanted to go.
Now, Paul, repeat after me.
Take us to Professor
Emelius Browne.
Take us to Professor...
- Emelius Browne.
- Very good.
Headmaster,
Correspondence
College of Witchcraft.
Headmaster,
Correspondence College...
Of Witchcraft, London.
Of Witchcraft, London.
Now, go.
One, two, three.
- Is this London?
- Of course it is.
- Can't you smell that lovely sooty air?
- Marvelous, ain't it?
- Well, Charles, are you convinced by now?
- Not yet, I ain't.
- I don't see no Professor Browne.
- Neither do I, in point of fact.
You children look after the bed
while I make inquiries for Mr. Browne.
I told you this flaming bed
wouldn't work.
- Oh, Charlie, don't start that again.
- It didn't work proper.
- This bed was supposed
to take us to Professor Browne.
- Look!
Professor Browne.
Come on.
Oy, wait a moment.
We can't leave the bed there.
Push.
- Which way did he go?
- I don't know. Let's try this.
- Push!
- Hurry up!
Ladies and gentlemen, gather 'round,
please! Ladies and gentlemen!
Please note the name, ladies and
gentlemen- Professor Emelius Browne.
I am here to divert,
to amuse and, yes, even to help you.
How can I enrich your lives?
My humble talents
are at your command.
Ah, madam,
what have we here?
- You said you were stony broke.
- I don't keep money in me ear.
- It's a trick.
- Yes, madam, a trick.
Or to use a kinder word,
an illusion.
But what isn't,
in these troubled times?
We live in a world
of fakery and false images.
There he is!
It is not what things are.
It is what they seem to be.
Is that not so, madam?
That ain't the kind
of professor I expected.
I'm not sure it's the kind of professor
Miss Price expected either.
You see, it really doesn't matter
what I do, what I do,
as long as I do it...
with a flair.
What effect
a little smoke is.
With a dash of hocus-pocus
and the scent of burning-
And the scent of burning
sulphur in the air.
I'm a fraud, a hoke
a charlatan, a joke
- But they love me everywhere
- Thank you!
Thank you!
And now, ladies and gentlemen,
for my next trick,
may I draw your attention to this
solid piece of ordinary window glass...
framed in an ordinary
unprepared frame.
May I also draw your attention
to this perfectly ordinary steel nail.
Now, I shall place
the framed glass...
in this brown, unprepared- unprepared,
mark you, ladies and gentlemen...
unprepared brown paper bag.
Набалдашник и метла Набалдашник и метла

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