"'Now the subject of concentration is by no means new. It has been a success for centuries. The late Dr. Guph tells in his memoirs of a singular race of people known as the Flub Dubs who once dwelt on the lost isle of Atlantis. They were the greatest concentrators that ever lived. Every one thought that he was the greatest man in the world, and thought it so hard and so persistently that it came true--in a way. Naturally they aimed high, and every man thought himself the rightful king, and a strife arose over the crown, so that no one could wear it and many were slain in a great tussle. And when they were resting from their struggles one rose and said: "Kings of the realm, you are as the dust under my feet. I scorn you. A few minutes ago I decided to reverse my concentrator and aim at a higher goal. It was easy of attainment. I have suddenly become the biggest fool on this island and the humblest of all men." "'The announcement was greeted with great applause, and within three minutes his popularity had so enhanced that they put him on the throne. Such was the power of truth. And all confessed and joined his party, and he was known as the wisest king of the Flub Dubs. "'The moral that Dr. Guph adduces is this: You cannot make figs out of thistles, and unregulated concentration leads to trouble.' "Harry and I started for home in a deep silence. "'Hell!' I exclaimed, presently. "'And that reminds me that I feel like the king of the Flub Dubs,' said Harry. "'Which indicates that you are likely to decline the office,' I remarked. "'It's serious business--this matter of finding a wife,' he declared. "'What's the matter with Marie Benson?' I asked. 'There's a real woman and the best-looking girl in Connecticut.' "'Charming girl!' he exclaimed. 'But, dear boy! she talks too much.' "'That is a fault that could be remedied; and, after all, it's a kind of generosity. It's the very opposite of concentration.' "'Ah--if she would only reform!' he said. "'Leave that to me,' I answered, as he dropped me at my door." V IN WHICH SOCRATES DISCUSSES THE OVER-PRODUCTION OF TALK "Marie was my ward, and as pretty a girl as ever led a bulldog or ate a box of chocolates at a sitting. She was a charming fish-hook, baited with beauty and wealth and culture and remarkable innocence. She had dangled about on mama's rod and line for a year or so, but the fish wouldn't bite. For that reason I grabbed the rod from the old lady and put on a bait of silence and a sinker, and moved to deep water and began to do business.