The same evening we return to the fair with some bread specially
prepared in our pockets, and as soon as the conjuror has performed
his trick, my little doctor, who can scarcely sit still, exclaims,
"The trick is quite easy; I can do it myself." "Do it then." He
at once takes the bread with a bit of iron hidden in it from his
pocket; his heart throbs as he approaches the table and holds out
the bread, his hand trembles with excitement. The duck approaches
and follows his hand. The child cries out and jumps for joy. The
applause, the shouts of the crowd, are too much for him, he is
beside himself. The conjuror, though disappointed, embraces him,
congratulates him, begs the honour of his company on the following
day, and promises to collect a still greater crowd to applaud his
skill. My young scientist is very proud of himself and is beginning
to chatter, but I check him at once and take him home overwhelmed
with praise.
The child counts the minutes till to-morrow with absurd anxiety.
He invites every one he meets, he wants all mankind to behold his
glory; he can scarcely wait till the appointed hour. He hurries to
the place; the hall is full already; as he enters his young heart
swells with pride. Other tricks are to come first. The conjuror
surpasses himself and does the most surprising things. The child
sees none of these; he wriggles, perspires, and hardly breathes;
the time is spent in fingering with a trembling hand the bit of
bread in his pocket. His turn comes at last; the master announces
it to the audience with all ceremony; he goes up looking somewhat
shamefaced and takes out his bit of bread. Oh fleeting joys of human
life! the duck, so tame yesterday, is quite wild to-day; instead
of offering its beak it turns tail and swims away; it avoids the
bread and the hand that holds it as carefully as it followed them
yesterday. After many vain attempts accompanied by derisive shouts
from the audience the child complains that he is being cheated,
that is not the same duck, and he defies the conjuror to attract
it.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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