"It will be some time before you look old enough for a magician. When
you are, I'll give you my blessing and send you out."
Meanwhile they had been jogging along, and were already in the main
street of Conway. The professor drew up in front of the village hotel,
and a groom came forward and took his horse.
"Wait a minute my friend," said the professor. "Harry, you can help me
take my implements out of the back of the wagon."
These "implements" were of a heterogeneous character, but all would
come in use in the evening. A number of boys watched their transfer
with mingled awe and curiosity.
"What's them?" Harry heard one ask another, in a half-whispered tone.
"Those," said the professor, in an impressive tone, turning toward the
boys. "Those are paraphernalia!"
The boys looked more awestruck than ever. All inwardly resolved to go
to the Town Hall that evening, and get a nearer view of the articles
which had such a grand name.
After a while Harry came downstairs from the room assigned him, and
stood on the piazza.
One of the boys drew near him cautiously.
"Are you the magician's son?" he asked.
"No," answered Harry, smiling.
"Do you come from Madagascar?"
"I have not been there recently."
"Are all the people there magicians?"
"Not quite all.
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