The Two-Way Magic Hat

One of my favourite things to do with a traditional paperfolding design is to play around with it and see if it will yield something new. You might think that the possibilities inherent in traditional designs have already been explored so thoroughly that there is nothing new to discover … but I have found that this is often not the case.

Take the Magic Hat for instance (see the previous post). When I played around with it, I quickly realised that if you fold both sets of flaps inside the design, and interlock them, you end up with a locked triangle with openings in both short edges (see picture 6 below). Because this is a symmetrical form it can be developed into not one, but two, Magic Hats. Try it for yourself and see.

This is an example of a class of folded paper objects that I think of as Devious Devices. These objects can be flexed just for fun, or treated as puzzles or simple magical effects. The Two-Way Magic Hat is a particularly simple example of a Devious Device but it is still interesting to consider the various ways in which it could be used.

For instance, the Two-Way Magic Hat can be turned into a simple puzzle, which we might call ‘Squaring the Circle’, like this:

I suppose that, in the right hands, this could also function as a simple magical effect, of at least a prop for adding a surprise to a story, perhaps one rather like ‘The Tale of the Poisoner’s Hat’, which you can read below.

(I should add that this story is a rather obvious attempt to justify calling this blog Life, Death and Paperfolding.)

The Poisoner’s Hat needs to be prepared by decorating it with two chalices, in the way shown in picture 18, then flexed into a hat with the red chalice visible on the brim. This is how I would tell the story …

At their secret meetings, members of the Worshipful Guild of Poisoners wear a black hat decorated with a blood-red chalice. The Worshipful Guild is an ancient organisation dedicated to making sure that poisoners act in accordance with the Worshipful Guild’s Code of Practice.

There are two immutable rules in the code:

Never poison anyone except on purpose (and preferably for money).

Never tell anyone who is not a member of the Worshipful Guild about their rules or ceremonies.

Any member of the Worshipful Guild of Poisoners who breaks either of these immutable rules faces trial before the Poisoner’s Council. If found guilty, the penalty is death, by poisoning, of course.

There are rules about the conduct of the trial as well. One of which may seem rather odd to you. The rule states that the punishment must be carried out before the verdict is delivered. It gives rise to a rather strange form of trial.

I should make it clear at this point that I did not intend to poison my 7 year old niece. It was an accident. She wandered into my rooms uninvited, and against her mother’s firm instructions, and seeing what she thought was a chalice of Cherryade on my workbench she drank it. All. Death was instantaneous. I was heartbroken. Not only was my niece, of whom I was at least slightly fond, lying dead on my floor, but I had broken the first immutable rule - ‘Never poison anyone except on purpose.’

Imagine then, if you will, my trial for this offence. I sit in the dock, wearing my official poisoner’s hat, this hat which I have in my hands here, with a blood-red chalice on the brim. I have set out my defence, such as it is, and I await my sentence. I have little hope that my claim that I poisoned my niece on purpose will be believed. I am ordered to remove my hat, flatten it, and lay it on the edge of the dock in front of me. Later I will fold it back into a hat. If the chalice on the brim has changed from blood-red to white I have been found innocent. If not I have been found guilty and will die. I have never heard of the chalice on a Worshipful Poisoner’s hat changing colour in this way.

A glass of water is brought to me. I hesitate for a moment, then drink it down. It is either a glass of pure water or a glass containing pure water to which a clear, tasteless, but deadly, poison has been added. I cannot tell which of the two it is. The sentence has been carried out, but I am yet to learn the verdict. The poison does not kill instantaneously, but already I imagine I can feel it at work within me.

I pick up my flattened hat from the edge of the dock. I refold it into a hat. (At this stage hold the hat as shown in picture 19 above so that your audience cannot see the design on the brim.) I fold up the brim. (Do so.) A miracle has happened. The chalice has turned from red to white. I have been found innocent of breaking the immutable rules. The water was only water after all.

You may wonder, of course, how it is that I am telling you this, how it is that I am willing to risk death again by breaking the second immutable rule - ‘Never tell anyone who is not a member of the Worshipful Guild of Poisoners about their rules or ceremonies.’ Well … I will explain. All this happened long ago, and over the years the older members of the Worshipful Guild have aged and died, and it has proved impossible to recruit replacements. Young people these days have no interest in acquiring practical skills!

Eventually there were only three of us left. Reluctantly, we met and dissolved ourselves … or rather, we met … and I dissolved the others … in hydrochloric acid … after a little judicious poisoning, of course …