“Now, if there were two spirits,” he said, “if the spark came and then the two rushed towards each other, if the powerful force were just the attraction of one for the other ...”
“Is that it?” asked the disciple.
“I don’t know,” said Two-Legs. “I could see and feel the wind; and the same with Steam. I discovered, at length, where he came from and where he was going. But I don’t know what the mighty spirit of electricity is, for all the years that I have been watching him. Perhaps I shall never come to know. But we will explore his ways nevertheless, diligently, by day and by night.”
He hammered wires of iron and zinc, of copper and silver, twisted them together, bent them against one another, rubbing them with the magnet and with the leather and with anything else that he could hit on. Gradually, he had no room for all of this in his house; and then he threw it outside the door.
9
One evening, he and his disciple were sitting on the bench before the wall, tired with their fruitless labours. They gazed at the sun until it went down. Then twilight fell upon the land.
Two-Legs looked at a fat old toad who came crawling from under the threshold.
He moved his legs heavily and looked with his frightened eyes at Two-Legs and wondered if he meant him any harm. Then he crawled on ... under some wire that lay there. And, as the toad touched the wire, he jumped as if he had been struck a blow.
Two-Legs saw it, for he saw everything. He saw how the toad again touched the wires and again jumped. He stooped down and saw that it was copper-wire and zinc-wire. He saw that the toad jumped highest when he touched both wires. He caught the toad and held him in his hand and put both the wires to him. The toad gave a start. And, every time he touched him with the wire, he started afresh.