“We remember him,” said the oldest of those present. “If you have anything good to tell us about him, we shall be pleased to hear it. If it is anything bad, then keep it to yourself and we will flee to a new country where the spirit does not dwell.”
“The spirit is neither bad nor good,” said Two-Legs. “He is a force ... a strange, mysterious force, which I have not yet succeeded in discovering. I do not know if he is worth conquering and giving into your service even as I gave you the ox and the horse, the wind and Steam. I do not know how I am to conquer him. But I do know that it is not possible for one of us to flee from the electric spirit. For he dwells not only in the amber as you saw. He can take up his abode everywhere and in everything ... even in me ... even in every one of you.”
They pressed close together and gazed at him in alarm.
“Watch me now,” said Two-Legs. “Dismiss all your fears and look in wonder at what I shall show you.”
Two-Legs hung the little boy up between two ropes, so that he swung in the air at some height above the ground. Before him, from another cord, hung a glass tube. On the ground under him stood a bowl with little pieces of paper.
“I shall now rub the glass until the spirit comes forth,” said Two-Legs. “When that is done, the boy will touch the glass with one hand. The other he will hold at a distance above the bowl with the shreds of paper.”
He rubbed the glass tube and the boy did as he said.
“Look ... look!” said Two-Legs.
They stared and shouted with surprise. All the bits of paper leapt up and hung in the hand which the boy held over the dish.
“Do you see that?” asked Two-Legs. “He is electric. The spirit has taken up his abode in him.... Can you all see it?”