t has no business to be, have chanced to be thrown.
This is torture. My cue is to turn into the Irishman's echo, which
always returned for his "How d'ye do?" a "Pretty well, thank you." I
cling to the skirts of that member of the party who is agreed to have
the best taste and echo his responses an octave higher. If he sighs at
the end of a song, I bring out my pocket-handkerchief. If he says
"charming," I murmur "delicious." If he thinks it "exquisite," I
pronounce it "enchanting." Where he is rapt in admiration, I go into a
trance, and so shamble through the performances, miserable impostor
that I am, and ten to one nobody finds out that I am a dunce, fit for
treason, stratagem, and spoils. It is a great strain upon the mental
powers, but it is wonderful to see how much may be accomplished, and
what skill may be attained, by long practice.

Also one may go to a concert as a conductor with a single musical
friend. By conductor I do not mean escort, but a magnetic conductor,
rapture conductor, a fit medium through which to convey away his
delight, so that he shall not become surcharged and explode. He does
not take you for your pleasure, nor for his own, but for use. He
desires some one to whom he can from time to time express his opinions
and his enthusiasm, sure of an attentive listener,--since nothing is so
pleasant as to see one's views welcomed. Now you cannot pretend that
in such a case your listening is thoroughly honest. You are receptive
of theories, criticisms, and reminiscences; but you would not like to
be obliged to pass an examination on them afterwards. You do, it must
be confessed, sometimes, in the midst of eloquent dissertations, strike
out into little flowery by-paths of your own, quite foreign to the
grand paved-ways along which your friend supposes he is so kind as to
be leading you. But however digressive your mind may be, do not suffer
your eyes to digress. Whatever may be the intensity of your ennui,
endeavor to preserve an animated expression, and your success is
complete. This is all that is necessary. You will never be called
upon for notes or comments. Your little escapades will never be
detected. It is not your opinions that were sought, nor your education
that was to be furthered. You were only an escape-pipe, and your
mission ceased when the soul of song fled and the gas was turned off.
This, too, is all that can justly be demanded. Minister, lecturer,
singer, no one has an