"Nobody caned?" demanded his father, with--as I noticed--a sly
twinkle in his eye.

"No," replied young hopeful, after reflection; "no, I don't think
so," adding as an afterthought, as he tucked into beef and potatoes,
"'cepting, o' course, me."

[When the Daemon will not work]

It is a simple science, philosophy. The idea is that it never
matters what happens to you provided you don't mind it. The weak
point in the argument is that nine times out of ten you can't help
minding it.

"No misfortune can harm me," says Marcus Aurelius, "without the
consent of the daemon within me."

The trouble is our daemon cannot always be relied upon. So often he
does not seem up to his work.

"You've been a naughty boy, and I'm going to whip you," said nurse to
a four-year-old criminal.

"You tant," retorted the young ruffian, gripping with both hands the
chair that he was occupying, "I'se sittin' on it."

His daemon was, no doubt, resolved that misfortune, as personified by
nurse, should not hurt him. The misfortune, alas! proved stronger
than the daemon, and misfortune, he found did hurt him.