you my best performances the first
time, it was because a man ought not to be such a fool as to parade
everything he knows. I always take care to keep my best things for a
fit occasion; and I have others, too, to rebuke young and thoughtless
people. Besides, gentlemen, I am going to teach you, in the goodness
of my heart, the secret which puzzled you so much, begging that you
will not abuse your knowledge of it to injure me, and that another time
you will use more discretion."

Then he showed us his apparatus, and we saw, to our surprise, that it
consisted only of a powerful magnet moved by a child concealed beneath
the table. The man put up his machine again; and after thanking him
and making due apologies, we offered him a present. He refused,
saying, "No, gentlemen, I am not so well pleased with you as to accept
presents from you. You cannot help being under an obligation to me,
and that is revenge enough. But, you see, generosity is to be found in
every station in life; I take pay for my performances, not for my
lessons."

As he was going out, he reprimanded me pointedly and aloud. "I
willingly pardon this child," said he; "he has offended only through
ignorance. But you, sir, must have known the nature of his fault; why
did you allow him to commit such a fault? Since you live together,
you, who are older, ought to have taken the trouble of advising him;
the authority of your experience should have guided him. When he is
old enough to reproach you for his childish errors, he will certainly
blame you for those of which you did not warn him."[4]

He went away, leaving us greatly abashed. I took upon myself the blame
of my easy compliance, and promised the child that, another time, I
would sacrifice it to his interest, and warn him of his faults before
they were committed. For a time was coming when our relations would be
changed, and the severity of the tutor must succeed to the complaisance
of an equal. This change should be gradual; everything must be
foreseen, and that long beforehand.

The following day we returned to the fair, to see once more the trick
whose secret we had learned. We approached our juggling Socrates with
deep respect, hardly venturing to look at him. He overwhelmed us with
civilities, and seated us with a marked attention which added to our
humiliation. He performed his tricks as usual, but took pains to amuse
himself for a long time with the duck trick, often looking at us w