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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/18881-8.txt b/18881-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..57bc2d1 --- /dev/null +++ b/18881-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,3007 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Idiot, by John Kendrick Bangs + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: The Idiot + + +Author: John Kendrick Bangs + + + +Release Date: July 20, 2006 [eBook #18881] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE IDIOT*** + + +E-text prepared by Suzanne Shell, Mary Meehan, and the Project Gutenberg +Online Distributed Proofreading Team (https://www.pgdp.net/) + + + +Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this + file which includes the original illustrations. + See 18881-h.htm or 18881-h.zip: + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/8/8/8/18881/18881-h/18881-h.htm) + or + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/8/8/8/18881/18881-h.zip) + + + + + +THE IDIOT + +by + +JOHN KENDRICK BANGS + +Author of "Coffee and Repartee" "The Water Ghost, and Others" "Three +Weeks in Politics" Etc. + +Illustrated + + + + + + + +New York +Harper & Brothers Publishers +1895 +Copyright, 1895, by Harper & Brothers. +All rights reserved. + + + + +TO WILLIAM K. OTIS + + + + +ILLUSTRATIONS + + + "CERTAINLY. I ASKED FOR ANOTHER CUP" + + "THE NUISANCE OF HAVING TO PAY" + + "SHE COULD NOT POSSIBLY GET ABOARD AGAIN" + + "DEMANDS TICKETS FOR TWO" + + "THEY ARE GIVEN TO REHEARSING AT ALL HOURS" + + "'HA! HA! I HAVE HIM NOW!'" + + "HAS YOUR FRIEND COMPLETED HIS ARTICLE ON OLD JOKES?" + + THEY DEPARTED + + "YOU FISH ALL DAY, AND HAVE NO LUCK" + + HE COULD BE HEARD THROWING THINGS ABOUT + + "HE WAS NOT MURDERED" + + "SUPERINTENDENT SMITHERS HAS NOT ABSCONDED" + + THE INSPIRED BOARDER PAID HIS BILL + + "I KNOW YOU CAN'T, BECAUSE IT ISN'T THERE" + + "YOU CAN MAKE YOURSELF HEARD IN SAN FRANCISCO" + + THE PROPHETOGRAPH + + "I GRASPED IT IN MY TWO HANDS" + + "PIANO-PLAYING ISN'T ALWAYS MUSIC" + + "THE MOON ITSELF WILL BE USED" + + "DECLINES TO BE RIDDEN" + + "THE BIBLIOMANIAC WOULD BE RAISING BULBS" + + "DIDN'T KNOW ENOUGH TO CHOOSE HIS OWN FACE" + + "JANITORS HAVE TO BE SEEN TO" + + "MY ELOQUENCE FLOATED UP THE AIR-SHAFT" + + + + +THE IDIOT + + + + +I + + +For some weeks after the happy event which transformed the popular Mrs. +Smithers into the charming Mrs. John Pedagog all went well at that lady's +select home for single gentlemen. It was only proper that during the +honey-moon, at least, of the happy couple hostilities between the Idiot +and his fellow-boarders should cease. It was expecting too much of +mankind, however, to look for a continued armistice, and the morning +arrived when Nature once more reasserted herself, and trouble began. Just +what it was that prompted the remark no one knows, but it happened that +the Idiot did say that he thought that, after all, life on a canal-boat +had its advantages. Mr. Pedagog, who had come into the dining-room in a +slightly irritable frame of mind, induced perhaps by Mrs. Pedagog's +insistence that as he was now part proprietor of the house he should be +a little more prompt in making his contributions towards its maintenance, +chose to take the remark as implying a reflection upon the way things +were managed in the household. + +"Humph!" he said. "I had hoped that your habit of airing your idiotic +views had been put aside for once and for all." + +"Very absurd hope, my dear sir," observed the Idiot. "Views that are not +aired become musty. Why shouldn't I give them an atmospheric opportunity +once in a while?" + +"Because they are the sort of views to which suffocation is the most +appropriate end," snapped the School-Master. "Any man who asserts, as you +have asserted, that life on a canal-boat has its advantages, ought to go +further, and prove his sincerity by living on one." + +"I can't afford it," said the Idiot, meekly. "It isn't cheap by any +manner of means. In the first place, you can't live happily on a +canal-boat unless you can afford to keep horses. In fact, canal-boat life +is a combination of the most expensive luxuries, since it combines +yachting and driving with domesticity. Nevertheless, if you will put your +mind on it, you will find that with a canal-boat for your home you can do +a great many things that you can't do with a house." + +"I decline to put my mind on a canal-boat," said Mr. Pedagog, sharply, +passing his coffee back to Mrs. Pedagog for another lump of sugar, +thereby contributing to that good lady's discomfiture, since before their +marriage the mere fact that the coffee had been poured by her fair hand +had given it all the sweetness it needed; or at least that was what the +School-Master had said, and more than once at that. + +"You are under no obligation to do so," the Idiot returned. "Though if I +had a mind like yours I'd put it on a canal-boat and have it towed away +somewhere out of sight. These other gentlemen, however, I think, will +agree with me when I say that the mere fact that a canal-boat can be +moved about the country, and is in no sense a fixture anywhere, shows +that as a dwelling-place it is superior to a house. Take this house, for +instance. This neighborhood used to be the best in town. It is still far +from being the worst neighborhood in town, but it is, as it has been for +several years, deteriorating. The establishment of a Turkish bath on one +corner and a grocery-store on the other has taken away much of that air +of refinement which characterized it when the block was devoted to +residential purposes entirely. Now just suppose for a moment that this +street were a canal, and that this house were a canal-boat. The canal +could run down as much as it pleased, the neighborhood could deteriorate +eternally, but it could not affect the value of this house as the home of +refined people as long as it was possible to hitch up a team of horses to +the front stoop and tow it into a better locality. I'd like to wager +every man at this table that Mrs. Pedagog wouldn't take five minutes to +make up her mind to tow this house up to a spot near Central Park, if it +were a canal-boat and the streets were water instead of a mixture of +water, sand, and Belgian blocks." + +"No takers," said the Bibliomaniac. + +"Tutt-tutt-tutt," ejaculated Mr. Pedagog. + +[Illustration: "THE NUISANCE OF HAVING TO PAY"] + +"You seem to lose sight of another fact," said the Idiot, warming up to +his subject. "If man had had the sense in the beginning to adopt the +canal-boat system of life, and we were used to that sort of thing, it +would not be so hard upon us in summer-time, when we have to live in +hotels in order that we and our families may reap the benefits of a +period of country life. We could simply drive off to that section of the +country where we desired to be. Hotels would not be needed if a man could +take his house along with him into the fields, and one phase of life +which has more bad than good in it would be entirely obliterated. There +is nothing more disturbing to the serenity of a domestic man's mind than +the artificial manner of living that prevails in most summer hotels. The +nuisance of having to pay bills every Monday morning under the penalty of +losing one's luggage would be obviated, and all the comforts of home +would be directly within reach. The trouble incident upon getting the +trunks packed and the children ready for a long day's journey by rail, +and the fatigue arising from such a journey, would be reduced to a +minimum. The troubles attendant upon going into a far country, and +leaving one's house in the sole charge of a lot of servants for a month +or two every year, would be done away with entirely; and if at any time +it became necessary to discharge one of these servants, she could be put +off the boat in an instant, and then the boat could be pushed out into +the middle of the canal, so that the discharged domestic could not +possibly get aboard again and take her revenge by smashing your crockery +and fixtures. That is one of the worst features of living in a stationary +house. You are entirely at the mercy of vindictive servants. They know +precisely where you live, and you cannot escape them. They can come back +when there is no man around, and raise several varieties of Ned with your +wife and children. With a movable house, such as the canal-boat would be, +you could always go off and leave your family in perfect safety." + +[Illustration: "SHE COULD NOT POSSIBLY GET ABOARD AGAIN"] + +"How about safety in a storm?" asked the Bibliomaniac. + +"Safety in a storm?" echoed the Idiot. "That seems an absurd sort of a +question to one who knows anything about canal-boats. I, for one, never +heard of a canal-boat being seriously damaged in a storm as long as it +was anchored in the canal proper. It certainly isn't any more dangerous +to be in a canal-boat in a storm than it is to be in a house that +offers resistance to the winds, and is shaken from roof to cellar at +every blast. More houses have been blown from their foundations than +canal-boats sunk, provided ordinary care has been taken to protect +them." + +"And you think the canal-boat would be healthy?" asked the Doctor. "How +about dampness and all that?" + +"That is a professional question," returned the Idiot, "which I think you +could answer better than I. I don't see why a canal-boat shouldn't be +healthy, however. The dampness would not amount to very much. It would be +outside of one's dwelling, and not within it, as is the case with so many +houses. A canal-boat having no cellar could not have a damp one, and if +by some untoward circumstance it should spring a leak, the water could +be pumped out at once and the leak plugged up. However this might be, +I'll offer another wager to this board on that point, and that is that +more people die in houses than on canal-boats." + +"We'd rather give you our money right out," retorted the Doctor. + +"Thank you," said the Idiot. "But I don't need money. I don't like money. +Money is responsible for more extravagance than any other commodity in +existence. Besides, it and I are not intimate enough to get along very +well together, and when I have any I immediately do my level best to rid +myself of it. But to return to our canal-boat, I note a look of +disapproval in Mr. Whitechoker's eyes. He doesn't seem to think any +more of my scheme than do the rest of you--which I regret, since I +believe that he would be the gainer if land edifices were supplanted by +the canal system as proposed by myself. Take church on a rainy morning, +for instance. A great many people stay at home from church on rainy +mornings just because they do not want to venture out in the wet. Suppose +we all lived in canal-boats? Would not people be deprived of this flimsy +pretext for staying at home if their homes could be towed up to the +church door? Or, better yet, granting that the churches followed out the +same plan, and were themselves constructed like canal-boats, how easy it +would be for the sexton to drive the church around the town and collect +the absentees. In the same manner it would be glorious for men like +ourselves, who have to go to their daily toil. For a consideration, Mrs. +Pedagog could have us driven to our various places of business every +morning, returning for us in the evening. Think how fine it would be for +me, for instance, instead of having to come home every night in an +overcrowded elevated train or on a cable-car, to have the office-boy come +and announce, 'Mrs. Pedagog's Select Home for Gentlemen is at the door, +Mr. Idiot.' I could step right out of my office into my charming little +bedroom up in the bow, and the time usually expended on the cars could be +devoted to dressing for tea. Then we could stop in at the court-house for +our legal friend; and as for Doctor Capsule, wouldn't he revel in driving +this boarding-house about town on his daily rounds among his patients?" + +"What would become of my office hours?" asked the Doctor. "If this house +were whirling giddily all about the city from morning until night, I +don't know what would become of my office patients." + +"They might die a little sooner or live a little longer, that is all," +said the Idiot. "If they weren't able to find the house at all, however, +I think it would be better for us, for much as I admire you, Doctor, I +think your office hours are a nuisance to the rest of us. I had to elbow +my way out of the house this morning between a double line of sufferers +from mumps and influenza, and other pleasingly afflicted patients of +yours, and I didn't like it very much." + +"I don't believe they liked it much either," returned the Doctor. "One +man with a sprained ankle told me about you. You shoved him in passing." + +"Well, you can apologize to him in my behalf," returned the Idiot; "but +you might add that he must expect very much the same treatment whenever +he and a boy with mumps stand between me and the door. Sprained ankles +aren't contagious, and I preferred shoving him to the other alternative." + +The Doctor was silent, and the Idiot rose to go. "Where will the house be +this evening about six-thirty, Mrs. Pedagog?" he asked, as he pushed his +chair back from the table. + +"Where? Why, here, of course," returned the landlady. + +"Why, yes--of course," observed the Idiot, with an impatient gesture. +"How foolish of me! I've really been so wrapped up in my canal-boat ideal +that I came to believe that it might possibly be real and not a dream, +after all. I almost believed that perhaps I should find that the house +had been towed somewhere up into Westchester County on my return, so that +we might all escape the city's tax on personal property, which I am told +is unusually high this year." + +With which sally the Idiot kissed his hand to Mr. Pedagog and retired +from the scene. + + + + +II + + +"Let's write a book," suggested the Idiot, as he took his place at the +board and unfolded his napkin. + +"What about?" asked the Doctor, with a smile at the idea of the Idiot's +thinking of embarking on literary pursuits. + +"About four hundred pages long," said the Idiot. "I feel inspired." + +"You are inspired," said the School-Master. "In your way you are a +genius. I really never heard of such a variegated Idiot as you are in all +my experience, and that means a great deal, I can tell you, for in the +course of my career as an instructor of youth I have encountered many +idiots." + +"Were they idiots before or after having drank at the fount of your +learning?" asked the Idiot, placidly. + +Mr. Pedagog glared, and the Idiot was apparently satisfied. To make Mr. +Pedagog glare appeared to be one of the chiefest of his ambitions. + +"You will kindly remember, Mr. Idiot," said Mrs. Pedagog at this point, +"that Mr. Pedagog is my husband, and such insinuations at my table are +distinctly out of place." + +"I ask your pardon, Mrs. Pedagog," rejoined the offender, meekly. +"Nevertheless, as apart from the question in hand as to whether Mr. +Pedagog inspires idiocy or not, I should like to get the views of this +gathering on the point you make regarding the table. _Is_ this your +table? Is it not rather the table of those who sit about it to regale +their inner man with the good things under which I remember once or twice +in my life to have heard it groan? To my mind, the latter is the truth. +It is _our_ table, because we buy it, and I am forced to believe that +some of us pay for it. I am prepared to admit that if Mr. Brief, for +instance, is delinquent in his weekly payments, his interest in the table +reverts to you until he shall have liquidated, and he is not privileged +to say a word that you do not approve of; but I, for instance, who since +January 1st have been compelled to pay in advance, am at least sole +lessee, and for the time being proprietor of the portion for which I have +paid. You have sold it to me. I have entered into possession, and while +in possession, as a matter of right and not on sufferance, haven't I the +privilege of freedom of speech?" + +"You certainly exercise the privilege whether you have it or not," +snapped Mr. Pedagog. + +"Well, I believe in exercise," said the Idiot. "Exercise brings strength, +and if exercising the privilege is going to strengthen it, exercise it I +shall, if I have to hire a gymnasium for the purpose. But to return to +Mrs. Pedagog's remark. It brings up another question that has more or +less interested me. Because Mrs. Smithers married Mr. Pedagog, do we lose +all of our rights in Mr. Pedagog? Before the happy event that reduced our +number from ten to nine--" + +"We are still ten, are we not?" asked Mr. Whitechoker, counting the +guests. + +"Not if Mr. Pedagog and the late Mrs. Smithers have become one," said the +Idiot. "But, as I was saying, before the happy event that reduced our +number from ten to nine we were permitted to address our friend Pedagog +in any terms we saw fit, and whenever he became sufficiently interested +to indulge in repartee we were privileged to return it. Have we +relinquished that privilege? I don't remember to have done so." + +"It's a question worthy of your giant intellect," said Mr. Pedagog, +scornfully. "For myself, I do not at all object to anything you may +choose to say to me or of me. Your assaults are to me as water is to a +duck's back." + +"I am sorry," said the Idiot. "I hate family disagreements, and here we +have Mrs. Pedagog taking one side and Mr. Pedagog the other. But whatever +decision may ultimately be reached, of one thing Mrs. Pedagog must be +assured. I on principle side against Mr. Pedagog, and if it be the wish +of my good landlady that I shall refrain from playing intellectual +battledore and shuttlecock with her husband, whom we all revere, I +certainly shall refrain. Hereafter if I indulge in anything that in any +sense resembles repartee with our landlord, I wish it distinctly +understood that an apology goes with it." + +"That's all right, my boy," said the School-Master. "You mean well. You +are a little new, that's all, and we all understand you." + +"I don't understand him," growled the Doctor, still smarting under the +recollection of former breakfast-table discomfitures. "I wish we could +get him translated." + +"If you prescribed for me once or twice I think it likely I should be +translated in short order," retorted the Idiot. "I wonder how I'd go +translated into French?" + +"You couldn't be expressed in French," put in the Lawyer. "It would take +some barbarian tongue to do you justice." + +"Very well," said the Idiot. "Proceed. Do me justice." + +"I can't begin to," said Mr. Brief, angrily. + +"That's what I thought," said the Idiot. "That's the reason why you +always do me such great injustice. You lawyers always have to be doing +something, even if it is only holding down a chair so that it won't blow +out of your office window. If you haven't any justice to mete out, you +take another tack and dispense injustice with lavish hand. However, I'll +forgive you if you'll tell me one thing. What's libel, Mr. Brief?" + +"None of your business," growled the Lawyer. + +"A very good general definition," said the Idiot, approvingly. "If +there's any business in the world that I should hate to have known as +mine it is that of libel. I think, however, your definition is not +definite. What I wanted to know was just how far I could go with remarks +at this table and be safe from prosecution." + +"Nobody would ever prosecute you, for two reasons," said the lawyer. "In +a civil action for money damages a verdict against you for ten cents +wouldn't be worth a rap, because the chances are you couldn't pay. In a +criminal action your conviction would be a bad thing, because you would +be likely to prove a corrupting influence in any jail in creation. +Besides, you'd be safe before a jury, anyhow. You are just the sort of +idiot that the intelligent jurors of to-day admire, and they'd acquit you +of any crime. A man has a right to a trial at the hands of a jury of his +peers. I don't think even in a jury-box twelve idiots equal to yourself +could be found, so don't worry." + +"Thanks. Have a cigarette?" said the Idiot, tossing one over to the +Lawyer. "It's all I have. If I had a half-dollar I should pay you for +your opinion; but since I haven't, I offer you my all. The temperature of +my coffee seems to have fallen, Mrs. Pedagog. Will you kindly let me have +another cup?" + +"Certainly," said Mrs. Pedagog. "Mary, get the Idiot another cup." + +Mary did as she was told, placing the empty bit of china at Mrs. +Pedagog's side. + +"It is for the Idiot, Mary," said Mrs. Pedagog, coldly. "Take it to him." + +"Empty, ma'am?" asked the maid. + +"Certainly, Mary," said the Idiot, perceiving Mrs. Pedagog's point. "I +asked for another cup, not for more coffee." + +[Illustration: "CERTAINLY. I ASKED FOR ANOTHER CUP"] + +Mrs. Pedagog smiled quietly at her own joke. At hair-splitting she could +give the Idiot points. + +"I am surprised that Mary should have thought I wanted more coffee," +continued the Idiot, in an aggrieved tone. "It shows that she too thinks +me out of my mind." + +"You are not out of your mind," said the Bibliomaniac. "It would be a +good thing if you were. In replenishing your mental supply you might have +the luck to get better quality." + +"I probably should have the luck," said the Idiot. "I have had a great +store of it in my life. From the very start I have had luck. When I think +that I was born myself, and not you, I feel as if I had had more than my +share of good-fortune--more luck than the law allows. How much luck does +the law allow, Mr. Brief?" + +"Bosh!" said Mr. Brief, with a scornful wave of his hand, as if he +were ridding himself of a troublesome gnat. "Don't bother me with such +mind-withering questions." + +"All right," said the Idiot. "I'll ask you an easier one. Why does not +the world recognize matrimony?" + +Mr. Whitechoker started. Here, indeed, was a novel proposition. + +"I--I--must confess," said he, "that of all the idiotic questions +I--er--I have ever had the honor of hearing asked that takes the--" + +"Cake?" suggested the Idiot. + +"--palm!" said Mr. Whitechoker, severely. + +"Well, perhaps so," said the Idiot. "But matrimony is the science, or the +art, or whatever you call it, of making two people one, is it not?" + +"It certainly is," said Mr. Whitechoker. "But what of it?" + +"The world does not recognize the unity," said the Idiot. "Take our good +proprietors, for instance. They were made one by yourself, Mr. +Whitechoker. I had the pleasure of being an usher at the ceremony, +yielding the position of best man gracefully, as is my wont, to the +Bibliomaniac. He was best man, but not the better man, by a simple +process of reasoning. Now no one at this board disputes that Mr. and Mrs. +Pedagog are one, but how about the world? Mr. Pedagog takes Mrs. Pedagog +to a concert. Are they one there?" + +"Why not?" asked Mr. Brief. + +"That's what I want to know--why not? The world, as represented by the +ticket-taker at the door, says they are not--or implies that they are +not, by demanding tickets for two. They attempt to travel out to Niagara +Falls. The railroad people charge them two fares; the hackman charges +them two fares; the hotel bills are made out for two people. It is the +same wherever they go in the world, and I regret to say that even in our +own home there is a disposition to regard them as two. When I spoke of +there being nine persons here instead of ten, Mr. Whitechoker himself +disputed my point--and yet it was not so much his fault as the fault of +Mr. and Mrs. Pedagog themselves. Mrs. Pedagog seems to cast doubt upon +the unity by providing two separate chairs for the two halves that make +up the charming entirety. Two cups are provided for their coffee. Two +forks, two knives, two spoons, two portions of all the delicacies of the +season which are lavished upon us out of season--generally after it--fall +to their lot. They do not object to being called a happy _couple_, when +they should be known as a happy single. Now what I want to know is why +the world does not accept the shrinkage which has been pronounced valid +by the church and is recognized by the individual? Can any one here tell +me that?" + +[Illustration: "DEMANDS TICKETS FOR TWO"] + +No one could, apparently. At least no one endeavored to. The Idiot looked +inquiringly at all, and then, receiving no reply to his question, he rose +from the table. + +"I think," he said, as he started to leave the room--"I think we ought to +write that book. If we made it up of the things you people don't know, it +would be one of the greatest books of the century. At any rate, it would +be great enough in bulk to fill the biggest library in America." + + + + +III + + +"I wish I were beginning life all over again," said the Idiot one spring +morning, as he took his accustomed place at Mrs. Pedagog's table. + +"I wish you were," said Mr. Pedagog from behind his newspaper. "Then your +parents would have you shut up in a nursery, and it is even conceivable +that you would be receiving those disciplinary attentions with a slipper +that you seem to me so frequently to deserve, were you at this present +moment in the nursery stage of your development." + +"My!" ejaculated the Idiot. "What a wonder you are, Mr. Pedagog! It is a +good thing you are not a justice in a criminal court." + +"And what, may I venture to ask," said Mr. Pedagog, glancing at the Idiot +over his spectacles--"what has given rise to that extraordinary remark, +the connection of which with anything that has been said or done this +morning is distinctly not apparent?" + +"I only meant that a man who was so given over to long sentences as you +are would probably make too severe a judge in a criminal court," replied +the Idiot, meekly. "Do you make use of the same phraseology in the +class-room that you dazzle us with, I should like to know?" + +"And why not, pray?" said Mr. Pedagog. + +"No special reason," said the Idiot; "only it does seem to me that an +instructor of youth ought to be more careful in his choice of adverbs +than you appear to be. Of course Doctor Bolus here is under no obligation +to speak more grammatically or correctly than he does. People call him in +to prescribe, not to indulge in rhetorical periods, and he can write his +prescriptions in a sort of intuitive Latin and nobody be the wiser, but +you, who are said to be sowing the seeds of knowledge in the brain of +youth, should be more careful." + +"Hear the grammarian talk!" returned Mr. Pedagog. "Listen to this +embryonic Samuel Johnson the Second. What have I said that so offends the +linguistic taste of Lindley Murray, Jun.?" + +"Nothing," returned the Idiot. "I cannot say that you have said anything. +I never heard you say anything in my life; but while you can no doubt +find good authority for making use of the words 'distinctly not +apparent,' you ought not to throw such phrases around carelessly. The +thing which is distinct is apparent, therefore to say 'distinctly not +apparent' to a mind that is not given to analysis sounds strange. You +might as well say of a beautiful girl that she is plainly pretty, meaning +of course that she is evidently pretty; but those who are unacquainted +with the idiomatic peculiarities of your speech might ask you if you +meant that she was pretty in a plain sort of way. Suppose, too, you were +writing a novel, and, in a desire to give your reader a fair idea of the +personal appearance of a homely but good creature, you should say, 'It +cannot be denied that Rosamond Follansbee was pretty plain?' It wouldn't +take a very grave error of the types to change your entire meaning. To +save a line on a page, for instance, it might become necessary to +eliminate a single word; and if that word should chance to be the word +'plain' in the sentence I have given, your homely but good person would +be set down as being undeniably pretty. Which shows, it seems to me, that +too great care cannot be exercised in the making of selections from our +vocabu--" + +"You are the worst I _ever_ knew!" snapped Mr. Pedagog. + +"Which only proves," observed the Idiot, "that you have not heeded the +Scriptural injunction that you should know thyself. Are those buckwheat +cakes or doilies?" + +Whether the question was heard or not is not known. It certainly was not +answered, and silence reigned for a few minutes. Finally Mrs. Pedagog +spoke, and in the manner of one who was somewhat embarrassed. "I am in an +embarrassing position," said she. + +"Good!" said the Idiot, _sotto-voce_, to the genial gentleman who +occasionally imbibed. "There is hope for the landlady yet. If she can be +embarrassed she is still human--a condition I was beginning to think she +wotted not of." + +"She whatted what?" queried the genial gentleman, not quite catching the +Idiot's words. + +"Never mind," returned the Idiot. "Let's hear how she ever came to be +embarrassed." + +"I have had an application for my first-floor suite, and I don't know +whether I ought to accept it or not," said the landlady. + +"She has a conscience, too," whispered the Idiot; and then he added, +aloud, "And wherein lies the difficulty, Mrs. Pedagog?" + +"The applicant is an actor; Junius Brutus Davenport is his name." + +"A tragedian or a comedian?" asked the Bibliomaniac. + +"Or first walking gentleman, who knows every railroad tie in the +country?" put in the Idiot. + +"That I do not know," returned the landlady. "His name sounds familiar +enough, though. I thought perhaps some of you gentlemen might know of +him." + +"I have heard of Junius Brutus," observed the Doctor, chuckling slightly +at his own humor, "and I've heard of Davenport, but Junius Brutus +Davenport is a combination with which I am not familiar." + +"Well, I can't see why it should make any difference whether the man is a +tragedian, or a comedian, or a familiar figure to railroad men," said Mr. +Whitechoker, firmly. "In any event, he would be an extremely objec--" + +"It makes a great deal of difference," said the Idiot. "I've met +tragedians, and I've met comedians, and I've met New York Central stars, +and I can assure you they each represent a distinct type. The tragedians, +as a rule, are quiet meek individuals, with soft low voices, in private +life. They are more timid than otherwise, though essentially amiable. +I knew a tragedian once who, after killing seventeen Indians, a +road-agent, and a gross of cowboys between eight and ten P.M. +every night for sixteen weeks, working six nights a week, was afraid of a +mild little soft-shell crab that lay defenceless on a plate before him on +the evening of the seventh night of the last week. Tragedians make +agreeable companions, I can tell you; and if J. Brutus Davenport is a +tragedian, I think Mrs. Pedagog would do well to let him have the suite, +provided, of course, that he pays for it in advance." + +"I was about to observe, when our friend interrupted me," said Mr. +Whitechoker, with dignity, "that in any event an actor at this board +would be to me an extremely objec--" + +"Now the comedians," resumed the Idiot, ignoring Mr. Whitechoker's +remark--"the comedians are very different. They are twice as bloodthirsty +as the murderers of the drama, and, worse than that, they are given to +rehearsing at all hours of the day and night. A tragedian is a hard +character only on the stage, but the comedian is the comedian always. +If we had one of those fellows in our midst, it would not be very long +before we became part of the drama ourselves. Mrs. Pedagog would find +herself embarrassed once an hour, instead of, as at present, once a +century. Mr. Whitechoker would hear of himself as having appeared by +proxy in a roaring farce before our comedian had been with us two months. +The wise sayings of our friend the School-Master would be spoken nightly +from the stage, to the immense delight of the gallery gods, and to the +edification of the orchestra circle, who would wonder how so much +information could have got into the world and they not know it before. +The out-of-town papers would literally teem with witty extracts from our +comedian's plays, which we should immediately recognize as the dicta of +my poor self." + +[Illustration: "THEY ARE GIVEN TO REHEARSING AT ALL HOURS"] + +"All of which," put in Mr. Whitechoker, "but proves the truth of my +assertion that such a person would be an extremely objec--" + +"Then, as I said before," continued the Idiot, "he is continually +rehearsing, and his objectionableness as a fellow-boarder would be +greater or less, according to his play. If he were impersonating a +shiftless wanderer, who shows remarkable bravery at a hotel fire, we +should have to be prepared at any time to hear the fire-engines rushing +up to the front door, and to see our comedian scaling the fire-escape +with Mrs. Pedagog and her account-books in his arms, simply in the line +of rehearsal. If he were impersonating a detective after a criminal +masquerading as a good citizen, the School-Master would be startled some +night by a hoarse voice at his key-hole exclaiming: 'Ha! ha! I have him +now. There is no escape save by the back window, and that's so covered +o'er with dust 'twere suffocation sure to try it.' I hesitate to say what +would happen if he were a tank comedian." + +[Illustration: "'HA! HA! I HAVE HIM NOW!'"] + +"Perhaps," said Mr. Whitechoker, with a trifle more impatience than was +compatible with his calling--"perhaps you will hesitate long enough for +me to state what I have been trying to state ever since this soliloquy +of yours began--that in any event, whether this person be a tragedian, or +a comedian, or a walking gentleman, or a riding gentleman in a circus, I +object to his being admitted to this circle, and I deem it well to say +right here that as he comes in at the front door I go out at the back. As +a clergyman, I do not approve of the stage." + +"That ought to settle it," said the Idiot. "Mr. Whitechoker is too good +a friend to us all here for us to compel him to go out of that back door +into the rather limited market-garden Mrs. Pedagog keeps in the yard. My +indirect plea for the admission of Mr. Junius Brutus Davenport was based +entirely upon my desire to see this circle completed or nearer completion +than it is at present. We have all the professions represented here but +the stage, and why exclude it, granting that no one objects? The men +whose lives are given over to the amusement of mankind, and who are +willing to place themselves in the most outrageous situations night after +night in order that we may for the time being seem to be lifted out of +the unpleasant situations into which we have got ourselves, are in my +opinion doing a noble work. The theatre enables us to woo forgetfulness +of self successfully for a few brief hours, and I have seen the time when +an hour or two of relief from actual cares has resulted in great good. +Nevertheless, the gentleman is not elected; and if Mrs. Pedagog will +kindly refill my cup, I will ask you to join me in draining a toast to +the health of the pastor of this flock, whose conscience, paradoxical as +it may seem, is the most frequently worn and yet the least thread-bare +of the consciences represented at this table." + +This easy settlement of her difficulty was so pleasing to Mrs. Pedagog +that the Idiot's request was graciously acceded to, and Mr. Whitechoker's +health was drank in coffee, after which the Idiot requested the genial +gentleman who occasionally imbibed to join him privately in eating +buckwheat cakes to the health of Mr. Davenport. + +"I haven't any doubt that he is worthy of the attention," he said; "and +if you will lend me the money to buy the tickets, I'll take you around +to the Criterion to-night, where he is playing. I don't know whether he +plays Hamlet or A Hole in the Roof; but, at any rate, we can have a good +time between the acts." + + + + +IV + + +"I see the men are at work on the pavements this morning," said the +School-Master, gazing out through the window at a number of laborers at +work in the street. + +"Yes," said the Idiot, calmly, "and I think Mrs. Pedagog ought to sue the +Department of Public Works for libel. If she hasn't a case no maligned +person ever had." + +"What are you saying, sir?" queried the landlady, innocently. + +"I say," returned the Idiot, pointing out into the street, "that you +ought to sue the Department of Public Works for libel. They've got their +sign right up against your house. _No Thorough Fare_ is what it says. +That's libel, isn't it, Mr. Brief?" + +"It is certainly a fatal criticism of a boarding-house," observed Mr. +Brief, with a twinkle in his eye, "but Mrs. Pedagog could hardly secure +damages on that score." + +"I don't know about that," returned the Idiot. "As I understand it, it is +an old maxim of the law that the greater the truth the greater the libel. +Mrs. Pedagog ought to receive a million----By-the-way, what have we this +morning?" + +"We have steak and fried potatoes, sir," replied Mrs. Pedagog, frigidly. +"And I desire to add, that one who criticises the table as much as you do +would do well to get his meals outside." + +"That, Mrs. Pedagog, is not the point. The difficulty I find here lies in +getting my meals inside," said the Idiot. + +"Mary, you may bring in the mush," observed Mrs. Pedagog, pursing her +lips, as she always did when she wished to show that she was offended. + +"Yes, Mary," put in the School-Master; "let us have the mush as quickly +as possible--and may it not be quite such mushy mush as the remarks we +have just been favored with by our talented friend the Idiot." + +"You overwhelm me with your compliments, Mr. Pedagog," replied the Idiot, +cheerfully. "A flatterer like you should live in a flat." + +"Has your friend completed his article on old jokes yet?" queried the +Bibliomaniac, with a smile and some apparent irrelevance. + +[Illustration: "HAS YOUR FRIEND COMPLETED HIS ARTICLE ON OLD JOKES?"] + +"Yes and no," said the Idiot. "He has completed his labors on it by +giving it up. He is a very thorough sort of a fellow, and he intended +to make the article comprehensive, but he found he couldn't, because, +judging from comments of men like you, for instance, he was forced to +conclude that there never was a _new_ joke. But, as I was saying the +other morning----" + +"Do you really remember what you say?" sneered Mr. Pedagog. "You must +have a great memory for trifles." + +"Sir, I shall never forget you," said the Idiot. "But to revert to what +I was saying the other morning, I'd like to begin life all over again, so +that I could prepare myself for the profession of architecture. It's the +greatest profession in the world, and one which is surest to bring +immortality to its successful follower. A man may write a splendid book, +and become a great man for a while and within certain limits, but the +chances are that some other man will come along later and supplant him. +Then the book's sale will die out after a time, and with this will come +a diminution of its author's reputation, in extent anyway. An actor or a +great preacher becomes only a name after his death, but the architect who +builds a cathedral or a fine public building really erects a monument to +his own memory." + +"He does if he can build it so that it will stay up," said the +Bibliomaniac. "I think you, however, are better off as you are. If you +had a more extended reputation or a lasting name you would probably be +locked up in some retreat; or if you were not, posterity would want to +know why." + +"I am locked up in a retreat of Nature's making," said the Idiot, with a +sigh. "Nature has set around me certain limitations which, while they are +not material, might as well be so as far as my ability to soar above them +is concerned--and it's well she has. If it were otherwise, my life would +not be safe or bearable in this company. As it is, I am happy and not at +all afraid of the effects your jealousy of me might entail if I were any +better than the rest of you." + +"I like that," said Mr. Pedagog. + +"I thought you would," said the Idiot. "That's why I said it. I aim to +please, and for once seem to have hit the bull's-eye. Mary, kindly break +open this biscuit for me." + +"Have you ideas on the subject of architecture that you so desire to +become an architect?" queried Mr. Whitechoker, who was always full of +sympathy for aspiring natures. + +"A few," said the Idiot. + +Mr. Pedagog laughed outright. + +"Let's test his ideas," he said, in an amused way. "Take a cathedral, for +instance. Suppose, Mr. Idiot, a man should come to you and say: 'Idiot, +we have a fund of $800,000 in our hands, actual cash. We think of +building a cathedral, and we think of employing you to draw up our plans. +Give us some idea of what we should do.' Do you mean to tell me that you +could say anything reasonable or intelligent to that man?" + +"Well, that depends upon what you call reasonable and intelligent. I have +never been able to find out what you mean by those terms," the Idiot +answered, slowly. "But I could tell him something that I consider +reasonable and intelligent." + +"From your own point of view, then, as to reasonableness and +intelligence, what should you say to him?" + +"I'd make him out a plan providing for the investment of his $800,000 in +five-per-cent, gold bonds, which would bring him in an income of $40,000 +a year; after which I should call his attention to the fact that $40,000 +a year would enable him to take 10,000 poor children out of this +sweltering city into the country, to romp and drink fresh milk and eat +wholesome food for two weeks every summer from now until the end of time, +which would build up a human structure that might be of more benefit to +the world than any pile of bricks, marble, and wrought-iron I or any +other architect could conceive of," said the Idiot. "The structure would +stand up, too." + +"You call that architecture, do you?" said Mr. Pedagog. + +"Yes," said the Idiot, "of the renaissance order. But that, of course, +you term idiocy--and maybe it is. I like to be that kind of an idiot. I +do not claim to be able to build a cathedral, however. I don't suppose +I could even build a boarding-house like this, but what I should like to +do in architecture would be to put up a $5000 dwelling-house for $5000. +That's a thing that has never been done, and I think I might be able to +do it. If I did, I'd patent the plan and make a fortune. Then I should +like to know enough about the science of planning a building to find out +whether my model hotel is practicable or not." + +"You have a model hotel in your mind, eh?" said the Bibliomaniac. + +"It must be a very small hotel if it's in his mind," said the Doctor. + +"That's tantamount to saying that it isn't anywhere," said Mr. Pedagog. + +"Well, it's a great hotel just the same," said the Idiot. "Although I +presume it would be expensive to build. It would have movable rooms, in +the first place. Each room would be constructed like an elevator, with +appliances at hand for moving it up and down. The great thing about this +would be that persons could have a room on any floor they wanted it, so +long as they got the room in the beginning. A second advantage would lie +in the fact, that if you were sleeping in a room next door to another in +which there was a crying baby, you could pull the rope and go up two or +three flights until you were free from the noise. Then in case of fire +the room in which the fire started could be lowered into a sliding tank +large enough to immerse the whole thing in, which I should have +constructed in the cellar. If the whole building were to catch fire, +there would be no loss of life, because all the rooms could be lowered +to the ground-floor, and the occupants could step right out upon solid +ground. Then again, if you were down on the ground-floor, and desired to +get an extended view of the surrounding country, it would be easy to +raise your room to the desired elevation. Why, there's no end to the +advantages to be gained from such an arrangement." + +"It's a fine idea," said Mr. Pedagog, "and one worthy of your mammoth +intellect. It couldn't possibly cost more than a million of dollars to +erect such a hotel, could it?" + +"No," said the Idiot. "And that is cheap alongside some of the hotels +they are putting up nowadays." + +"It could be built on less than four hundred acres of ground, too, +I presume?" said the Bibliomaniac, with a wink at the Doctor. + +"Certainly," said the Idiot, meekly. + +"And if anybody fell sick in one of the rooms," said the Doctor, "and +needed a change of air, you could have a tower over each, I suppose, so +that the room could be elevated high enough to secure the different +quality in the ether?" + +"Undoubtedly," said the Idiot. "Although that would add materially to the +expense. A scarlet-fever patient, however, in a hotel like that could +very easily be isolated from the rest of the house by the maintenance of +what might be called the hospital floor." + +"Superb!" said the Doctor. "I wonder you haven't spoken to some +architectural friend about it." + +"I have," said the Idiot. "You must remember that young fellow with a +black mustache I had here to dinner last Saturday night." + +"Yes, I remember him," said the Doctor. "Is he an architect?" + +"He is--and a good one. He can take a brown-stone dwelling and turn it +into a colonial mansion with a pot of yellow paint. He's a wonder. I +submitted the idea to him." + +"And what was his verdict?" + +"I don't like to say," said the Idiot, blushing a little. + +"Ha! ha!" laughed Mr. Pedagog. "I shouldn't think you would like to say. +I guess we know what he said." + +"I doubt it," said the Idiot; "but if you guess right, I'll tell you." + +"He said you had better go and live in a lunatic asylum," said Mr. +Pedagog, with a chuckle. + +"Not he," returned the Idiot, nibbling at his biscuit. "On the contrary. +He advised me to stop living in one. He said contact with the rest of you +was affecting my brain." + +This time Mr. Pedagog did not laugh, but mistaking his coffee-cup for a +piece of toast, bit a small section out of its rim; and in the midst of +Mrs. Pedagog's expostulation, which followed the School-Master's careless +error, the Idiot and the Genial Old Gentleman departed, with smiles on +their faces which were almost visible at the back of their respective +necks. + +[Illustration: THEY DEPARTED] + + + + +V + + +"Hullo!" said the Idiot, as he began his breakfast. "This isn't Friday +morning, is it? I thought it was Tuesday." + +"So it is Tuesday," put in the School-Master. + +"Then this fish is a little extra treat, is it?" observed the Idiot, +turning with a smile to the landlady. + +"Fish? That isn't fish, sir," returned the good lady. "That is liver." + +"Oh, is it?" said the Idiot, apologetically. "Excuse me, my dear Mrs. +Pedagog. I thought from its resistance that it was fried sole. Have you +a hatchet handy?" he added, turning to the maid. + +"My piece is tender enough. I can't see what you want," said the +School-Master, coldly. + +"I'd like your piece," replied the Idiot, suavely. "That is, if it really +is tender enough." + +"Don't pay any attention to him, my dear," said the School-Master to the +landlady, whose ire was so very much aroused that she was about to make +known her sentiments on certain subjects. + +"No, Mrs. Pedagog," said the Idiot, "don't pay any attention to me, I +beg of you. Anything that could add to the jealousy of Mr. Pedagog would +redound to the discomfort of all of us. Besides, I really do not object +to the liver. I need not eat it. And as for staying my appetite, I always +stop on my way down-town after breakfast for a bite or two anyhow." + +There was silence for a moment. + +"I wonder why it is," began the Idiot, after tasting his coffee--"I +wonder why it is Friday is fish-day all over the world, anyhow? Do you +happen to be learned enough in piscatorial science to enlighten me on +that point, Doctor?" + +"No," returned the physician, gruffly. "I've never looked into the +matter." + +"I guess it's because Friday is an unlucky day," said the Idiot. "Just +think of all the unlucky things that may happen before and after eating +fish, as well as during the process. In the first place, before eating, +you go off and fish all day, and have no luck--don't catch a thing. You +fall in the water perhaps, and lose your watch, or your fish-hook +catches in your coat-tails, with the result that you come near casting +yourself instead of the fly into the brook or the pond, as the case may +be. Perhaps the hook doesn't stop with the coat-tails, but goes on in, +and catches you. That's awfully unlucky, especially when the hook is made +of unusually barby barbed wire. + +[Illustration: "YOU FISH ALL DAY, AND HAVE NO LUCK"] + +"Then, again, you may go fishing on somebody else's preserves, and get +arrested, and sent to jail overnight, and hauled up the next morning, and +have to pay ten dollars fine for poaching. Think of Mr. Pedagog being +fined ten dollars for poaching! Awfully unfortunate!" + +"Kindly leave me out of your calculations," returned Mr. Pedagog, with a +flush of indignation. + +"Certainly, if you wish it," said the Idiot. "We'll hand Mr. Brief over +to the police, and let _him_ be fined for poaching on somebody else's +preserves--although that's sort of impossible, too, because Mrs. Pedagog +never lets us see preserves of any kind." + +"We had brandied peaches last Sunday night," said the landlady, +indignantly. + +"Oh yes, so we did," returned the Idiot. "That must have been what the +Bibliomaniac had taken," he added, turning to the genial gentleman who +occasionally imbibed. "You know, we thought he'd been--ah--he'd been +absorbing." + +"To what do you refer?" asked the Bibliomaniac, curtly. + +"To the brandied peaches," returned the Idiot. "Do not press me further, +please, because we like you, old fellow, and I don't believe anybody +noticed it but ourselves." + +"Noticed what? I want to know what you noticed and when you noticed it," +said the Bibliomaniac, savagely. "I don't want any nonsense, either. I +just want a plain statement of facts. What did you notice?" + +"Well, if you must have it," said the Idiot, slowly, "my friend who +imbibes and I were rather pained on Sunday night to observe that +you--that you had evidently taken something rather stronger than cold +water, tea, or Mr. Pedagog's opinions." + +"It's a libel, sir!--a gross libel!" retorted the Bibliomaniac. "How did +I show it? That's what I want to know. How--did--I--show--it? Speak up +quick, and loud too. How did I show it?" + +"Well, you went up-stairs after tea." + +"Yes, sir, I did." + +"And my friend who imbibes and I were left down in the front hall, and +while we were talking there you put your head over the banisters and +asked, 'Who's that down there?' Remember that?" + +"Yes, sir, I do. And you replied, 'Mr. Auburnose and myself.'" + +"Yes. And then you asked, 'Who are the other two?'" + +"Well, I did. What of it?" + +"Mr. Auburnose and I were there alone. That's what of it. Now I put a +charitable construction on the matter and say it was the peaches, when +you fly off the handle like one of Mrs. Pedagog's coffee-cups." + +"Sir!" roared the Bibliomaniac, jumping from his chair. "You are the +greatest idiot I know." + +"Sir!" returned the Idiot, "you flatter me." + +But the Bibliomaniac was not there to hear. He had rushed from the room, +and during the deep silence that ensued he could be heard throwing things +about in the chamber overhead, and in a very few moments the banging of +the front door and scurrying down the brown-stone steps showed that he +had gone out of doors to cool off. + +[Illustration: HE COULD BE HEARD THROWING THINGS ABOUT] + +"It is too bad," said the Idiot, after a while, "that he has such a +quick temper. It doesn't do a bit of good to get mad that way. He'll be +uncomfortable all day long, and over what? Just because I attempted to +say a good word for him, and announce the restoration of my confidence in +his temperance qualities, he cuts up a high-jinks that makes everybody +uncomfortable. + +"But to resume about this fish business," continued the Idiot. "Fish--" + +"Oh, fish be hanged!" said the Doctor, impatiently. "We've had enough of +fish." + +"Very well," returned the idiot; "as you wish. Hanging isn't the best +treatment for fish, but we'll let that go. I never cared for the finny +tribe myself, and if Mrs. Pedagog can be induced to do it, I for one am +in favor of keeping shad, shark, and shrimps out of the house +altogether." + + + + +VI + + +The Idiot was unusually thoughtful--a fact which made the School-Master +and the Bibliomaniac unusually nervous. Their stock criticism of him was +that he was thoughtless; and yet when he so far forgot his natural +propensities as to meditate, they did not like it. It made them uneasy. +They had a haunting fear that he was conspiring with himself against +them, and no man, not even a callous school-master or a confirmed +bibliomaniac, enjoys feeling that he is the object of a conspiracy. The +thing to do, then, upon this occasion, seemed obviously to interrupt his +train of thought--to put obstructions upon his mental track, as it were, +and ditch the express, which they feared was getting up steam at that +moment to run them down. + +"You don't seem quite yourself this morning, sir," said the Bibliomaniac. + +"Don't I?" queried the Idiot. "And whom do I seem to be?" + +"I mean that you seem to have something on your mind that worries you," +said the Bibliomaniac. + +"No, I haven't anything on my mind," returned the Idiot. "I was thinking +about you and Mr. Pedagog--which implies a thought not likely to use up +much of my gray matter." + +"Do you think your head holds any gray matter?" put in the Doctor. + +"Rather verdant, I should say," said Mr. Pedagog. + +"Green, gray, or pink," said the Idiot, "choose your color. It does +not affect the fact that I was thinking about the Bibliomaniac and Mr. +Pedagog. I have a great scheme in hand, which only requires capital +and the assistance of those two gentlemen to launch it on the sea of +prosperity. If any of you gentlemen want to get rich and die in comfort +as the owner of your homes, now is your chance." + +"In what particular line of business is your scheme?" asked Mr. +Whitechoker. He had often felt that he would like to die in comfort, +and to own a little house, even if it had a large mortgage on it. + +"Journalism," said the Idiot. "There is a pile of money to be made out +of journalism, particularly if you happen to strike a new idea. Ideas +count." + +"How far up do your ideas count--up to five?" questioned Mr. Pedagog, +with a tinge of sarcasm in his tone. + +"I don't know about that," returned the Idiot. "The idea I have hold +of now, however, will count up into the millions if it can only be set +going, and before each one of those millions will stand a big capital S +with two black lines drawn vertically through it--in other words, my idea +holds dollars, but to get the crop you've got to sow the seed. Plant a +thousand dollars in my idea, and next year you'll reap two thousand. +Plant that, and next year you'll have four thousand, and so on. At that +rate millions come easy." + +"I'll give you a dollar for the idea," said the Bibliomaniac. + +"No, I don't want to sell. You'll do to help develop the scheme. You'll +make a first-rate tool, but you aren't the workman to manage the tool. I +will go as far as to say, however, that without you and Mr. Pedagog, or +your equivalents in the animal kingdom, the idea isn't worth the fabulous +sum you offer." + +"You have quite aroused my interest," said Mr. Whitechoker. "Do you +propose to start a new paper?" + +"You are a good guesser," replied the Idiot. "That is a part of the +scheme--but it isn't the idea. I propose to start a new paper in +accordance with the plan which the idea contains." + +"Is it to be a magazine, or a comic paper, or what?" asked the +Bibliomaniac. + +"Neither. It's a daily." + +"That's nonsense," said Mr. Pedagog, putting his spoon into the +condensed-milk can by mistake. "There isn't a single scheme in daily +journalism that hasn't been tried--except printing an evening paper in +the morning." + +"That's been tried," said the Idiot. "I know of an evening paper the +second edition of which is published at mid-day. That's an old dodge, and +there's money in it, too--money that will never be got out of it. But I +really have a grand scheme. So many of our dailies, you know, go in for +every horrid detail of daily events that people are beginning to tire of +them. They contain practically the same things day after day. So many +columns of murder, so many beautiful suicides, so much sport, a modicum +of general intelligence, plenty of fires, no end of embezzlements, +financial news, advertisements, and head-lines. Events, like history, +repeat themselves, until people have grown weary of them. They want +something new. For instance, if you read in your morning paper that +a man has shot another man, you know that the man who was shot was an +inoffensive person who never injured a soul, stood high in the community +in which he lived, and leaves a widow with four children. On the other +hand, you know without reading the account that the murderer shot his +victim in self-defence, and was apprehended by the detectives late last +night; that his counsel forbid him to talk to the reporters, and that it +is rumored that he comes of a good family living in New England. + +"If a breach of trust is committed, you know that the defaulter was the +last man of whom such an act would be suspected, and, except in the one +detail of its location and sect, that he was prominent in some church. +You can calculate to a cent how much has been stolen by a glance at the +amount of space devoted to the account of the crime. Loaf of bread, two +lines. Thousand dollars, ten lines. Hundred thousand dollars, +half-column. Million dollars, a full column. Five million dollars, +half the front page, wood-cut of the embezzler, and two editorials, one +leader and one paragraph. + +"And so with everything. We are creatures of habit. The expected always +happens, and newspapers are dull because the events they chronicle are +dull." + +"Granting the truth of this," put in the School-Master, "what do you +propose to do?" + +"Get up a newspaper that will devote its space to telling what hasn't +happened." + +"That's been done," said the Bibliomaniac. + +"To a much more limited extent than we think," returned the Idiot. "It +has never been done consistently and truthfully." + +"I fail to see how a newspaper can be made to prevaricate truthfully," +asserted Mr. Whitechoker. To tell the truth, he was greatly disappointed +with the idea, because he could not in the nature of things become one of +its beneficiaries. + +[Illustration: "HE WAS NOT MURDERED"] + +"I haven't suggested prevarication," said the Idiot. "Put on your front +page, for instance, an item like this: 'George Bronson, colored, aged +twenty-nine, a resident of Thompson Street, was caught cheating at poker +last night. He was not murdered.' There you tell what has not happened. +There is a variety about it. It has the charm of the unexpected. Then you +might say: 'Curious incident on Wall Street yesterday. So-and-so, who +was caught on the bear side of the market with 10,000 shares of J. B. & +S. K. W., paid off all his obligations in full, and retired from business +with $1,000,000 clear.' Or we might say, 'Superintendent Smithers, of the +St. Goliath's Sunday-school, who is also cashier in the Forty-eighth +National Bank, has not absconded with $4,000,000.'" + +[Illustration: "SUPERINTENDENT SMITHERS HAS NOT ABSCONDED"] + +"Oh, that's a rich idea," put in the School-Master. "You'd earn +$1,000,000 in libel suits the first year." + +"No, you wouldn't, either," said the Idiot. "You don't libel a man +when you say he hasn't murdered anybody. Quite the contrary, you call +attention to his conspicuous virtue. You are in reality commending those +who refrain from criminal practice, instead of delighting those who are +fond of departing from the paths of Christianity by giving them +notoriety." + +"But I fail to see in what respect Mr. Pedagog and I are essential to +your scheme," said the Bibliomaniac. + +"I must confess to some curiosity on my own part on that point," added +the School-Master. + +"Why, it's perfectly clear," returned the Idiot, with a conciliating +smile as he prepared to depart. "You both know so much that isn't so, +that I rather rely on you to fill up." + + + + +VII + + +A new boarder had joined the circle about Mrs. Pedagog's breakfast-table. +He had what the Idiot called a three-ply name--which was Richard +Henderson Warren--and he was by profession a poet. Whether it was this +that made it necessary for him to board or not, the rewards of the muse +being rather slender, was known only to himself, and he showed no +disposition to enlighten his fellow-boarders on the subject. His success +as a poet Mrs. Pedagog found it hard to gauge; for while the postman left +almost daily numerous letters, the envelopes of which showed that they +came from the various periodicals of the day, it was never exactly clear +whether or not the missives contained remittances or rejected +manuscripts, though the fact that Mr. Warren was the only boarder in the +house who had requested to have a waste-basket added to the furniture of +his room seemed to indicate that they contained the latter. To this +request Mrs. Pedagog had gladly acceded, because she had a notion that +therein at some time or another would be found a clew to the new +boarder's past history--or possibly some evidence of such duplicity +as the good lady suspected he might be guilty of. She had read that Byron +was profligate, and that Poe was addicted to drink, and she was impressed +with the idea that poets generally were bad men, and she regarded the +waste-basket as a possible means of protecting herself against any such +idiosyncrasies of her new-found genius as would operate to her +disadvantage if not looked after in time. + +This waste-basket she made it her daily duty to empty, and in the privacy +of her own room. Half-finished "ballads, songs, and snatches" she perused +before consigning them to the flames or to the large jute bag in the +cellar, for which the ragman called two or three times a year. Once Mrs. +Pedagog's heart almost stopped beating when she found at the bottom of +the basket a printed slip beginning, "_The Editor regrets that the +enclosed lines are unavailable_," and closing with about thirteen +reasons, any one or all of which might have been the main cause of the +poet's disappointment. Had it not been for the kindly clause in the +printed slip that insinuated in graceful terms that this rejection did +not imply a lack of literary merit in the contribution itself, the good +lady, knowing well that there was even less money to be made from +rejected than from accepted poetry, would have been inclined to request +the poet to vacate the premises. The very next day, however, she was glad +she had not requested the resignation of the poet from the laureateship +of her house; for the same basket gave forth another printed slip from +another editor, begging the poet to accept the enclosed check, with +thanks for his contribution, and asking him to deposit it as soon as +practicable--which was pleasing enough, since it implied that the poet +was the possessor of a bank account. + +Now Mrs. Pedagog was consumed with curiosity to know for how large a sum +the check called--which desire was gratified a few days later, when the +inspired boarder paid his week's bill with three one-dollar bills and a +check, signed by a well-known publisher, for two dollars. + +[Illustration: THE INSPIRED BOARDER PAID HIS BILL] + +By the boarders themselves the poet was regarded with much interest. +The School-Master had read one or two of his effusions in the Fireside +Corner of the journal he received weekly from his home up in New +England--effusions which showed no little merit, as well as indicating +that Mr. Warren wrote for a literary syndicate; Mr. Whitechoker had known +of him as the young man who was to have written a Christmas carol for his +Sunday-school a year before, and who had finished and presented the +manuscript shortly after New-Year's day; while to the Idiot, Mr. Warren's +name was familiar as that of a frequent contributor to the funny papers +of the day. + +"I was very much amused by your poem in the last number of the +_Observer_, Mr. Warren," said the Idiot, as they sat down to breakfast +together. + +"Were you, indeed?" returned Mr. Warren. "I am sorry to hear that, for it +was intended to be a serious effort." + +"Of course it was, Mr. Warren, and so it appeared," said the +School-Master, with an indignant glance at the Idiot. "It was a very +dignified and stately bit of work, and I must congratulate you upon it." + +"I didn't mean to give offence," said the Idiot. "I've read so much of +yours that was purely humorous that I believe I'd laugh at a dirge if you +should write one; but I really thought your lines in the _Observer_ were +a burlesque. You had the same thought that Rossetti expresses in 'The +Woodspurge': + + 'The wind flapped loose, the wind was still, + Shaken out dead from tree to hill; + I had walked on at the wind's will, + I sat now, for the wind was still.' + +That's Rossetti, if you remember. Slightly suggestive of 'Blow Ye Winds +of the Morning! Blow! Blow! Blow!' but more or less pleasing." + +"I recall the poem you speak of," said Warren, with dignity; "but the +true poet, sir--and I hope I have some claim to be considered as +such--never so far forgets himself as to burlesque his masters." + +"Well, I don't know what to call it, then, when a poet takes the same +thought that has previously been used by his masters and makes a funny +poem--" + +"But," returned the Poet, warmly, "it was not a funny poem." + +"It made me laugh," retorted the Idiot, "and that is more than half the +professedly funny poems we get nowadays can do. Therefore I say it was a +funny poem, and I don't see how you can deny that it was a burlesque of +Rossetti." + +"Well, I do deny it _in toto_." + +"I don't know anything about denying it _in toto_," rejoined the Idiot, +"but I'd deny it in print if I were you. I know plenty of people who +think it was a burlesque, and I overheard one man say--he is a Rossetti +crank--that you ought to be ashamed of yourself for writing it." + +"There is no use of discussing the matter further," said the Poet. "I am +innocent of any such intent as you have ascribed to me, and if people say +I have burlesqued Rossetti they say what is not true." + +"Did you ever read that little poem of Swinburne's called 'The Boy at the +Gate'?" asked the Idiot, to change the subject. + +"I have no recollection of it," said the Poet, shortly. + +"The name sounds familiar," put in Mr. Whitechoker, anxious not to be +left out of a literary discussion. + +"I have read it, but I forget just how it goes," vouchsafed the +School-Master, forgetting for a moment the Robert Elsmere episode and its +lesson. + +"It goes something like this," said the Idiot: + + "Sombre and sere the slim sycamore sighs; + Lushly the lithe leaves lie low o'er the land; + Whistles the wind with its whisperings wise, + Grewsomely gloomy and garishly grand. + So doth the sycamore solemnly stand, + Wearily watching in wondering wait; + So it has stood for six centuries, and + Still it is waiting the boy at the gate." + +"No; I never read the poem," said Mr. Whitechoker, "but I'd know it was +Swinburne in a minute. He has such a command of alliterative language." + +"Yes," said the Poet, with an uneasy glance at the Idiot. "It is +Swinburnian; but what was the poem about?" + +"'The boy at the gate,'" said the Idiot. "The idea was that the sycamore +was standing there for centuries waiting for the boy who never turns up." + +"It really is a beautiful thought," put in Mr. Whitechoker. "It is, I +presume, an allegory to contrast faithful devotion and constancy with +unfaithfulness and fickleness. Such thoughts occur only to the wholly +gifted. It is only to the poetic temperament that the conception of such +a thought can come coupled with the ability to voice it in fitting terms. +There is a grandeur about the lines the Idiot has quoted that betrays the +master-mind." + +"Very true," said the School-Master, "and I take this opportunity to say +that I am most agreeably surprised in the Idiot. It is no small thing +even to be able to repeat a poet's lines so carefully, and with so great +lucidity, and so accurately, as I can testify that he has just done." + +"Don't be too pleased, Mr. Pedagog," said the Idiot, dryly. "I only +wanted to show Mr. Warren that you and Mr. Whitechoker, mines of +information though you are, have not as yet worked up a corner on +knowledge to the exclusion of the rest of us." And with these words the +Idiot left the table. + +"He is a queer fellow," said the School-Master. "He is full of pretence +and hollowness, but he is sometimes almost brilliant." + +"What you say is very true," said Mr. Whitechoker. "I think he has just +escaped being a smart man. I wish we could take him in hand, Mr. Pedagog, +and make him more of a fellow than he is." + +Later in the day the Poet met the Idiot on the stairs. "I say," he said, +"I've looked all through Swinburne, and I can't find that poem." + +"I know you can't," returned the Idiot, "because it isn't there. +Swinburne never wrote it. It was a little thing of my own. I was only +trying to get a rise out of Mr. Pedagog and his Reverence with it. You +have frequently appeared impressed by the undoubtedly impressive manner +of these two gentlemen. I wanted to show you what their opinions were +worth." + +[Illustration: "I KNOW YOU CAN'T, BECAUSE IT ISN'T THERE"] + +"Thank you," returned the Poet, with a smile. "Don't you want to go +into partnership with me and write for the funny papers? It would be +a splendid thing for me--your ideas are so original." + +"And I can see fun in everything, too," said the Idiot, thoughtfully. + +"Yes," returned the Poet. "Even in my serious poems." + +Which remark made the Idiot blush a little, but he soon recovered his +composure and made a firm friend of the Poet. + +The first fruits of the partnership have not yet appeared, however. + +As for Messrs. Whitechoker and Pedagog, when they learned how they had +been deceived, they were so indignant that they did not speak to the +Idiot for a week. + + + + +VIII + + +It was Sunday morning, and Mr. Whitechoker, as was his wont on the first +day of the week, appeared at the breakfast table severe as to his mien. + +"Working on Sunday weighs on his mind," the Idiot said to the +Bibliomaniac, "but I don't see why it should. The luxury of rest +that he allows himself the other six days of the week is surely an +atonement for the hours of labor he puts in on Sunday." + +But it was not this that on Sunday mornings weighed on the mind of the +Reverend Mr. Whitechoker. He appeared more serious of visage then because +he had begun to think of late that his fellow-boarders lived too much in +the present, and ignored almost totally that which might be expected to +come. He had been revolving in his mind for several weeks the question as +to whether it was or was not his Christian duty to attempt to influence +the lives of these men with whom the chances of life had brought him in +contact. He had finally settled it to his own satisfaction that it was +his duty so to do, and he had resolved, as far as lay in his power, to +direct the conversation at Sunday morning's breakfast into spiritual +rather than into temporal matters. + +So, as Mrs. Pedagog was pouring the coffee, Mr. Whitechoker began: + +"Do you gentlemen ever pause in your every-day labors and thought to let +your minds rest upon the future--the possibilities it has in store for +us, the consequences which--" + +"No mush, thank you," said the Idiot. Then turning to Mr. Whitechoker, he +added: "I can't answer for the other gentlemen at this board, but I can +assure you, Mr. Whitechoker, that I often do so. It was only last night, +sir, that my genial friend who imbibes and I were discussing the future +and its possibilities, and I venture to assert that there is no more +profitable food for reflection anywhere in the larders of the mind than +that." + +"Larders of the mind is excellent," said the School-Master, with a touch +of sarcasm in his voice. "Perhaps you would not mind opening the door to +your mental pantry, and letting us peep within at the stores you keep +there. I am sure that on the subject in hand your views cannot fail to be +original as well as edifying." + +"I am also sure," said Mr. Whitechoker, somewhat surprised to hear the +Idiot speak as he did, having sometimes ventured to doubt if that +flippant-minded young man ever reflected on the serious side of life--"I +am also sure that it is most gratifying to hear that you have done some +thinking on the subject." + +"I am glad you are gratified, Mr. Whitechoker," replied the Idiot, "but +I am far from taking undue credit to myself because I reflect upon the +future and its possibilities. I do not see how any man can fail to be +interested in the subject, particularly when he considers the great +strides science has made in the last twenty years." + +"I fail to see," said the School-Master, "what the strides of science +have to do with it." + +"You fail to see so often, Mr. Pedagog," returned the Idiot, "that I +would advise your eyes to make an assignment in favor of your pupils." + +"I must confess," put in Mr. Whitechoker, blandly, "that I too am +somewhat--er--somewhat--" + +"Somewhat up a tree as to science's connection with the future?" queried +the Idiot. + +"You have my meaning, but hardly the phraseology I should have chosen," +replied the minister. + +"My style is rather epigrammatic," said the Idiot, suavely. "I appreciate +the flattery implied by your noticing it. But science has everything to +do with it. It is science that is going to make the future great. It is +science that has annihilated distance, and the annihilation has just +begun. Twenty years ago it was hardly possible for a man standing on one +side of the street to make himself heard on the other, the acoustic +properties of the atmosphere not being what they should be. To-day +you can stand in the pulpit of your church, and by means of certain +scientific apparatus make yourself heard in Boston, New Orleans, or San +Francisco. Has this no bearing on the future? The time will come, Mr. +Whitechoker, when your missionaries will be able to sit in their +comfortable rectories, and ring up the heathen in foreign climes, and +convert them over the telephone, without running the slightest danger of +falling into the soup, which expression I use in its literal rather than +in its metaphorical sense." + +[Illustration: "YOU CAN MAKE YOURSELF HEARD IN SAN FRANCISCO"] + +"But--" interrupted Mr. Whitechoker. + +"Now wait, please," said the Idiot. "If science can annihilate degrees of +distance, who shall say that before many days science may not annihilate +degrees of time? If San Francisco, thousands of miles distant, can be +brought within range of the ear, why cannot 1990 be brought before the +mind's eye? And if 1990 can be brought before the mind's eye, what is to +prevent the invention of a prophetograph which shall enable us to cast a +horoscope which shall reach all around eternity and half-way back, if not +further?" + +[Illustration: THE PROPHETOGRAPH] + +"You do not understand me," said Mr. Whitechoker. "When I speak of the +future, I do not mean the temporal future." + +"I know exactly what you mean," said the Idiot. "I've dealt in futures, +and I am familiar with all kinds. It is you, sir, that do not understand +me. My claim is perfectly plausible, and in its results is bound to make +the world better. Do you suppose that any man who, by the aid of my +prophetograph, sees that on a certain date in the future he will be +hanged for murder is going to fail to provide himself with an alibi in +regard to that particular murder, and must we not admit that having +provided himself with that alibi he will of necessity avoid bloodshed, +and so avoid the gallows? That's reasonable. So in regard to all the +thousand and one other peccadilloes that go to make this life a sinful +one. Science, by a purely logical advance along the lines already mapped +out for itself, and in part already traversed, will enable men to avoid +the pitfalls and reap only the windfalls of life; we shall all see what +terrible consequences await on a single misstep, and we shall not make +the misstep. Can you still claim that science and the future have nothing +to do with each other?" + +"You are talking of matters purely temporal," said Mr. Whitechoker. "I +have reference to our spiritual future." + +"And the two," observed the Idiot, "are so closely allied that we cannot +separate them. The proverb about looking after the pennies and letting +the pounds take care of themselves applies here. I believe that if I take +care of my temporal future--which, by-the-way, does not exist--my +spiritual future will take care of itself; and if science places the +hereafter before us--and you admit that even now it is before us--all we +have to do is to take advantage of our opportunities, and mend our lives +accordingly." + +"But if science shows you what is to come," said the School-Master, "it +must show your fate with perfect accuracy, or it ceases to be science, in +which event your entertaining notions as to reform and so on are entirely +fallacious." + +"Not at all," said the Idiot. "We are approaching the time when science, +which is much more liberal than any other branch of knowledge, will +sacrifice even truth itself for the good of mankind." + +"You ought to start a paradox company," suggested the Doctor. + +"Either that or make himself the nucleus of an insane asylum," observed +the School-Master, viciously. "I never knew a man with such maniacal +views as those we have heard this morning." + +"There is a great deal, Mr. Pedagog, that you have never known," returned +the Idiot. "Stick by me, and you'll die with a mind richly stored." + +Whereat the School-Master left the table with such manifest impatience +that Mr. Whitechoker was sorry he had started the conversation. + +The genial gentleman who occasionally imbibed and the Idiot withdrew to +the latter's room, where the former observed: + +"What are you driving at, anyhow? Where did you get those crazy ideas?" + +"I ate a Welsh-rarebit last night, and dreamed 'em," returned the Idiot. + +"I thought as much," said his companion. "What deuced fine things dreams +are, anyhow!" + + + + +IX + + +Breakfast was very nearly over, and it was of such exceptionally good +quality that very few remarks had been made. Finally the ball was set +rolling by the Lawyer. + +"How many packs of cigarettes do you smoke a day?" he asked, as the Idiot +took one from his pocket and placed it at the side of his coffee-cup. + +"Never more than forty-six," said the Idiot. "Why? Do you think of +starting a cigarette stand?" + +"Not at all," said Mr. Brief. "I was only wondering what chance you had +to live to maturity, that's all. Your maturity period will be in about +eight hundred and sixty years from now, the way I calculate, and it +seemed to me that, judging from the number of cigarettes you smoke, you +were not likely to last through more than two or three of those years." + +"Oh, I expect to live longer than that," said the Idiot. "I think I'm +good for at least four years. Don't you, Doctor?" + +"I decline to have anything to say about your case," retorted the Doctor, +whose feeling towards the Idiot was not surpassingly affectionate. + +"In that event I shall probably live five years more," said the Idiot. + +The Doctor's lip curled, but he remained silent. + +"You'll live," put in Mr. Pedagog, with a chuckle. "The good die young." + +"How did you happen to keep alive all this time then, Mr. Pedagog?" asked +the Idiot. + +"I have always eschewed tobacco in every form, for one thing," said Mr. +Pedagog. + +"I am surprised," put in the Idiot. "That's really a bad habit, and I +marvel greatly that you should have done it." + +The School-Master frowned, and looked at the Idiot over the rims of his +glasses, as was his wont when he was intent upon getting explanations. + +"Done what?" he asked, severely. + +"Chewed tobacco," replied the Idiot. "You just said that one of the +things that has kept you lingering in this vale of tears was that you +have always chewed tobacco. I never did that, and I never shall do it, +because I deem it a detestable diversion." + +"I didn't say anything of the sort," retorted Mr. Pedagog, getting red in +the face. "I never said that I chewed tobacco in any form." + +"Oh, come!" said the Idiot, with well-feigned impatience, "what's the use +of talking that way? We all heard what you said, and I have no doubt that +it came as a shock to every member of this assemblage. It certainly was a +shock to me, because, with all my weaknesses and bad habits, I think +tobacco-chewing unutterably bad. The worst part of it is that you chew it +in every form. A man who chews chewing-tobacco only may some time throw +off the habit, but when one gets to be such a victim to it that he chews +up cigars and cigarettes and plugs of pipe tobacco, it seems to me he is +incurable. It is not only a bad habit then; it amounts to a vice." + +Mr. Pedagog was getting apoplectic. "You know well enough that I never +said the words you attribute to me," he said, sternly. + +"Really, Mr. Pedagog," returned the Idiot, with an irritating shake of +his head, as if he were confidentially hinting to the School-Master to +keep quiet--"really you pain me by these futile denials. Nobody forced +you into the confession. You made it entirely of your own volition. Now +I ask you, as a man and brother, what's the use of saying anything more +about it? We believe you to be a person of the strictest veracity, but +when you say a thing before a tableful of listeners one minute, and deny +it the next, we are forced to one of two conclusions, neither of which is +pleasing. We must conclude that either, repenting your confession, you +sacrifice the truth, or that the habit to which you have confessed has +entirely destroyed your perception of the moral question involved. Undue +use of tobacco has, I believe, driven men crazy. Opium-eating has +destroyed all regard for truth in one whose word had always been regarded +as good as a government bond. I presume the undue use of tobacco can +accomplish the same sad result. By-the-way, did you ever try opium?" + +"Opium is ruin," said the Doctor, Mr. Pedagog's indignation being so +great that he seemed to be unable to find the words he was evidently +desirous of hurling at the Idiot. + +"It is, indeed," said the Idiot. "I knew a man once who smoked one little +pipeful of it, and, while under its influence, sat down at his table and +wrote a story of the supernatural order that was so good that everybody +said he must have stolen it from Poe or some other master of the weird, +and now nobody will have anything to do with him. Tobacco, however, in +the sane use of it, is a good thing. I don't know of anything that is +more satisfying to the tired man than to lie back on a sofa, of an +evening, and puff clouds of smoke and rings into the air. One of the +finest dreams I ever had came from smoking. I had blown a great mountain +of smoke out into the room, and it seemed to become real, and I climbed +to its summit and saw the most beautiful country at my feet--a country in +which all men were happy, where there were no troubles of any kind, where +no whim was left ungratified, where jealousies were not, and where every +man who made more than enough to live on paid the surplus into the common +treasury for the use of those who hadn't made quite enough. It was a +national realization of the golden rule, and I maintain that if smoking +were bad nothing so good, even in the abstract form of an idea, could +come out of it." + +"That's a very nice thought," said the Poet. "I'd like to put that into +verse. The idea of a people dividing up their surplus of wealth among the +less successful strugglers is beautiful." + +"You can have it," said the Idiot, with a pleased smile. "I don't write +poetry of that kind myself unless I work hard, and I've found that when +the poet works hard he produces poems that read hard. You are welcome to +it. Another time I was dreaming over my cigar, after a day of the hardest +kind of trouble at the office. Everything had gone wrong with me, and I +was blue as indigo. I came home here, lit a cigar, and threw myself down +upon my bed and began to puff. I felt like a man in a deep pit, out of +which there was no way of getting. I closed my eyes for a second, and to +all intents and purposes I lay in that pit. And then what did tobacco do +for me? Why, it lifted me right out of my prison. I thought I was sitting +on a rock down in the depths. The stars twinkled tantalizingly above me. +They invited me to freedom, knowing that freedom was not attainable. Then +I blew a ring of smoke from my mouth, and it began to rise slowly at +first, and then, catching in a current of air, it flew upward more +rapidly, widening constantly, until it disappeared in the darkness above. +Then I had a thought. I filled my mouth as full of smoke as possible, and +blew forth the greatest ring you ever saw, and as it started to rise I +grasped it in my two hands. It struggled beneath my weight, lengthened +out into an elliptical link, and broke, and let me down with a dull thud. +Then I made two rings, grasping one with my left hand and the other with +my right--" + +[Illustration: "I GRASPED IT IN MY TWO HANDS"] + +"And they lifted you out of the pit, I suppose?" sneered the +Bibliomaniac. + +"I do not say that they did," said the Idiot, calmly. "But I do know that +when I opened my eyes I wasn't in the pit any longer, but up-stairs in my +hall-bedroom." + +"How awfully mysterious!" said the Doctor, satirically. + +"Well, I don't approve of smoking," said Mr. Whitechoker. "I agree with +the London divine who says it is the pastime of perdition. It is not +prompted by natural instincts. It is only the habit of artificial +civilization. Dogs and horses and birds get along without it. Why +shouldn't man?" + +"Hear! hear!" cried Mr. Pedagog, clapping his hands approvingly. + +"Where? where?" put in the Idiot. "That's a great argument. Dog's don't +put up in boarding-houses. Is the boarding-house, therefore, the result +of a degraded, artificial civilization? I have seen educated horses that +didn't smoke, but I have never seen an educated horse, or an uneducated +one, for that matter, that had even had the chance to smoke, or the kind +of mouth that would enable him to do it in case he had the chance. I +have also observed that horses don't read books, that birds don't eat +mutton-chops, that dogs don't go to the opera, that donkeys don't play +the piano--at least, four-legged donkeys don't--so you might as well +argue that since horses, dogs, birds, and donkeys get along without +literature, music, mutton-chops, and piano-playing--" + +"You've covered music," put in the Lawyer, who liked to be precise. + +"True; but piano-playing isn't always music," returned the Idiot. +"You might as well argue because the beasts and the birds do without +these things man ought to. Fish don't smoke, neither do they join the +police-force, therefore man should neither smoke nor become a guardian +of the peace." + +[Illustration: "PIANO-PLAYING ISN'T ALWAYS MUSIC"] + +"Nevertheless it is a pastime of perdition," insisted Mr. Whitechoker. + +"No, it isn't," retorted the Idiot. "Smoking is the business of +perdition. It smokes because it has to." + +"There! there!" remonstrated Mr. Pedagog. + +"You mean hear! hear! I presume," said the Idiot. + +"I mean that you have said enough!" remarked Mr. Pedagog, sharply. + +"Very well," said the Idiot. "If I have convinced you all I am satisfied, +not to say gratified. But really, Mr. Pedagog," he added, rising to leave +the room, "if I were you I'd give up the practice of chewing--" + +"Hold on a minute, Mr. Idiot," said Mr. Whitechoker, interrupting. He was +desirous that Mr. Pedagog should not be further irritated. "Let me ask +you one question. Does your old father smoke?" + +"No," said the Idiot, leaning easily over the back of his chair--"no. +What of it?" + +"Nothing at all--except that perhaps if he could get along without it you +might," suggested the clergyman. + +"He couldn't get along without it if he knew what good tobacco was," said +the Idiot. + +"Then why don't you introduce him to it?" asked the Minister. + +"Because I do not wish to make him unhappy," returned the Idiot, softly. +"He thinks his seventy years have been the happiest years that any mortal +ever had, and if now in his seventy-first year he discovered that during +the whole period of his manhood he had been deprived through ignorance of +so great a blessing as a good cigar, he'd become like the rest of us, +living in anticipation of delights to come, and not finding approximate +bliss in living over the past. Trust me, my dear Mr. Whitechoker, to look +after him. He and my mother and my life are all I have." + +The Idiot left the room, and Mr. Pedagog put in a greater part of the +next half-hour in making personal statements to the remaining boarders to +the effect that the word he used was eschewed, and not the one attributed +to him by the Idiot. + +Strange to say, most of them were already aware of that fact. + + + + +X + + +"The progress of invention in this country has been very remarkable," +said Mr. Pedagog, as he turned his attention from a scientific weekly he +had been reading to a towering pile of buckwheat cakes that Mary had just +brought in. "An Englishman has just discovered a means by which a ship in +distress at sea can write for help on the clouds." + +"Extraordinary!" said Mr. Whitechoker. + +"It might be more so," observed the Idiot, coaxing the platterful of +cakes out of the School-Master's reach by a dexterous movement of his +hand. "And it will be more so some day. The time is coming when the +moon itself will be used by some enterprising American to advertise his +soap business. I haven't any doubt that the next fifty years will develop +a stereopticon by means of which a picture of a certain brand of cigar +may be projected through space until it seems to be held between the +teeth of the man in the moon, with a printed legend below it stating +that this is _Tooforfivers Best, Rolled from Hand-made Tobacco, Warranted +not to Crock or Fade, and for sale by All Tobacconists at Eighteen for a +Dime_." + +[Illustration: "THE MOON ITSELF WILL BE USED"] + +"You would call that an advance in invention, eh?" asked the +School-Master. + +"Why not?" queried the Idiot. + +"Do you consider the invention which would enable man to debase nature to +the level of an advertising medium an advance?" + +"I should not consider the use of the moon for the dissemination of good +news a debasement. If the cigars were good--and I have no doubt that some +one will yet invent a cheap cigar that is good--it would benefit the +human race to be acquainted with that fact. I think sometimes that the +advertisements in the newspapers and the periodicals of the day are of +more value to the public than the reading-matter, so-called, that stands +next to them. I don't see why you should sneer at advertising. I should +never have known you, for instance, Mr. Pedagog, had it not been for Mrs. +Pedagog's advertisement offering board and lodging to single gentlemen +for a consideration. Nor would you have met Mrs. Smithers, now your +estimable wife, yourself, had it not been for that advertisement. Why, +then, do you sneer at the ladder upon which you have in a sense climbed +to your present happiness? You are ungrateful." + +"How you do ramify!" said Mr. Pedagog. "I believe there is no subject in +the world which you cannot connect in some way or another with every +other subject in the world. A discussion of the merits of Shakespeare's +sonnets could be turned by your dexterous tongue in five minutes into a +quarrel over the comparative merits of cider and cod-liver oil as +beverages, with you, the chances are, the advocate of cod-liver oil as +a steady drink." + +"Well, I must say," said the Idiot, with a smile, "it has been my +experience that cod-liver oil is steadier than cider. The cod-liver +oils I have had the pleasure of absorbing have been evenly vile, while +the ciders that I have drank have been of a variety of goodness, badness, +and indifferentness which has brought me to the point where I never touch +it. But to return to inventions, since you desire to limit our discussion +to a single subject, I think it is about the most interesting field of +speculation imaginable." + +"There you are right," said Mr. Pedagog, approvingly. "There is +absolutely no limit to the possibilities involved. It is almost within +the range of possibilities that some man may yet invent a buckwheat cake +that will satisfy your abnormal craving for that delicacy, which the +present total output of this table seems unable to do." + +Here Mr. Pedagog turned to his wife, and added: "My dear, will you +request the cook hereafter to prepare individual cakes for us? The Idiot +has so far monopolized all that have as yet appeared." + +"It appears to me," said the Idiot at this point, "that _you_ are the +ramifier, Mr. Pedagog. Nevertheless, ramify as much as you please. I can +follow you--at a safe distance, of course--in the discussion of anything, +from Edison to flapjacks. I think your suggestion regarding individual +cakes is a good one. We might all have separate griddles, upon which +Gladys, the cook, can prepare them, and on these griddles might be cast +in bold relief the crest of each member of this household, so that every +man's cake should, by an easy process in the making, come off the fire +indelibly engraved with the evidence of its destiny. Mr. Pedagog's iron, +for instance, might have upon it a school-book rampant, or a large head +in the same condition. Mr. Whitechoker's cake-mark might be a pulpit +rampant, based upon a vestryman dormant. The Doctor might have a lozengy +shield with a suitable tincture, while my genial friend who occasionally +imbibes could have a barry shield surmounted by a small effigy of +Gambrinus." + +"You appear to know something of heraldry," said the poet, with a look of +surprise. + +"I know something of everything," said the Idiot, complacently. + +"It's a pity you don't know everything about something," sneered the +Doctor. + +"I would suggest," said the School-Master, dryly, "that a little rampant +jackass would make a good crest for your cakes." + +"That's a very good idea," said the Idiot. "I do not know but that a +jackass rampant would be about as comprehensive of my virtues as anything +I might select. The jackass is a combination of all the best qualities. +He is determined. He minds his own business. He doesn't indulge in +flippant conversation. He is useful. Has no vices, never pretends to be +anything but a jackass, and most respectfully declines to be ridden by +Tom, Dick, and Harry. I accept the suggestion of Mr. Pedagog with thanks. +But we are still ramifying. Let us get back to inventions. Now I fully +believe that the time is coming when some inventive genius will devise a +method whereby intellect can be given to those who haven't any. I believe +that the time is coming when the secrets of the universe will be yielded +up to man by nature." + +[Illustration: "DECLINES TO BE RIDDEN"] + +"And then?" queried Mr. Brief. + +"Then some man will try to improve on the secrets of the universe. He +will try to invent an apparatus by means of which the rotation of the +world may be made faster or slower, according to his will. If he has but +one day, for instance, in which to do a stated piece of work, and he +needs two, he will put on some patent brake and slow the world up until +the distance travelled in one hour shall be reduced one-half, so that one +hour under the old system will be equivalent to two; or if he is +anticipating some joy, some diversion in the future, the same smart +person will find a way to increase the speed of the earth so that the +hours will be like minutes. Then he'll begin fooling with gravitation, +and he will discover a new-fashioned lodestone, which can be carried in +one's hat to counter-act the influence of the centre of gravity when one +falls out of a window or off a precipice, the result of which will be +that the person who falls off one of these high places will drop down +slowly, and not with the rapidity which at the present day is responsible +for the dreadful outcome of accidents of that sort. Then, finally--" + +"You pretend to be able to penetrate to the finality, do you?" asked the +Clergyman. + +"Why not? It is as easy to imagine the finality as it is to go half-way +there," returned the Idiot. "Finally he will tackle some elementary +principle of nature, and he'll blow the world to smithereens." + +There was silence at the table. This at least seemed to be a tenable +theory. That man should have the temerity to take liberties with +elementary principles was quite within reason, man being an animal of +rare conceit, and that the result would bring about destruction was not +at all at variance with probability. + +"I believe it's happened once or twice already," said the Idiot. + +"Do you really?" asked Mr. Pedagog, with a show of interest. "Upon what +do you base this belief?" + +"Well, take Africa," said the Idiot. "Take North America. What do we +find? We find in the sands of the Sahara a great statue, which we call +the Sphinx, and about which we know nothing, except that it is there and +that it keeps its mouth shut. We find marvellous creations in engineering +that to-day surpass anything that we can do. The Sphinx, when discovered, +was covered by sand. Now I believe that at one time there were people +much further advanced in science than ourselves, who made these wonderful +things, who knew how to do things that we don't even dream of doing, and +I believe that they, like this creature I have predicted, got fooling +with the centre of gravity, and that the world slipped its moorings for a +period of time, during which time it tumbled topsy-turvey into space, and +that banks and banks of sand and water and ice thrown out of position +simply swept on and over the whole surface of the globe continuously +until the earth got into the grip of the rest of the universe once more +and started along in a new orbit. We know that where we are high and dry +to-day the ocean must once have rolled. We know that where the world is +now all sunshine and flowers great glaciers stood. What caused all this +change? Nothing else, in my judgment, than the monkeying of man with the +forces of nature. The poles changed, and it wouldn't surprise me a bit +that, if the north pole were ever found and could be thawed out, we +should find embedded in that great sea of ice evidences of a former +civilization, just as in the Saharan waste evidences of the same thing +have been found. I know of a place out West that is literally strewn with +oyster-shells, and yet no man living has the slightest idea how they came +there. It may have been the Massachusetts Bay of a pre-historic time, for +all we know. It may have been an antediluvian Coney Island, for all the +world knows. Who shall say that this little upset of mine found here an +oyster-bed, shook all the oysters out of their bed into space, and left +their clothes high and dry in a locality which, but for those garments, +would seem never to have known the oyster in his prime? Off in +Westchester County, on the top of a high hill, lies a rock, and in the +uppermost portion of that rock is a so-called pot-hole, made by nothing +else than the dropping of water of a brook and the swirling of pebbles +therein. It is now beyond the reach of anything in the shape of water +save that which falls from the heavens. It is certain that this pot-hole +was never made by a boy with a watering-pot, by a hired man with a hose, +by a workman with a drill, or by any rain-storm that ever fell in +Westchester County. There must at some time or another have been a +stream there; and as streams do not flow uphill and bore pot-holes on +mountain-tops, there must have been a valley there. Some great cataclysm +took place. For that cataclysm nature must be held responsible mainly. +But what prompted nature to raise hob with Westchester County millions of +years ago, and to let it sleep like Rip Van Winkle ever since? Nature +isn't a freak. She is depicted as a woman, but in spite of that she is +not whimsical. She does not act upon impulses. There must have been some +cause for her behavior in turning valleys into hills, in transforming +huge cities into wastes of sand, and oyster-beds into shell quarries; and +it is my belief that man was the contributing cause. He tapped the earth +for natural gas; he bored in and he bored out, and he bored nature to +death, and then nature rose up and smote him and his cities and his +oyster-beds, and she'll do it again unless we go slow." + +"There is a great deal in what you say," said Mr. Whitechoker. + +"Very true," said Mrs. Pedagog. "But I wish he'd stop saying it. The last +three dozen cakes have got cold as ice while he was talking, and I can't +afford such reckless waste." + +"Nor we, Mrs. Pedagog," said the Idiot, with a pleasant smile; "for, as I +was saying to the Bibliomaniac this morning, your buckwheat cakes are, to +my mind, the very highest development of our modern civilization, and to +have even one of them wasted seems to me to be a crime against Nature +herself, for which a second, third, or fourth shaking up of this earth +would be an inadequate punishment." + +This remark so pleased Mrs. Pedagog that she ordered the cook to send up +a fresh lot of cakes; and the guests, after eating them, adjourned to +their various duties with light hearts, and digestions occupied with work +of great importance. + + + + +XI + + +"I wonder what would have happened if Columbus had not discovered +America?" said the Bibliomaniac, as the company prepared to partake of +the morning meal. + +"He would have gone home disappointed," said the Idiot, with a look of +surprise on his face, which seemed to indicate that in his opinion the +Bibliomaniac was very dull-witted not to have solved the problem for +himself. "He would have gone home disappointed, and we would now be +foreigners, like most other Americans. Mr. Pedagog would doubtless be +instructing the young scions of the aristocracy of Tipperary, Mr. +Whitechoker would be Archbishop of Canterbury, the Bibliomaniac would be +raising bulbs in Holland, and----" + +[Illustration: "THE BIBLIOMANIAC WOULD BE RAISING BULBS"] + +"And you would be wandering about with the other wild men of Borneo at +the present time," put in the School-Master. + +"No," said the Idiot. "Not quite. I should be dividing my time up between +Holland, France, Switzerland, and Spain." + +"You are an international sort of Idiot, eh?" queried the Lawyer, with a +chuckle at his own wit. + +"Say rather a cosmopolitan Idiot," said the Idiot. "Among my ancestors +I number individuals of various nations, though I suppose that if we go +back far enough we were all in the same boat as far as that is concerned. +One of my great-great-grandfathers was a Scotchman, one of them was a +Dutchman, another was a Spaniard, a fourth was a Frenchman. What the +others were I don't know. It's a nuisance looking up one's ancestors, +I think. They increase so as you go back into the past. Every man +has had two grandfathers, four great-grandfathers, eight +great-great-grandfathers, sixteen great-great-great-grandfathers, +thirty-two fathers raised to the fourth power of great-grandness, and +so on, increasing in number as you go further back, until it is hardly +possible for any one to throw a brick into the pages of history without +hitting somebody who is more or less responsible for his existence. I +dare say there is a streak of Julius Cæsar in me, and I haven't a doubt +that if our friend Mr. Pedagog here were to take the trouble to +investigate, he would find that Cæsar and Cassius and Brutus could be +numbered among his early progenitors--and now that I think of it, +I must say that in my estimation he is an unusually amiable man, +considering how diverse the nature of these men were. Think of it for +a minute. Here a man unites in himself Cæsar and Cassius and Brutus, +two of whom killed the third, and then, having quarrelled together, +went out upon a battle-field and slaughtered themselves, after making +extemporaneous remarks, for which this miserable world gives Shakespeare +all the credit. It's worse than the case of a friend of mine, one of +whose grandfathers was French and the other German." + +"How did it affect him?" asked Mr. Whitechoker. + +"It made him distrust himself," said the Idiot, with a smile, "and for +that reason he never could get on in the world. When his Teutonic nature +suggested that he do something, his Gallic blood would rise up and spoil +everything, and _vice versa_. He was eternally quarrelling with himself. +He was a victim to internal disorder of the worst sort." + +"And what, pray, finally became of him?" asked the Clergyman. + +"He shot himself in a duel," returned the Idiot, with a wink at the +genial old gentleman who occasionally imbibed. "It was very sad." + +"I've known sadder things," said Mr. Pedagog, wearily. "Your elaborate +jokes, for instance. They are enough to make strong men weep." + +"You flatter me, Mr. Pedagog," said the Idiot. "I have never in all my +experience as a cracker of jests made a man laugh until he cried, but I +hope to some day. But, really, do you know I think Columbus is an +immensely overrated man. If you come down to it, what did he do? He went +out to sea in a ship and sailed for three months, and when he least +expected it ran slam-bang up against the Western Hemisphere. It was like +shooting at a barn door with a Gatling gun. He was bound to hit it sooner +or later." + +"You don't give him any credit for tenacity of purpose or good judgment, +then?" asked Mr. Brief. + +"Of course I do. Plenty of it. He stuck to his ship like a hero who +didn't know how to swim. His judgment was great. He had too much sense +to go back to Spain without any news of something, because he fully +understood that unless he had something to show for the trip, there would +have been a great laugh on Queen Isabella for selling her jewels to +provide for a ninety-day yacht cruise for him and a lot of common +sailors, which would never have done. So he kept on and on, and finally +some unknown lookout up in the bow discovered America. Then Columbus +went home and told everybody that if it hadn't been for his own eagle eye +emigration wouldn't have been invented, and world's fairs would have been +local institutions. Then they got up a parade in which the King and Queen +graciously took part, and Columbus became a great man. Meanwhile the +unknown lookout who did discover the land was knocking about the town and +thinking he was a very lucky fellow to get an extra glass of grog. It +wasn't anything more than the absolute justice of fate that caused the +new land to be named America and not Columbia. It really ought to have +been named after that fellow up in the bow." + +"But, my dear Idiot," put in the Bibliomaniac, "the scheme itself was +Columbus's own. He evolved the theory that the earth is round like a +ball." + +"To quote Mr. Pedagog--" began the Idiot. + +"You can't quote me in your own favor," snapped the School-Master. + +"Wait until I have finished," said the Idiot. "I was only going to quote +you by saying 'Tutt!' that's all; and so I repeat, in the words of Mr. +Pedagog, tutt, tutt! Evolved the theory? Why, man, how could he help +evolving the theory? There was the sun rising in the east every morning +and setting in the west every night. What else was there to believe? That +somebody put the sun out every night, and sneaked back east with it under +cover of darkness?" + +"But you forget that the wise men of the day laughed at his idea," said +Mr. Pedagog, surveying the Idiot after the fashion of a man who has dealt +an adversary a stinging blow. + +"That only proves what I have always said," replied the Idiot. "Wise men +can't find fun in anything but stern facts. Wise men always do laugh at +truth. Whenever I advance some new proposition, you sit up there next to +Mrs. Pedagog and indulge in tutt-tutterances of the most intolerant sort. +If you had been one of the wise men of Columbus's time there isn't any +doubt in my mind that when Columbus said the earth was round, you'd have +remarked tutt, tutt, in Spanish." There was silence for a minute, and +then the Idiot began again. "There's another point about this whole +business that makes me tired," he said. "It only goes to prove the +conceit of these Europeans. Here was a great continent inhabited by +countless people. A European comes over here and is said to be the +discoverer of America and is glorified. Statues of him are scattered +broad-cast all over the world. Pictures of him are printed in the +newspapers and magazines. A dozen different varieties of portraits of +him are printed on postage-stamps as big as circus posters--and all for +what? Because he discovered a land that millions of Indians had known +about for centuries. On the other hand, when Columbus goes back to Spain +several of the native Americans trust their precious lives to his old +tubs. One of these savages must have been the first American to discover +Europe. Where are the statues of the Indian who discovered Europe? Where +are the postage-stamps showing how he looked on the day when Europe first +struck his vision? Where is anybody spending a billion of dollars getting +up a world's fair in commemoration of Lo's discovery of Europe?" + +"He didn't know it was Europe," said the Bibliomaniac. + +"Columbus didn't know this was America," retorted the Idiot. "In fact, +Columbus didn't know anything. He didn't know any better than to write a +letter to Queen Isabella and mail it in a keg that never turned up. He +didn't even know how to steer his old boat into a real solid continent, +instead of getting ten days on the island. He was an awfully wise man. He +saw an island swarming with Indians, and said, 'Why, this must be India!' +And worst of all, if his pictures mean anything, he didn't even know +enough to choose his face and stick to it. Don't talk Columbus to me +unless you want to prove that luck is the greatest factor of success." + +[Illustration: "DIDN'T KNOW ENOUGH TO CHOOSE HIS OWN FACE"] + +"Ill-luck is sometimes a factor of success," said Mr. Pedagog. "You are a +success as an Idiot, which appears to me to be extremely unfortunate." + +"I don't know about that," said the Idiot. "I adapt myself to my company, +and of course--" + +"Then you are a school-master among school-masters, a lawyer among +lawyers, and so forth?" queried the Bibliomaniac. + +"What are you when your company is made up of widely diverse characters?" +asked Mr. Brief before the Idiot had a chance to reply to the +Bibliomaniac's question. + +"I try to be a widely diverse character myself." + +"And, trying to sit on many stools, fall and become just an Idiot," said +Mr. Pedagog. + +"That's according to the way you look at it. I put my company to the test +in the crucible of my mind. I analyze the characters of all about me, and +whatever quality predominates in the precipitate, that I become. Thus in +the presence of my employer and his office-boy I become a mixture of +both--something of the employer, something of an office-boy. I run +errands for my employer, and boss the office-boy. With you gentlemen I +go through the same process. The Bibliomaniac, the School-Master, Mr. +Brief, and the rest of you have been cast into the crucible, and I have +tried to approximate the result." + +"And are an Idiot," said the School-Master. + +"It is your own name for me, gentlemen," returned the Idiot. "I presume +you have recognized your composite self, and have chosen the title +accordingly." + + * * * * * + +"You were a little hard on me this morning, weren't you?" asked the +genial old gentleman who occasionally imbibed, that evening, when he and +the Idiot were discussing the morning's chat. "I didn't like to say +anything about it, but I don't think you ought to have thrown me into the +crucible with the rest." + +"I wish you had spoken," said the Idiot, warmly. "It would have given me +a chance to say that the grain of sense that once or twice a year leavens +the lump of my idiocy is directly due to the ingredient furnished by +yourself. Here's to you, old man. If you and I lived alone together, what +a wise man I should be!" + +And then the genial old gentleman went to the cupboard and got out a +bottle of port-wine that he had been preserving in cobwebs for ten years. +This he opened, and as he did so he said, "I've been keeping this for +years, my boy. It was dedicated in my youth to the thirst of the first +man who truly appreciated me. Take it all." + +"I'll divide with you," returned the Idiot, with a smile. "For really, +old fellow, I think you--ah--I think you appreciate yourself as much as +I do." + + + + +XII + + +"I wonder what it costs to run a flat?" said the Idiot, stirring his +coffee with the salt-spoon--a proceeding which seemed to indicate that he +was thinking of something else. + +"Don't you keep an expense account?" asked the Bibliomaniac, slyly. + +"Hee-hee!" laughed Mrs. Pedagog. + +"First-rate joke," said the Idiot, with a smile. "But really, now, +I should like to know for how little an apartment could be run. I am +interested." + +Mrs. Pedagog stopped laughing at once. The Idiot's words were ominous. +She did not always like his views, but she did like his money, and she +was not at all anxious to lose him as a boarder. + +"It's very expensive," she said, firmly. "I shouldn't ever advise any +one to undertake living in a flat. Rents are high. Butcher bills are +enormous, because the butchers have to pay commissions, not only to the +cook, so that she'll use twice as much lard as she can, and give away +three or four times as much to the poor as she ought, but janitors have +to be seen to, and elevator-boys, and all that. Groceries come high for +the same reason. Oh, no! Flat life isn't the life for anybody, I say. +Give me a good, first-class boarding-house. Am I not right, John?" + +[Illustration: "JANITORS HAVE TO BE SEEN TO"] + +"Yes, indeed," said Mr. Pedagog. "Every time. I lived in a flat once, +and it was an awful nuisance. Above me lived a dancing-master who gave +lessons at every hour of the day in the room directly over my study, +so that I was always being disturbed at my work, while below me was a +music-teacher who was practising all night, so that I could hardly sleep. +Worst of all, on the same floor with me was a miserable person of +convivial tendencies, who always mistook my door for his when he came +home after midnight, and who gave some quite estimable people two +floors below to believe that it was I, and not he, who sang comic songs +between three and four o'clock in the morning. There has not been too +much love lost between the Idiot and myself, but I cannot be so +vindictive as to recommend him to live in a flat." + +"I can bear testimony to the same effect," put in Mr. Brief, who was two +weeks in arrears, and anxious to conciliate his landlady. + +"Testimony to the effect that Mr. Pedagog sang comic songs in the early +morning?" said the Idiot. "Nonsense! I don't believe it. I have lived in +this house for two years with Mr. Pedagog, and I've never heard him raise +his voice in song yet." + +"I didn't mean anything of the sort," retorted Mr. Brief. "You know I +didn't." + +"Don't apologize to me," said the Idiot. "Apologize to Mr. Pedagog. He is +the man you have wronged." + +"What did he say?" put in Mr. Pedagog, with a stern look at Mr. Brief. "I +didn't hear what he said." + +"I didn't say anything," said the lawyer, "except that I could bear +testimony to the effect that your experience with flat life was similar +to mine. This young person, with his customary nerve, tries to make it +appear that I said you sang comic songs in the early morning." + +"I try to do nothing of the sort," said the Idiot. "I simply expressed my +belief that in spite of what you said Mr. Pedagog was innocent, and I do +so because my experience with him has taught me that he is not the kind +of man who would do that sort of thing. He has neither time, voice, nor +inclination. He has an ear--two of them, in fact--and an impressionable +mind, but--" + +"Oh, tutt!" interrupted the School-Master. "When I need a defender, you +may spare yourself the trouble of flying to my rescue." + +"I know I _may_," said the Idiot, "but with me it's a question of can and +can't. I'm willing to attack you personally, but while I live no other +shall do so. Wherefore I tell Mr. Brief plainly, and to his face, that if +he says you ever sang a comic song he says what is not so. You might hum +one, but sing it--never!" + +"We were talking of flats, I believe," said Mr. Whitechoker. + +"Yes," said the Idiot, "and these persons have changed it from flat talk +to sharp talk." + +"Well, anyhow," put in Mr. Brief, "I lived in a flat once, and it was +anything but pleasant. I lost a case once for the simple and only reason +that I lived in a flat. It was a case that required a great deal of +strategy on my part, and I invited my client to my home to unfold my plan +of action. I got interested in the scheme as I unfolded it, and spoke in +my usual impassioned manner, as though addressing a jury, and, would you +believe it, the opposing counsel happened to be visiting a friend on the +next floor, and my eloquence floated up through the air-shaft, and gave +our whole plan of action away. We were routed on the point we had +supposed would pierce the enemy's armor and lay him at our feet, for the +wholly simple reason that that abominable air-shaft had made my strategic +move a matter of public knowledge." + +[Illustration: "MY ELOQUENCE FLOATED UP THE AIR-SHAFT"] + +"That's a good idea for a play," said the Idiot. "A roaring farce could +be built up on that basis. Villain and accomplice on one floor, innocent +victim on floor above. Plot floats up air-shaft. Innocent victim +overhears; villain and accomplice say 'ha ha' for three acts and take +a back seat in the fourth, with a grand transformation showing the +conspirators in the county jail as a finale. Write it up with lots of +live-stock wandering in and out, bring in janitors and elevator-boys +and butchers, show up some of the humors of flat life, if there be any +such, call it _A Hole in the Flat_, and put it on the stage. Nine hundred +nights is the very shortest run it could have, which at fifty dollars a +night for the author is $45,000 in good hard dollars. Mr. Poet, the idea +is yours for a fiver. Say the word." + +"Thanks," said the Poet, with a smile; "I'm not a dramatist." + +"Then I'll have to do it myself," said the Idiot. "And if I do, good-bye +Shakespeare." + +"That's so," said Mr. Pedagog. "Nothing could more effectually ruin the +dramatic art than to have you write a play. People, seeing your work, +would say, here, this will never do. The stage must be discouraged at all +costs. A hypocrite throws the ministry into disgrace, an ignoramus brings +shame upon education, and an unpopular lawyer gives the bar a bad name. I +think you are just the man to ruin Shakespeare." + +"Then I'll give up my ambition to become a playwright and stick to +idiocy," said the Idiot. "But to come back to flats. Your feeling in +regard to them is entirely different from that of a friend of mine, who +has lived in one for ten years. He thinks flat life is ideal. His +children can't fall down-stairs, because there aren't any stairs to fall +down. His roof never leaks, because he hasn't any roof to leak; and when +he and his family want to go off anywhere, all he has to do is to lock +his front door and go. Burglars never climb into his front window, +because they are all eight flights up. Damp cellars don't trouble him, +because they are too far down to do him any injury, even if they +overflow. The cares of house-keeping are reduced to a minimum. His cook +doesn't spend all her time in the front area flirting with the postman, +because there isn't any front area to his flat; and in a social way his +wife is most delightfully situated, because most of her friends live in +the same building, and instead of having to hire a carriage to go calling +in, all she has to do is to take the elevator and go from one floor to +another. If he pines for a change of scene, he is high enough up in the +air to get it by looking out of his windows, over the tops of other +buildings, into the green fields to the north, or looking westward into +the State of New Jersey. Instead of taking a drive through the Park, or +a walk, all he and his wife need to do is to take a telescope and follow +some little sylvan path with their eyes. Then, as for expense, he finds +that he saves money by means of a co-operative scheme. For instance, if +he wants shad for dinner, and he and his wife cannot eat a whole one, he +goes shares on the shad and its cost with his neighbors above and below." + +"Yes, and his neighbors above and below borrow tea and eggs and butter +and ice and other things whenever they run short, so that in that way he +loses all he saves," said Mr. Pedagog, resolved not to give in. + +"He does if he isn't smart," said the Idiot. "I thought of that myself, +and asked him about it, and he told me that he kept account of all that, +and always made it a point after some neighbor had borrowed two pounds +of butter from him to send in before the week was over and borrow three +pounds of butter from the neighbor. So far his books show that he is +sixteen pounds of butter, seven pounds of tea, one bottle of vanilla +extract, and a ton of ice ahead of the whole house. He is six eggs and +a box of matches behind in his egg and match account, but under the +circumstances I think he can afford it." + +"But," said Mrs. Pedagog, anxious to know the worst, "why--er--why are +you so interested?" + +"Well," said the Idiot, slowly, "I--er--I am contemplating a change, Mrs. +Pedagog--a change that would fill me--I say it sincerely, too--with +regret if--" The Idiot paused a minute, and his eye swept fondly about +the table. His voice was getting a little husky too, Mr. Whitechoker +noticed. "It would fill me with regret, I say, if it were not that +in taking up house-keeping I am--I am to have the assistance of a +better-half." + +"What??" cried the Bibliomaniac. "You? You are going to be--to be +married?" + +"Why not?" said the Idiot. "Imitation is the sincerest flattery. Mr. +Pedagog marries, and I am going to flatter him as sincerely as I can by +following in his footsteps." + +"May I--may we ask to whom?" asked Mrs. Pedagog, softly. + +"Certainly," said the Idiot. "To Mr. Barlow's daughter. Mr. Barlow is--or +was--my employer." + +"Was? Is he not now? Are you going out of business?" asked Mr. Pedagog. + +"No; but, you see, when I went to see Mr. Barlow in the matter, he told +me that he liked me very much, and he had no doubt I would make a good +husband for his daughter, but, after all, he added that I was nothing +but a confidential clerk on a small salary, and he thought his daughter +could do better." + +"She couldn't find a better fellow, Mr. Idiot," said Mrs. Pedagog, and +Mr. Pedagog rose to the occasion by nodding his entire acquiescence in +the statement. + +"Thank you very much," said the Idiot. "That was precisely what I told +Mr. Barlow, and I suggested a scheme to him by which his sole objection +could be got around." + +"You would start in business for yourself?" said Mr. Whitechoker. + +"In a sense, yes," said the Idiot. "Only the way I put it was that a good +confidential clerk would make a good partner for him, and he, after +thinking it over, thought I was right." + +"It certainly was a characteristically novel way out of the dilemma," +said Mr. Brief, with a smile. + +"I thought so myself, and so did he, so it was all arranged. On the 1st +of next month I enter the firm, and on the 15th I am--ah--to be married." + +The company warmly congratulated the Idiot upon his good-fortune, and he +shortly left the room, more overcome by their felicitations than he had +been by their arguments in the past. + +The few days left passed quickly by, and there came a breakfast at Mrs. +Pedagog's house that was a mixture of joy and sadness--joy for his +happiness, sadness that that table should know the Idiot no more. + +Among the wedding-gifts was a handsomely bound series of volumes, +including a cyclopædia, a dictionary, and a little tome of poems, the +first output of the Poet. These came together, with a card inscribed, +"From your Friends of the Breakfast Table," of whom the Idiot said, when +Mrs. Idiot asked for information: + +"They, my dear, next to yourself and my parents, are the dearest friends +I ever had. We must have them up to breakfast some morning." + +"Breakfast?" queried Mrs. Idiot. + +"Yes, my dear," he replied, simply. "I should be afraid to meet them at +any other meal. I am always at my best at breakfast, and they--well, they +never are." + + +THE END + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +BY JOHN KENDRICK BANGS + + +Mr. Bonaparte of Corsica. + +Mr. Bangs is probably the generator of more hearty, healthful, purely +good-humored laughs than any other half-dozen men of our country +to-day.--_Interior_, Chicago. + + +The Idiot. + +"The Idiot," continues to be as amusing and as triumphantly bright in the +volume called after his name as in "Coffee and Repartee."--_Evangelist_, +N. Y. + + +The Water Ghost, and Others. + +The funny side of the ghost genre is brought out with originality, and, +considering the morbidity that surrounds the subject, it is a wholesome +thing to offer the public a series of tales letting in the sunlight of +laughter.--_Hartford Courant_. + + +Three Weeks in Politics. + +The funny story is most graphically told, and he who can read this +narrative of a campaigner's trials without laughing must be a stoic +indeed.--_Philadelphia Bulletin_. + + +Coffee and Repartee. + + +Is delightfully free from conventionality; is breezy, witty, and +possessed of an originality both genial and refreshing.--_Saturday +Evening Gazette_, Boston. + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE IDIOT*** + + +******* This file should be named 18881-8.txt or 18881-8.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/8/8/8/18881 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at <a href = "http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre> +<p>Title: The Idiot</p> +<p>Author: John Kendrick Bangs</p> +<p>Release Date: July 20, 2006 [eBook #18881]</p> +<p>Language: English</p> +<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p> +<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE IDIOT***</p> +<p> </p> +<h3>E-text prepared by Suzanne Shell, Mary Meehan,<br /> + and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br /> + (http://www.pgdp.net/)</h3> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p> </p> + + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + + + +<h1>THE IDIOT</h1> + +<h2>BY JOHN KENDRICK BANGS</h2> + +<h3>AUTHOR OF "COFFEE AND REPARTEE" "THE WATER GHOST, AND OTHERS" "THREE +WEEKS IN POLITICS" ETC.</h3> + +<h3>ILLUSTRATED</h3> + +<h3>NEW YORK<br /> +HARPER & BROTHERS PUBLISHERS<br /> +1895</h3> + +<h3>Copyright, 1895, by <span class="smcap">Harper & Brothers</span></h3> + + +<h3><i>All rights reserved.</i></h3> + +<h3>TO WILLIAM K. OTIS</h3> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + +<!-- Autogenerated TOC. Modify or delete as required. --> +<p> +<a href="#I">I</a><br /> +<a href="#II">II</a><br /> +<a href="#III">III</a><br /> +<a href="#IV">IV</a><br /> +<a href="#V">V</a><br /> +<a href="#VI">VI</a><br /> +<a href="#VII">VII</a><br /> +<a href="#VIII">VIII</a><br /> +<a href="#IX">IX</a><br /> +<a href="#X">X</a><br /> +<a href="#XI">XI</a><br /> +<a href="#XII">XII</a><br /> +<a href="#BY_JOHN_KENDRICK_BANGS">BY JOHN KENDRICK BANGS</a><br /> +</p> +<!-- End Autogenerated TOC. --> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2>ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> + + + +<p><a href="#gs002">"THE NUISANCE OF HAVING TO PAY"</a></p> + +<p><a href="#gs003">"SHE COULD NOT POSSIBLY GET ABOARD AGAIN"</a></p> + +<p><a href="#gs001">"CERTAINLY. I ASKED FOR ANOTHER CUP"</a></p> + +<p><a href="#gs004">"DEMANDS TICKETS FOR TWO"</a></p> + +<p><a href="#gs005">"THEY ARE GIVEN TO REHEARSING AT ALL HOURS"</a></p> + +<p><a href="#gs006">"'HA! HA! I HAVE HIM NOW!'"</a></p> + +<p><a href="#gs007">"HAS YOUR FRIEND COMPLETED HIS ARTICLE ON OLD JOKES?"</a></p> + +<p><a href="#gs008">THEY DEPARTED</a></p> + +<p><a href="#gs009">"YOU FISH ALL DAY, AND HAVE NO LUCK"</a></p> + +<p><a href="#gs010">HE COULD BE HEARD THROWING THINGS ABOUT</a></p> + +<p><a href="#gs011">"HE WAS NOT MURDERED"</a></p> + +<p><a href="#gs012">"SUPERINTENDENT SMITHERS HAS NOT ABSCONDED"</a></p> + +<p><a href="#gs013">THE INSPIRED BOARDER PAID HIS BILL</a></p> + +<p><a href="#gs014">"I KNOW YOU CAN'T, BECAUSE IT ISN'T THERE"</a></p> + +<p><a href="#gs015">"YOU CAN MAKE YOURSELF HEARD IN SAN FRANCISCO"</a></p> + +<p><a href="#gs016">THE PROPHETOGRAPH</a></p> + +<p><a href="#gs017">"I GRASPED IT IN MY TWO HANDS"</a></p> + +<p><a href="#gs018">"PIANO-PLAYING ISN'T ALWAYS MUSIC"</a></p> + +<p><a href="#gs019">"THE MOON ITSELF WILL BE USED"</a></p> + +<p><a href="#gs020">"DECLINES TO BE RIDDEN"</a></p> + +<p><a href="#gs021">"THE BIBLIOMANIAC WOULD BE RAISING BULBS"</a></p> + +<p><a href="#gs022">"DIDN'T KNOW ENOUGH TO CHOOSE HIS OWN FACE"</a></p> + +<p><a href="#gs023">"JANITORS HAVE TO BE SEEN TO"</a></p> + +<p><a href="#gs024">"MY ELOQUENCE FLOATED UP THE AIR-SHAFT"</a></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_IDIOT" id="THE_IDIOT"></a>THE IDIOT</h2> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="I" id="I"></a>I</h2> + + +<p>For some weeks after the happy event which transformed the popular Mrs. +Smithers into the charming Mrs. John Pedagog all went well at that lady's +select home for single gentlemen. It was only proper that during the +honey-moon, at least, of the happy couple hostilities between the Idiot +and his fellow-boarders should cease. It was expecting too much of +mankind, however, to look for a continued armistice, and the morning +arrived when Nature once more reasserted herself, and trouble began. Just +what it was that prompted the remark no one knows, but it happened that +the Idiot did say that he thought that, after all, life on a canal-boat +had its advantages. Mr. Pedagog, who had come into the dining-room in a +slightly irritable frame of mind, induced perhaps by Mrs. Pedagog's +insistence that as he was now part proprietor of the house he should be +a little more prompt in making his contributions towards its maintenance, +chose to take the remark as implying a reflection upon the way things +were managed in the household.</p> + +<p>"Humph!" he said. "I had hoped that your habit of airing your idiotic +views had been put aside for once and for all."</p> + +<p>"Very absurd hope, my dear sir," observed the Idiot. "Views that are not +aired become musty. Why shouldn't I give them an atmospheric opportunity +once in a while?"</p> + +<p>"Because they are the sort of views to which suffocation is the most +appropriate end," snapped the School-Master. "Any man who asserts, as you +have asserted, that life on a canal-boat has its advantages, ought to go +further, and prove his sincerity by living on one."</p> + +<p>"I can't afford it," said the Idiot, meekly. "It isn't cheap by any +manner of means. In the first place, you can't live happily on a +canal-boat unless you can afford to keep horses. In fact, canal-boat life +is a combination of the most expensive luxuries, since it combines +yachting and driving with domesticity. Nevertheless, if you will put your +mind on it, you will find that with a canal-boat for your home you can do +a great many things that you can't do with a house."</p> + +<p>"I decline to put my mind on a canal-boat," said Mr. Pedagog, sharply, +passing his coffee back to Mrs. Pedagog for another lump of sugar, +thereby contributing to that good lady's discomfiture, since before their +marriage the mere fact that the coffee had been poured by her fair hand +had given it all the sweetness it needed; or at least that was what the +School-Master had said, and more than once at that.</p> + +<p>"You are under no obligation to do so," the Idiot returned. "Though if I +had a mind like yours I'd put it on a canal-boat and have it towed away +somewhere out of sight. These other gentlemen, however, I think, will +agree with me when I say that the mere fact that a canal-boat can be +moved about the country, and is in no sense a fixture anywhere, shows +that as a dwelling-place it is superior to a house. Take this house, for +instance. This neighborhood used to be the best in town. It is still far +from being the worst neighborhood in town, but it is, as it has been for +several years, deteriorating. The establishment of a Turkish bath on one +corner and a grocery-store on the other has taken away much of that air +of refinement which characterized it when the block was devoted to +residential purposes entirely. Now just suppose for a moment that this +street were a canal, and that this house were a canal-boat. The canal +could run down as much as it pleased, the neighborhood could deteriorate +eternally, but it could not affect the value of this house as the home of +refined people as long as it was possible to hitch up a team of horses to +the front stoop and tow it into a better locality. I'd like to wager +every man at this table that Mrs. Pedagog wouldn't take five minutes to +make up her mind to tow this house up to a spot near Central Park, if it +were a canal-boat and the streets were water instead of a mixture of +water, sand, and Belgian blocks."</p> + +<p>"No takers," said the Bibliomaniac.</p> + +<p>"Tutt-tutt-tutt," ejaculated Mr. Pedagog.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="gs002" id="gs002"></a> +<img src="images/gs002.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<h3>"THE NUISANCE OF HAVING TO PAY"</h3> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + + +<p>"You seem to lose sight of another fact," said the Idiot, warming up to +his subject. "If man had had the sense in the beginning to adopt the +canal-boat system of life, and we were used to that sort of thing, it +would not be so hard upon us in summer-time, when we have to live in +hotels in order that we and our families may reap the benefits of a +period of country life. We could simply drive off to that section of the +country where we desired to be. Hotels would not be needed if a man could +take his house along with him into the fields, and one phase of life +which has more bad than good in it would be entirely obliterated. There +is nothing more disturbing to the serenity of a domestic man's mind than +the artificial manner of living that prevails in most summer hotels. The +nuisance of having to pay bills every Monday morning under the penalty of +losing one's luggage would be obviated, and all the comforts of home +would be directly within reach. The trouble incident upon getting the +trunks packed and the children ready for a long day's journey by rail, +and the fatigue arising from such a journey, would be reduced to a +minimum. The troubles attendant upon going into a far country, and +leaving one's house in the sole charge of a lot of servants for a month +or two every year, would be done away with entirely; and if at any time +it became necessary to discharge one of these servants, she could be put +off the boat in an instant, and then the boat could be pushed out into +the middle of the canal, so that the discharged domestic could not +possibly get aboard again and take her revenge by smashing your crockery +and fixtures. That is one of the worst features of living in a stationary +house. You are entirely at the mercy of vindictive servants. They know +precisely where you live, and you cannot escape them. They can come back +when there is no man around, and raise several varieties of Ned with your +wife and children. With a movable house, such as the canal-boat would be, +you could always go off and leave your family in perfect safety."</p> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="gs003" id="gs003"></a> +<img src="images/gs003.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<h3>"SHE COULD NOT POSSIBLY GET ABOARD AGAIN"</h3> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p>"How about safety in a storm?" asked the Bibliomaniac.</p> + +<p>"Safety in a storm?" echoed the Idiot. "That seems an absurd sort of a +question to one who knows anything about canal-boats. I, for one, never +heard of a canal-boat being seriously damaged in a storm as long as it +was anchored in the canal proper. It certainly isn't any more dangerous +to be in a canal-boat in a storm than it is to be in a house that +offers resistance to the winds, and is shaken from roof to cellar at +every blast. More houses have been blown from their foundations than +canal-boats sunk, provided ordinary care has been taken to protect +them."</p> + +<p>"And you think the canal-boat would be healthy?" asked the Doctor. "How +about dampness and all that?"</p> + +<p>"That is a professional question," returned the Idiot, "which I think you +could answer better than I. I don't see why a canal-boat shouldn't be +healthy, however. The dampness would not amount to very much. It would be +outside of one's dwelling, and not within it, as is the case with so many +houses. A canal-boat having no cellar could not have a damp one, and if +by some untoward circumstance it should spring a leak, the water could +be pumped out at once and the leak plugged up. However this might be, +I'll offer another wager to this board on that point, and that is that +more people die in houses than on canal-boats."</p> + +<p>"We'd rather give you our money right out," retorted the Doctor.</p> + +<p>"Thank you," said the Idiot. "But I don't need money. I don't like money. +Money is responsible for more extravagance than any other commodity in +existence. Besides, it and I are not intimate enough to get along very +well together, and when I have any I immediately do my level best to rid +myself of it. But to return to our canal-boat, I note a look of +disapproval in Mr. Whitechoker's eyes. He doesn't seem to think any +more of my scheme than do the rest of you—which I regret, since I +believe that he would be the gainer if land edifices were supplanted by +the canal system as proposed by myself. Take church on a rainy morning, +for instance. A great many people stay at home from church on rainy +mornings just because they do not want to venture out in the wet. Suppose +we all lived in canal-boats? Would not people be deprived of this flimsy +pretext for staying at home if their homes could be towed up to the +church door? Or, better yet, granting that the churches followed out the +same plan, and were themselves constructed like canal-boats, how easy it +would be for the sexton to drive the church around the town and collect +the absentees. In the same manner it would be glorious for men like +ourselves, who have to go to their daily toil. For a consideration, Mrs. +Pedagog could have us driven to our various places of business every +morning, returning for us in the evening. Think how fine it would be for +me, for instance, instead of having to come home every night in an +overcrowded elevated train or on a cable-car, to have the office-boy come +and announce, 'Mrs. Pedagog's Select Home for Gentlemen is at the door, +Mr. Idiot.' I could step right out of my office into my charming little +bedroom up in the bow, and the time usually expended on the cars could be +devoted to dressing for tea. Then we could stop in at the court-house for +our legal friend; and as for Doctor Capsule, wouldn't he revel in driving +this boarding-house about town on his daily rounds among his patients?"</p> + +<p>"What would become of my office hours?" asked the Doctor. "If this house +were whirling giddily all about the city from morning until night, I +don't know what would become of my office patients."</p> + +<p>"They might die a little sooner or live a little longer, that is all," +said the Idiot. "If they weren't able to find the house at all, however, +I think it would be better for us, for much as I admire you, Doctor, I +think your office hours are a nuisance to the rest of us. I had to elbow +my way out of the house this morning between a double line of sufferers +from mumps and influenza, and other pleasingly afflicted patients of +yours, and I didn't like it very much."</p> + +<p>"I don't believe they liked it much either," returned the Doctor. "One +man with a sprained ankle told me about you. You shoved him in passing."</p> + +<p>"Well, you can apologize to him in my behalf," returned the Idiot; "but +you might add that he must expect very much the same treatment whenever +he and a boy with mumps stand between me and the door. Sprained ankles +aren't contagious, and I preferred shoving him to the other alternative."</p> + +<p>The Doctor was silent, and the Idiot rose to go. "Where will the house be +this evening about six-thirty, Mrs. Pedagog?" he asked, as he pushed his +chair back from the table.</p> + +<p>"Where? Why, here, of course," returned the landlady.</p> + +<p>"Why, yes—of course," observed the Idiot, with an impatient gesture. +"How foolish of me! I've really been so wrapped up in my canal-boat ideal +that I came to believe that it might possibly be real and not a dream, +after all. I almost believed that perhaps I should find that the house +had been towed somewhere up into Westchester County on my return, so that +we might all escape the city's tax on personal property, which I am told +is unusually high this year."</p> + +<p>With which sally the Idiot kissed his hand to Mr. Pedagog and retired +from the scene.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="II" id="II"></a>II</h2> + + +<p>"Let's write a book," suggested the Idiot, as he took his place at the +board and unfolded his napkin.</p> + +<p>"What about?" asked the Doctor, with a smile at the idea of the Idiot's +thinking of embarking on literary pursuits.</p> + +<p>"About four hundred pages long," said the Idiot. "I feel inspired."</p> + +<p>"You are inspired," said the School-Master. "In your way you are a +genius. I really never heard of such a variegated Idiot as you are in all +my experience, and that means a great deal, I can tell you, for in the +course of my career as an instructor of youth I have encountered many +idiots."</p> + +<p>"Were they idiots before or after having drank at the fount of your +learning?" asked the Idiot, placidly.</p> + +<p>Mr. Pedagog glared, and the Idiot was apparently satisfied. To make Mr. +Pedagog glare appeared to be one of the chiefest of his ambitions.</p> + +<p>"You will kindly remember, Mr. Idiot," said Mrs. Pedagog at this point, +"that Mr. Pedagog is my husband, and such insinuations at my table are +distinctly out of place."</p> + +<p>"I ask your pardon, Mrs. Pedagog," rejoined the offender, meekly. +"Nevertheless, as apart from the question in hand as to whether Mr. +Pedagog inspires idiocy or not, I should like to get the views of this +gathering on the point you make regarding the table. <i>Is</i> this your +table? Is it not rather the table of those who sit about it to regale +their inner man with the good things under which I remember once or twice +in my life to have heard it groan? To my mind, the latter is the truth. +It is <i>our</i> table, because we buy it, and I am forced to believe that +some of us pay for it. I am prepared to admit that if Mr. Brief, for +instance, is delinquent in his weekly payments, his interest in the table +reverts to you until he shall have liquidated, and he is not privileged +to say a word that you do not approve of; but I, for instance, who since +January 1st have been compelled to pay in advance, am at least sole +lessee, and for the time being proprietor of the portion for which I have +paid. You have sold it to me. I have entered into possession, and while +in possession, as a matter of right and not on sufferance, haven't I the +privilege of freedom of speech?"</p> + +<p>"You certainly exercise the privilege whether you have it or not," +snapped Mr. Pedagog.</p> + +<p>"Well, I believe in exercise," said the Idiot. "Exercise brings strength, +and if exercising the privilege is going to strengthen it, exercise it I +shall, if I have to hire a gymnasium for the purpose. But to return to +Mrs. Pedagog's remark. It brings up another question that has more or +less interested me. Because Mrs. Smithers married Mr. Pedagog, do we lose +all of our rights in Mr. Pedagog? Before the happy event that reduced our +number from ten to nine—"</p> + +<p>"We are still ten, are we not?" asked Mr. Whitechoker, counting the +guests.</p> + +<p>"Not if Mr. Pedagog and the late Mrs. Smithers have become one," said the +Idiot. "But, as I was saying, before the happy event that reduced our +number from ten to nine we were permitted to address our friend Pedagog +in any terms we saw fit, and whenever he became sufficiently interested +to indulge in repartee we were privileged to return it. Have we +relinquished that privilege? I don't remember to have done so."</p> + +<p>"It's a question worthy of your giant intellect," said Mr. Pedagog, +scornfully. "For myself, I do not at all object to anything you may +choose to say to me or of me. Your assaults are to me as water is to a +duck's back."</p> + +<p>"I am sorry," said the Idiot. "I hate family disagreements, and here we +have Mrs. Pedagog taking one side and Mr. Pedagog the other. But whatever +decision may ultimately be reached, of one thing Mrs. Pedagog must be +assured. I on principle side against Mr. Pedagog, and if it be the wish +of my good landlady that I shall refrain from playing intellectual +battledore and shuttlecock with her husband, whom we all revere, I +certainly shall refrain. Hereafter if I indulge in anything that in any +sense resembles repartee with our landlord, I wish it distinctly +understood that an apology goes with it."</p> + +<p>"That's all right, my boy," said the School-Master. "You mean well. You +are a little new, that's all, and we all understand you."</p> + +<p>"I don't understand him," growled the Doctor, still smarting under the +recollection of former breakfast-table discomfitures. "I wish we could +get him translated."</p> + +<p>"If you prescribed for me once or twice I think it likely I should be +translated in short order," retorted the Idiot. "I wonder how I'd go +translated into French?"</p> + +<p>"You couldn't be expressed in French," put in the Lawyer. "It would take +some barbarian tongue to do you justice."</p> + +<p>"Very well," said the Idiot. "Proceed. Do me justice."</p> + +<p>"I can't begin to," said Mr. Brief, angrily.</p> + +<p>"That's what I thought," said the Idiot. "That's the reason why you +always do me such great injustice. You lawyers always have to be doing +something, even if it is only holding down a chair so that it won't blow +out of your office window. If you haven't any justice to mete out, you +take another tack and dispense injustice with lavish hand. However, I'll +forgive you if you'll tell me one thing. What's libel, Mr. Brief?"</p> + +<p>"None of your business," growled the Lawyer.</p> + +<p>"A very good general definition," said the Idiot, approvingly. "If +there's any business in the world that I should hate to have known as +mine it is that of libel. I think, however, your definition is not +definite. What I wanted to know was just how far I could go with remarks +at this table and be safe from prosecution."</p> + +<p>"Nobody would ever prosecute you, for two reasons," said the lawyer. "In +a civil action for money damages a verdict against you for ten cents +wouldn't be worth a rap, because the chances are you couldn't pay. In a +criminal action your conviction would be a bad thing, because you would +be likely to prove a corrupting influence in any jail in creation. +Besides, you'd be safe before a jury, anyhow. You are just the sort of +idiot that the intelligent jurors of to-day admire, and they'd acquit you +of any crime. A man has a right to a trial at the hands of a jury of his +peers. I don't think even in a jury-box twelve idiots equal to yourself +could be found, so don't worry."</p> + +<p>"Thanks. Have a cigarette?" said the Idiot, tossing one over to the +Lawyer. "It's all I have. If I had a half-dollar I should pay you for +your opinion; but since I haven't, I offer you my all. The temperature of +my coffee seems to have fallen, Mrs. Pedagog. Will you kindly let me have +another cup?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly," said Mrs. Pedagog. "Mary, get the Idiot another cup."</p> + +<p>Mary did as she was told, placing the empty bit of china at Mrs. +Pedagog's side.</p> + +<p>"It is for the Idiot, Mary," said Mrs. Pedagog, coldly. "Take it to him."</p> + +<p>"Empty, ma'am?" asked the maid.</p> + +<p>"Certainly, Mary," said the Idiot, perceiving Mrs. Pedagog's point. "I +asked for another cup, not for more coffee."</p> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="gs001" id="gs001"></a> +<img src="images/gs001.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<h3>"CERTAINLY. I ASKED FOR ANOTHER CUP"</h3> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p>Mrs. Pedagog smiled quietly at her own joke. At hair-splitting she could +give the Idiot points.</p> + +<p>"I am surprised that Mary should have thought I wanted more coffee," +continued the Idiot, in an aggrieved tone. "It shows that she too thinks +me out of my mind."</p> + +<p>"You are not out of your mind," said the Bibliomaniac. "It would be a +good thing if you were. In replenishing your mental supply you might have +the luck to get better quality."</p> + +<p>"I probably should have the luck," said the Idiot. "I have had a great +store of it in my life. From the very start I have had luck. When I think +that I was born myself, and not you, I feel as if I had had more than my +share of good-fortune—more luck than the law allows. How much luck does +the law allow, Mr. Brief?"</p> + +<p>"Bosh!" said Mr. Brief, with a scornful wave of his hand, as if he +were ridding himself of a troublesome gnat. "Don't bother me with such +mind-withering questions."</p> + +<p>"All right," said the Idiot. "I'll ask you an easier one. Why does not +the world recognize matrimony?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Whitechoker started. Here, indeed, was a novel proposition.</p> + +<p>"I—I—must confess," said he, "that of all the idiotic questions +I—er—I have ever had the honor of hearing asked that takes the—"</p> + +<p>"Cake?" suggested the Idiot.</p> + +<p>"—palm!" said Mr. Whitechoker, severely.</p> + +<p>"Well, perhaps so," said the Idiot. "But matrimony is the science, or the +art, or whatever you call it, of making two people one, is it not?"</p> + +<p>"It certainly is," said Mr. Whitechoker. "But what of it?"</p> + +<p>"The world does not recognize the unity," said the Idiot. "Take our good +proprietors, for instance. They were made one by yourself, Mr. +Whitechoker. I had the pleasure of being an usher at the ceremony, +yielding the position of best man gracefully, as is my wont, to the +Bibliomaniac. He was best man, but not the better man, by a simple +process of reasoning. Now no one at this board disputes that Mr. and Mrs. +Pedagog are one, but how about the world? Mr. Pedagog takes Mrs. Pedagog +to a concert. Are they one there?"</p> + +<p>"Why not?" asked Mr. Brief.</p> + +<p>"That's what I want to know—why not? The world, as represented by the +ticket-taker at the door, says they are not—or implies that they are +not, by demanding tickets for two. They attempt to travel out to Niagara +Falls. The railroad people charge them two fares; the hackman charges +them two fares; the hotel bills are made out for two people. It is the +same wherever they go in the world, and I regret to say that even in our +own home there is a disposition to regard them as two. When I spoke of +there being nine persons here instead of ten, Mr. Whitechoker himself +disputed my point—and yet it was not so much his fault as the fault of +Mr. and Mrs. Pedagog themselves. Mrs. Pedagog seems to cast doubt upon +the unity by providing two separate chairs for the two halves that make +up the charming entirety. Two cups are provided for their coffee. Two +forks, two knives, two spoons, two portions of all the delicacies of the +season which are lavished upon us out of season—generally after it—fall +to their lot. They do not object to being called a happy <i>couple</i>, when +they should be known as a happy single. Now what I want to know is why +the world does not accept the shrinkage which has been pronounced valid +by the church and is recognized by the individual? Can any one here tell +me that?"</p> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="gs004" id="gs004"></a> +<img src="images/gs004.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<h3>"DEMANDS TICKETS FOR TWO"</h3> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p>No one could, apparently. At least no one endeavored to. The Idiot looked +inquiringly at all, and then, receiving no reply to his question, he rose +from the table.</p> + +<p>"I think," he said, as he started to leave the room—"I think we ought to +write that book. If we made it up of the things you people don't know, it +would be one of the greatest books of the century. At any rate, it would +be great enough in bulk to fill the biggest library in America."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="III" id="III"></a>III</h2> + + +<p>"I wish I were beginning life all over again," said the Idiot one spring +morning, as he took his accustomed place at Mrs. Pedagog's table.</p> + +<p>"I wish you were," said Mr. Pedagog from behind his newspaper. "Then your +parents would have you shut up in a nursery, and it is even conceivable +that you would be receiving those disciplinary attentions with a slipper +that you seem to me so frequently to deserve, were you at this present +moment in the nursery stage of your development."</p> + +<p>"My!" ejaculated the Idiot. "What a wonder you are, Mr. Pedagog! It is a +good thing you are not a justice in a criminal court."</p> + +<p>"And what, may I venture to ask," said Mr. Pedagog, glancing at the Idiot +over his spectacles—"what has given rise to that extraordinary remark, +the connection of which with anything that has been said or done this +morning is distinctly not apparent?"</p> + +<p>"I only meant that a man who was so given over to long sentences as you +are would probably make too severe a judge in a criminal court," replied +the Idiot, meekly. "Do you make use of the same phraseology in the +class-room that you dazzle us with, I should like to know?"</p> + +<p>"And why not, pray?" said Mr. Pedagog.</p> + +<p>"No special reason," said the Idiot; "only it does seem to me that an +instructor of youth ought to be more careful in his choice of adverbs +than you appear to be. Of course Doctor Bolus here is under no obligation +to speak more grammatically or correctly than he does. People call him in +to prescribe, not to indulge in rhetorical periods, and he can write his +prescriptions in a sort of intuitive Latin and nobody be the wiser, but +you, who are said to be sowing the seeds of knowledge in the brain of +youth, should be more careful."</p> + +<p>"Hear the grammarian talk!" returned Mr. Pedagog. "Listen to this +embryonic Samuel Johnson the Second. What have I said that so offends the +linguistic taste of Lindley Murray, Jun.?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing," returned the Idiot. "I cannot say that you have said anything. +I never heard you say anything in my life; but while you can no doubt +find good authority for making use of the words 'distinctly not +apparent,' you ought not to throw such phrases around carelessly. The +thing which is distinct is apparent, therefore to say 'distinctly not +apparent' to a mind that is not given to analysis sounds strange. You +might as well say of a beautiful girl that she is plainly pretty, meaning +of course that she is evidently pretty; but those who are unacquainted +with the idiomatic peculiarities of your speech might ask you if you +meant that she was pretty in a plain sort of way. Suppose, too, you were +writing a novel, and, in a desire to give your reader a fair idea of the +personal appearance of a homely but good creature, you should say, 'It +cannot be denied that Rosamond Follansbee was pretty plain?' It wouldn't +take a very grave error of the types to change your entire meaning. To +save a line on a page, for instance, it might become necessary to +eliminate a single word; and if that word should chance to be the word +'plain' in the sentence I have given, your homely but good person would +be set down as being undeniably pretty. Which shows, it seems to me, that +too great care cannot be exercised in the making of selections from our +vocabu—"</p> + +<p>"You are the worst I <i>ever</i> knew!" snapped Mr. Pedagog.</p> + +<p>"Which only proves," observed the Idiot, "that you have not heeded the +Scriptural injunction that you should know thyself. Are those buckwheat +cakes or doilies?"</p> + +<p>Whether the question was heard or not is not known. It certainly was not +answered, and silence reigned for a few minutes. Finally Mrs. Pedagog +spoke, and in the manner of one who was somewhat embarrassed. "I am in an +embarrassing position," said she.</p> + +<p>"Good!" said the Idiot, <i>sotto-voce</i>, to the genial gentleman who +occasionally imbibed. "There is hope for the landlady yet. If she can be +embarrassed she is still human—a condition I was beginning to think she +wotted not of."</p> + +<p>"She whatted what?" queried the genial gentleman, not quite catching the +Idiot's words.</p> + +<p>"Never mind," returned the Idiot. "Let's hear how she ever came to be +embarrassed."</p> + +<p>"I have had an application for my first-floor suite, and I don't know +whether I ought to accept it or not," said the landlady.</p> + +<p>"She has a conscience, too," whispered the Idiot; and then he added, +aloud, "And wherein lies the difficulty, Mrs. Pedagog?"</p> + +<p>"The applicant is an actor; Junius Brutus Davenport is his name."</p> + +<p>"A tragedian or a comedian?" asked the Bibliomaniac.</p> + +<p>"Or first walking gentleman, who knows every railroad tie in the +country?" put in the Idiot.</p> + +<p>"That I do not know," returned the landlady. "His name sounds familiar +enough, though. I thought perhaps some of you gentlemen might know of +him."</p> + +<p>"I have heard of Junius Brutus," observed the Doctor, chuckling slightly +at his own humor, "and I've heard of Davenport, but Junius Brutus +Davenport is a combination with which I am not familiar."</p> + +<p>"Well, I can't see why it should make any difference whether the man is a +tragedian, or a comedian, or a familiar figure to railroad men," said Mr. +Whitechoker, firmly. "In any event, he would be an extremely objec—"</p> + +<p>"It makes a great deal of difference," said the Idiot. "I've met +tragedians, and I've met comedians, and I've met New York Central stars, +and I can assure you they each represent a distinct type. The tragedians, +as a rule, are quiet meek individuals, with soft low voices, in private +life. They are more timid than otherwise, though essentially amiable. +I knew a tragedian once who, after killing seventeen Indians, a +road-agent, and a gross of cowboys between eight and ten <span class="smcap">P.M.</span> +every night for sixteen weeks, working six nights a week, was afraid of a +mild little soft-shell crab that lay defenceless on a plate before him on +the evening of the seventh night of the last week. Tragedians make +agreeable companions, I can tell you; and if J. Brutus Davenport is a +tragedian, I think Mrs. Pedagog would do well to let him have the suite, +provided, of course, that he pays for it in advance."</p> + +<p>"I was about to observe, when our friend interrupted me," said Mr. +Whitechoker, with dignity, "that in any event an actor at this board +would be to me an extremely objec—"</p> + +<p>"Now the comedians," resumed the Idiot, ignoring Mr. Whitechoker's +remark—"the comedians are very different. They are twice as bloodthirsty +as the murderers of the drama, and, worse than that, they are given to +rehearsing at all hours of the day and night. A tragedian is a hard +character only on the stage, but the comedian is the comedian always. +If we had one of those fellows in our midst, it would not be very long +before we became part of the drama ourselves. Mrs. Pedagog would find +herself embarrassed once an hour, instead of, as at present, once a +century. Mr. Whitechoker would hear of himself as having appeared by +proxy in a roaring farce before our comedian had been with us two months. +The wise sayings of our friend the School-Master would be spoken nightly +from the stage, to the immense delight of the gallery gods, and to the +edification of the orchestra circle, who would wonder how so much +information could have got into the world and they not know it before. +The out-of-town papers would literally teem with witty extracts from our +comedian's plays, which we should immediately recognize as the dicta of +my poor self."</p> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="gs005" id="gs005"></a> +<img src="images/gs005.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<h3>"THEY ARE GIVEN TO REHEARSING AT ALL HOURS"</h3> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p>"All of which," put in Mr. Whitechoker, "but proves the truth of my +assertion that such a person would be an extremely objec—"</p> + +<p>"Then, as I said before," continued the Idiot, "he is continually +rehearsing, and his objectionableness as a fellow-boarder would be +greater or less, according to his play. If he were impersonating a +shiftless wanderer, who shows remarkable bravery at a hotel fire, we +should have to be prepared at any time to hear the fire-engines rushing +up to the front door, and to see our comedian scaling the fire-escape +with Mrs. Pedagog and her account-books in his arms, simply in the line +of rehearsal. If he were impersonating a detective after a criminal +masquerading as a good citizen, the School-Master would be startled some +night by a hoarse voice at his key-hole exclaiming: 'Ha! ha! I have him +now. There is no escape save by the back window, and that's so covered +o'er with dust 'twere suffocation sure to try it.' I hesitate to say what +would happen if he were a tank comedian."</p> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="gs006" id="gs006"></a> +<img src="images/gs006.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<h3>"'HA! HA! I HAVE HIM NOW!'"</h3> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p>"Perhaps," said Mr. Whitechoker, with a trifle more impatience than was +compatible with his calling—"perhaps you will hesitate long enough for +me to state what I have been trying to state ever since this soliloquy +of yours began—that in any event, whether this person be a tragedian, or +a comedian, or a walking gentleman, or a riding gentleman in a circus, I +object to his being admitted to this circle, and I deem it well to say +right here that as he comes in at the front door I go out at the back. As +a clergyman, I do not approve of the stage."</p> + +<p>"That ought to settle it," said the Idiot. "Mr. Whitechoker is too good +a friend to us all here for us to compel him to go out of that back door +into the rather limited market-garden Mrs. Pedagog keeps in the yard. My +indirect plea for the admission of Mr. Junius Brutus Davenport was based +entirely upon my desire to see this circle completed or nearer completion +than it is at present. We have all the professions represented here but +the stage, and why exclude it, granting that no one objects? The men +whose lives are given over to the amusement of mankind, and who are +willing to place themselves in the most outrageous situations night after +night in order that we may for the time being seem to be lifted out of +the unpleasant situations into which we have got ourselves, are in my +opinion doing a noble work. The theatre enables us to woo forgetfulness +of self successfully for a few brief hours, and I have seen the time when +an hour or two of relief from actual cares has resulted in great good. +Nevertheless, the gentleman is not elected; and if Mrs. Pedagog will +kindly refill my cup, I will ask you to join me in draining a toast to +the health of the pastor of this flock, whose conscience, paradoxical as +it may seem, is the most frequently worn and yet the least thread-bare +of the consciences represented at this table."</p> + +<p>This easy settlement of her difficulty was so pleasing to Mrs. Pedagog +that the Idiot's request was graciously acceded to, and Mr. Whitechoker's +health was drank in coffee, after which the Idiot requested the genial +gentleman who occasionally imbibed to join him privately in eating +buckwheat cakes to the health of Mr. Davenport.</p> + +<p>"I haven't any doubt that he is worthy of the attention," he said; "and +if you will lend me the money to buy the tickets, I'll take you around +to the Criterion to-night, where he is playing. I don't know whether he +plays Hamlet or A Hole in the Roof; but, at any rate, we can have a good +time between the acts."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="IV" id="IV"></a>IV</h2> + + +<p>"I see the men are at work on the pavements this morning," said the +School-Master, gazing out through the window at a number of laborers at +work in the street.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the Idiot, calmly, "and I think Mrs. Pedagog ought to sue the +Department of Public Works for libel. If she hasn't a case no maligned +person ever had."</p> + +<p>"What are you saying, sir?" queried the landlady, innocently.</p> + +<p>"I say," returned the Idiot, pointing out into the street, "that you +ought to sue the Department of Public Works for libel. They've got their +sign right up against your house. <i>No Thorough Fare</i> is what it says. +That's libel, isn't it, Mr. Brief?"</p> + +<p>"It is certainly a fatal criticism of a boarding-house," observed Mr. +Brief, with a twinkle in his eye, "but Mrs. Pedagog could hardly secure +damages on that score."</p> + +<p>"I don't know about that," returned the Idiot. "As I understand it, it is +an old maxim of the law that the greater the truth the greater the libel. +Mrs. Pedagog ought to receive a million——By-the-way, what have we this +morning?"</p> + +<p>"We have steak and fried potatoes, sir," replied Mrs. Pedagog, frigidly. +"And I desire to add, that one who criticises the table as much as you do +would do well to get his meals outside."</p> + +<p>"That, Mrs. Pedagog, is not the point. The difficulty I find here lies in +getting my meals inside," said the Idiot.</p> + +<p>"Mary, you may bring in the mush," observed Mrs. Pedagog, pursing her +lips, as she always did when she wished to show that she was offended.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Mary," put in the School-Master; "let us have the mush as quickly +as possible—and may it not be quite such mushy mush as the remarks we +have just been favored with by our talented friend the Idiot."</p> + +<p>"You overwhelm me with your compliments, Mr. Pedagog," replied the Idiot, +cheerfully. "A flatterer like you should live in a flat."</p> + +<p>"Has your friend completed his article on old jokes yet?" queried the +Bibliomaniac, with a smile and some apparent irrelevance.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="gs007" id="gs007"></a> +<img src="images/gs007.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<h3>"HAS YOUR FRIEND COMPLETED HIS ARTICLE ON OLD JOKES?"</h3> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p>"Yes and no," said the Idiot. "He has completed his labors on it by +giving it up. He is a very thorough sort of a fellow, and he intended +to make the article comprehensive, but he found he couldn't, because, +judging from comments of men like you, for instance, he was forced to +conclude that there never was a <i>new</i> joke. But, as I was saying the +other morning——"</p> + +<p>"Do you really remember what you say?" sneered Mr. Pedagog. "You must +have a great memory for trifles."</p> + +<p>"Sir, I shall never forget you," said the Idiot. "But to revert to what +I was saying the other morning, I'd like to begin life all over again, so +that I could prepare myself for the profession of architecture. It's the +greatest profession in the world, and one which is surest to bring +immortality to its successful follower. A man may write a splendid book, +and become a great man for a while and within certain limits, but the +chances are that some other man will come along later and supplant him. +Then the book's sale will die out after a time, and with this will come +a diminution of its author's reputation, in extent anyway. An actor or a +great preacher becomes only a name after his death, but the architect who +builds a cathedral or a fine public building really erects a monument to +his own memory."</p> + +<p>"He does if he can build it so that it will stay up," said the +Bibliomaniac. "I think you, however, are better off as you are. If you +had a more extended reputation or a lasting name you would probably be +locked up in some retreat; or if you were not, posterity would want to +know why."</p> + +<p>"I am locked up in a retreat of Nature's making," said the Idiot, with a +sigh. "Nature has set around me certain limitations which, while they are +not material, might as well be so as far as my ability to soar above them +is concerned—and it's well she has. If it were otherwise, my life would +not be safe or bearable in this company. As it is, I am happy and not at +all afraid of the effects your jealousy of me might entail if I were any +better than the rest of you."</p> + +<p>"I like that," said Mr. Pedagog.</p> + +<p>"I thought you would," said the Idiot. "That's why I said it. I aim to +please, and for once seem to have hit the bull's-eye. Mary, kindly break +open this biscuit for me."</p> + +<p>"Have you ideas on the subject of architecture that you so desire to +become an architect?" queried Mr. Whitechoker, who was always full of +sympathy for aspiring natures.</p> + +<p>"A few," said the Idiot.</p> + +<p>Mr. Pedagog laughed outright.</p> + +<p>"Let's test his ideas," he said, in an amused way. "Take a cathedral, for +instance. Suppose, Mr. Idiot, a man should come to you and say: 'Idiot, +we have a fund of $800,000 in our hands, actual cash. We think of +building a cathedral, and we think of employing you to draw up our plans. +Give us some idea of what we should do.' Do you mean to tell me that you +could say anything reasonable or intelligent to that man?"</p> + +<p>"Well, that depends upon what you call reasonable and intelligent. I have +never been able to find out what you mean by those terms," the Idiot +answered, slowly. "But I could tell him something that I consider +reasonable and intelligent."</p> + +<p>"From your own point of view, then, as to reasonableness and +intelligence, what should you say to him?"</p> + +<p>"I'd make him out a plan providing for the investment of his $800,000 in +five-per-cent, gold bonds, which would bring him in an income of $40,000 +a year; after which I should call his attention to the fact that $40,000 +a year would enable him to take 10,000 poor children out of this +sweltering city into the country, to romp and drink fresh milk and eat +wholesome food for two weeks every summer from now until the end of time, +which would build up a human structure that might be of more benefit to +the world than any pile of bricks, marble, and wrought-iron I or any +other architect could conceive of," said the Idiot. "The structure would +stand up, too."</p> + +<p>"You call that architecture, do you?" said Mr. Pedagog.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the Idiot, "of the renaissance order. But that, of course, +you term idiocy—and maybe it is. I like to be that kind of an idiot. I +do not claim to be able to build a cathedral, however. I don't suppose +I could even build a boarding-house like this, but what I should like to +do in architecture would be to put up a $5000 dwelling-house for $5000. +That's a thing that has never been done, and I think I might be able to +do it. If I did, I'd patent the plan and make a fortune. Then I should +like to know enough about the science of planning a building to find out +whether my model hotel is practicable or not."</p> + +<p>"You have a model hotel in your mind, eh?" said the Bibliomaniac.</p> + +<p>"It must be a very small hotel if it's in his mind," said the Doctor.</p> + +<p>"That's tantamount to saying that it isn't anywhere," said Mr. Pedagog.</p> + +<p>"Well, it's a great hotel just the same," said the Idiot. "Although I +presume it would be expensive to build. It would have movable rooms, in +the first place. Each room would be constructed like an elevator, with +appliances at hand for moving it up and down. The great thing about this +would be that persons could have a room on any floor they wanted it, so +long as they got the room in the beginning. A second advantage would lie +in the fact, that if you were sleeping in a room next door to another in +which there was a crying baby, you could pull the rope and go up two or +three flights until you were free from the noise. Then in case of fire +the room in which the fire started could be lowered into a sliding tank +large enough to immerse the whole thing in, which I should have +constructed in the cellar. If the whole building were to catch fire, +there would be no loss of life, because all the rooms could be lowered +to the ground-floor, and the occupants could step right out upon solid +ground. Then again, if you were down on the ground-floor, and desired to +get an extended view of the surrounding country, it would be easy to +raise your room to the desired elevation. Why, there's no end to the +advantages to be gained from such an arrangement."</p> + +<p>"It's a fine idea," said Mr. Pedagog, "and one worthy of your mammoth +intellect. It couldn't possibly cost more than a million of dollars to +erect such a hotel, could it?"</p> + +<p>"No," said the Idiot. "And that is cheap alongside some of the hotels +they are putting up nowadays."</p> + +<p>"It could be built on less than four hundred acres of ground, too, +I presume?" said the Bibliomaniac, with a wink at the Doctor.</p> + +<p>"Certainly," said the Idiot, meekly.</p> + +<p>"And if anybody fell sick in one of the rooms," said the Doctor, "and +needed a change of air, you could have a tower over each, I suppose, so +that the room could be elevated high enough to secure the different +quality in the ether?"</p> + +<p>"Undoubtedly," said the Idiot. "Although that would add materially to the +expense. A scarlet-fever patient, however, in a hotel like that could +very easily be isolated from the rest of the house by the maintenance of +what might be called the hospital floor."</p> + +<p>"Superb!" said the Doctor. "I wonder you haven't spoken to some +architectural friend about it."</p> + +<p>"I have," said the Idiot. "You must remember that young fellow with a +black mustache I had here to dinner last Saturday night."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I remember him," said the Doctor. "Is he an architect?"</p> + +<p>"He is—and a good one. He can take a brown-stone dwelling and turn it +into a colonial mansion with a pot of yellow paint. He's a wonder. I +submitted the idea to him."</p> + +<p>"And what was his verdict?"</p> + +<p>"I don't like to say," said the Idiot, blushing a little.</p> + +<p>"Ha! ha!" laughed Mr. Pedagog. "I shouldn't think you would like to say. +I guess we know what he said."</p> + +<p>"I doubt it," said the Idiot; "but if you guess right, I'll tell you."</p> + +<p>"He said you had better go and live in a lunatic asylum," said Mr. +Pedagog, with a chuckle.</p> + +<p>"Not he," returned the Idiot, nibbling at his biscuit. "On the contrary. +He advised me to stop living in one. He said contact with the rest of you +was affecting my brain."</p> + +<p>This time Mr. Pedagog did not laugh, but mistaking his coffee-cup for a +piece of toast, bit a small section out of its rim; and in the midst of +Mrs. Pedagog's expostulation, which followed the School-Master's careless +error, the Idiot and the Genial Old Gentleman departed, with smiles on +their faces which were almost visible at the back of their respective +necks.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="gs008" id="gs008"></a> +<img src="images/gs008.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<h3>THEY DEPARTED</h3> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="V" id="V"></a>V</h2> + + +<p>"Hullo!" said the Idiot, as he began his breakfast. "This isn't Friday +morning, is it? I thought it was Tuesday."</p> + +<p>"So it is Tuesday," put in the School-Master.</p> + +<p>"Then this fish is a little extra treat, is it?" observed the Idiot, +turning with a smile to the landlady.</p> + +<p>"Fish? That isn't fish, sir," returned the good lady. "That is liver."</p> + +<p>"Oh, is it?" said the Idiot, apologetically. "Excuse me, my dear Mrs. +Pedagog. I thought from its resistance that it was fried sole. Have you +a hatchet handy?" he added, turning to the maid.</p> + +<p>"My piece is tender enough. I can't see what you want," said the +School-Master, coldly.</p> + +<p>"I'd like your piece," replied the Idiot, suavely. "That is, if it really +is tender enough."</p> + +<p>"Don't pay any attention to him, my dear," said the School-Master to the +landlady, whose ire was so very much aroused that she was about to make +known her sentiments on certain subjects.</p> + +<p>"No, Mrs. Pedagog," said the Idiot, "don't pay any attention to me, I +beg of you. Anything that could add to the jealousy of Mr. Pedagog would +redound to the discomfort of all of us. Besides, I really do not object +to the liver. I need not eat it. And as for staying my appetite, I always +stop on my way down-town after breakfast for a bite or two anyhow."</p> + +<p>There was silence for a moment.</p> + +<p>"I wonder why it is," began the Idiot, after tasting his coffee—"I +wonder why it is Friday is fish-day all over the world, anyhow? Do you +happen to be learned enough in piscatorial science to enlighten me on +that point, Doctor?"</p> + +<p>"No," returned the physician, gruffly. "I've never looked into the +matter."</p> + +<p>"I guess it's because Friday is an unlucky day," said the Idiot. "Just +think of all the unlucky things that may happen before and after eating +fish, as well as during the process. In the first place, before eating, +you go off and fish all day, and have no luck—don't catch a thing. You +fall in the water perhaps, and lose your watch, or your fish-hook +catches in your coat-tails, with the result that you come near casting +yourself instead of the fly into the brook or the pond, as the case may +be. Perhaps the hook doesn't stop with the coat-tails, but goes on in, +and catches you. That's awfully unlucky, especially when the hook is made +of unusually barby barbed wire.</p> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="gs009" id="gs009"></a> +<img src="images/gs009.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<h3>"YOU FISH ALL DAY, AND HAVE NO LUCK"</h3> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p>"Then, again, you may go fishing on somebody else's preserves, and get +arrested, and sent to jail overnight, and hauled up the next morning, and +have to pay ten dollars fine for poaching. Think of Mr. Pedagog being +fined ten dollars for poaching! Awfully unfortunate!"</p> + +<p>"Kindly leave me out of your calculations," returned Mr. Pedagog, with a +flush of indignation.</p> + +<p>"Certainly, if you wish it," said the Idiot. "We'll hand Mr. Brief over +to the police, and let <i>him</i> be fined for poaching on somebody else's +preserves—although that's sort of impossible, too, because Mrs. Pedagog +never lets us see preserves of any kind."</p> + +<p>"We had brandied peaches last Sunday night," said the landlady, +indignantly.</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, so we did," returned the Idiot. "That must have been what the +Bibliomaniac had taken," he added, turning to the genial gentleman who +occasionally imbibed. "You know, we thought he'd been—ah—he'd been +absorbing."</p> + +<p>"To what do you refer?" asked the Bibliomaniac, curtly.</p> + +<p>"To the brandied peaches," returned the Idiot. "Do not press me further, +please, because we like you, old fellow, and I don't believe anybody +noticed it but ourselves."</p> + +<p>"Noticed what? I want to know what you noticed and when you noticed it," +said the Bibliomaniac, savagely. "I don't want any nonsense, either. I +just want a plain statement of facts. What did you notice?"</p> + +<p>"Well, if you must have it," said the Idiot, slowly, "my friend who +imbibes and I were rather pained on Sunday night to observe that +you—that you had evidently taken something rather stronger than cold +water, tea, or Mr. Pedagog's opinions."</p> + +<p>"It's a libel, sir!—a gross libel!" retorted the Bibliomaniac. "How did +I show it? That's what I want to know. How—did—I—show—it? Speak up +quick, and loud too. How did I show it?"</p> + +<p>"Well, you went up-stairs after tea."</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir, I did."</p> + +<p>"And my friend who imbibes and I were left down in the front hall, and +while we were talking there you put your head over the banisters and +asked, 'Who's that down there?' Remember that?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir, I do. And you replied, 'Mr. Auburnose and myself.'"</p> + +<p>"Yes. And then you asked, 'Who are the other two?'"</p> + +<p>"Well, I did. What of it?"</p> + +<p>"Mr. Auburnose and I were there alone. That's what of it. Now I put a +charitable construction on the matter and say it was the peaches, when +you fly off the handle like one of Mrs. Pedagog's coffee-cups."</p> + +<p>"Sir!" roared the Bibliomaniac, jumping from his chair. "You are the +greatest idiot I know."</p> + +<p>"Sir!" returned the Idiot, "you flatter me."</p> + +<p>But the Bibliomaniac was not there to hear. He had rushed from the room, +and during the deep silence that ensued he could be heard throwing things +about in the chamber overhead, and in a very few moments the banging of +the front door and scurrying down the brown-stone steps showed that he +had gone out of doors to cool off.</p> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="gs010" id="gs010"></a> +<img src="images/gs010.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<h3>HE COULD BE HEARD THROWING THINGS ABOUT</h3> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p>"It is too bad," said the Idiot, after a while, "that he has such a +quick temper. It doesn't do a bit of good to get mad that way. He'll be +uncomfortable all day long, and over what? Just because I attempted to +say a good word for him, and announce the restoration of my confidence in +his temperance qualities, he cuts up a high-jinks that makes everybody +uncomfortable.</p> + +<p>"But to resume about this fish business," continued the Idiot. "Fish—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, fish be hanged!" said the Doctor, impatiently. "We've had enough of +fish."</p> + +<p>"Very well," returned the idiot; "as you wish. Hanging isn't the best +treatment for fish, but we'll let that go. I never cared for the finny +tribe myself, and if Mrs. Pedagog can be induced to do it, I for one am +in favor of keeping shad, shark, and shrimps out of the house +altogether."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="VI" id="VI"></a>VI</h2> + + +<p>The Idiot was unusually thoughtful—a fact which made the School-Master +and the Bibliomaniac unusually nervous. Their stock criticism of him was +that he was thoughtless; and yet when he so far forgot his natural +propensities as to meditate, they did not like it. It made them uneasy. +They had a haunting fear that he was conspiring with himself against +them, and no man, not even a callous school-master or a confirmed +bibliomaniac, enjoys feeling that he is the object of a conspiracy. The +thing to do, then, upon this occasion, seemed obviously to interrupt his +train of thought—to put obstructions upon his mental track, as it were, +and ditch the express, which they feared was getting up steam at that +moment to run them down.</p> + +<p>"You don't seem quite yourself this morning, sir," said the Bibliomaniac.</p> + +<p>"Don't I?" queried the Idiot. "And whom do I seem to be?"</p> + +<p>"I mean that you seem to have something on your mind that worries you," +said the Bibliomaniac.</p> + +<p>"No, I haven't anything on my mind," returned the Idiot. "I was thinking +about you and Mr. Pedagog—which implies a thought not likely to use up +much of my gray matter."</p> + +<p>"Do you think your head holds any gray matter?" put in the Doctor.</p> + +<p>"Rather verdant, I should say," said Mr. Pedagog.</p> + +<p>"Green, gray, or pink," said the Idiot, "choose your color. It does +not affect the fact that I was thinking about the Bibliomaniac and Mr. +Pedagog. I have a great scheme in hand, which only requires capital +and the assistance of those two gentlemen to launch it on the sea of +prosperity. If any of you gentlemen want to get rich and die in comfort +as the owner of your homes, now is your chance."</p> + +<p>"In what particular line of business is your scheme?" asked Mr. +Whitechoker. He had often felt that he would like to die in comfort, +and to own a little house, even if it had a large mortgage on it.</p> + +<p>"Journalism," said the Idiot. "There is a pile of money to be made out +of journalism, particularly if you happen to strike a new idea. Ideas +count."</p> + +<p>"How far up do your ideas count—up to five?" questioned Mr. Pedagog, +with a tinge of sarcasm in his tone.</p> + +<p>"I don't know about that," returned the Idiot. "The idea I have hold +of now, however, will count up into the millions if it can only be set +going, and before each one of those millions will stand a big capital S +with two black lines drawn vertically through it—in other words, my idea +holds dollars, but to get the crop you've got to sow the seed. Plant a +thousand dollars in my idea, and next year you'll reap two thousand. +Plant that, and next year you'll have four thousand, and so on. At that +rate millions come easy."</p> + +<p>"I'll give you a dollar for the idea," said the Bibliomaniac.</p> + +<p>"No, I don't want to sell. You'll do to help develop the scheme. You'll +make a first-rate tool, but you aren't the workman to manage the tool. I +will go as far as to say, however, that without you and Mr. Pedagog, or +your equivalents in the animal kingdom, the idea isn't worth the fabulous +sum you offer."</p> + +<p>"You have quite aroused my interest," said Mr. Whitechoker. "Do you +propose to start a new paper?"</p> + +<p>"You are a good guesser," replied the Idiot. "That is a part of the +scheme—but it isn't the idea. I propose to start a new paper in +accordance with the plan which the idea contains."</p> + +<p>"Is it to be a magazine, or a comic paper, or what?" asked the +Bibliomaniac.</p> + +<p>"Neither. It's a daily."</p> + +<p>"That's nonsense," said Mr. Pedagog, putting his spoon into the +condensed-milk can by mistake. "There isn't a single scheme in daily +journalism that hasn't been tried—except printing an evening paper in +the morning."</p> + +<p>"That's been tried," said the Idiot. "I know of an evening paper the +second edition of which is published at mid-day. That's an old dodge, and +there's money in it, too—money that will never be got out of it. But I +really have a grand scheme. So many of our dailies, you know, go in for +every horrid detail of daily events that people are beginning to tire of +them. They contain practically the same things day after day. So many +columns of murder, so many beautiful suicides, so much sport, a modicum +of general intelligence, plenty of fires, no end of embezzlements, +financial news, advertisements, and head-lines. Events, like history, +repeat themselves, until people have grown weary of them. They want +something new. For instance, if you read in your morning paper that +a man has shot another man, you know that the man who was shot was an +inoffensive person who never injured a soul, stood high in the community +in which he lived, and leaves a widow with four children. On the other +hand, you know without reading the account that the murderer shot his +victim in self-defence, and was apprehended by the detectives late last +night; that his counsel forbid him to talk to the reporters, and that it +is rumored that he comes of a good family living in New England.</p> + +<p>"If a breach of trust is committed, you know that the defaulter was the +last man of whom such an act would be suspected, and, except in the one +detail of its location and sect, that he was prominent in some church. +You can calculate to a cent how much has been stolen by a glance at the +amount of space devoted to the account of the crime. Loaf of bread, two +lines. Thousand dollars, ten lines. Hundred thousand dollars, +half-column. Million dollars, a full column. Five million dollars, +half the front page, wood-cut of the embezzler, and two editorials, one +leader and one paragraph.</p> + +<p>"And so with everything. We are creatures of habit. The expected always +happens, and newspapers are dull because the events they chronicle are +dull."</p> + +<p>"Granting the truth of this," put in the School-Master, "what do you +propose to do?"</p> + +<p>"Get up a newspaper that will devote its space to telling what hasn't +happened."</p> + +<p>"That's been done," said the Bibliomaniac.</p> + +<p>"To a much more limited extent than we think," returned the Idiot. "It +has never been done consistently and truthfully."</p> + +<p>"I fail to see how a newspaper can be made to prevaricate truthfully," +asserted Mr. Whitechoker. To tell the truth, he was greatly disappointed +with the idea, because he could not in the nature of things become one of +its beneficiaries.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="gs011" id="gs011"></a> +<img src="images/gs011.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<h3>"HE WAS NOT MURDERED"</h3> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p>"I haven't suggested prevarication," said the Idiot. "Put on your front +page, for instance, an item like this: 'George Bronson, colored, aged +twenty-nine, a resident of Thompson Street, was caught cheating at poker +last night. He was not murdered.' There you tell what has not happened. +There is a variety about it. It has the charm of the unexpected. Then you +might say: 'Curious incident on Wall Street yesterday. So-and-so, who +was caught on the bear side of the market with 10,000 shares of J. B. & +S. K. W., paid off all his obligations in full, and retired from business +with $1,000,000 clear.' Or we might say, 'Superintendent Smithers, of the +St. Goliath's Sunday-school, who is also cashier in the Forty-eighth +National Bank, has not absconded with $4,000,000.'"</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="gs012" id="gs012"></a> +<img src="images/gs012.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<h3>"SUPERINTENDENT SMITHERS HAS NOT ABSCONDED"</h3> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + +<p>"Oh, that's a rich idea," put in the School-Master. "You'd earn +$1,000,000 in libel suits the first year."</p> + +<p>"No, you wouldn't, either," said the Idiot. "You don't libel a man +when you say he hasn't murdered anybody. Quite the contrary, you call +attention to his conspicuous virtue. You are in reality commending those +who refrain from criminal practice, instead of delighting those who are +fond of departing from the paths of Christianity by giving them +notoriety."</p> + +<p>"But I fail to see in what respect Mr. Pedagog and I are essential to +your scheme," said the Bibliomaniac.</p> + +<p>"I must confess to some curiosity on my own part on that point," added +the School-Master.</p> + +<p>"Why, it's perfectly clear," returned the Idiot, with a conciliating +smile as he prepared to depart. "You both know so much that isn't so, +that I rather rely on you to fill up."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="VII" id="VII"></a>VII</h2> + + +<p>A new boarder had joined the circle about Mrs. Pedagog's breakfast-table. +He had what the Idiot called a three-ply name—which was Richard +Henderson Warren—and he was by profession a poet. Whether it was this +that made it necessary for him to board or not, the rewards of the muse +being rather slender, was known only to himself, and he showed no +disposition to enlighten his fellow-boarders on the subject. His success +as a poet Mrs. Pedagog found it hard to gauge; for while the postman left +almost daily numerous letters, the envelopes of which showed that they +came from the various periodicals of the day, it was never exactly clear +whether or not the missives contained remittances or rejected +manuscripts, though the fact that Mr. Warren was the only boarder in the +house who had requested to have a waste-basket added to the furniture of +his room seemed to indicate that they contained the latter. To this +request Mrs. Pedagog had gladly acceded, because she had a notion that +therein at some time or another would be found a clew to the new +boarder's past history—or possibly some evidence of such duplicity +as the good lady suspected he might be guilty of. She had read that Byron +was profligate, and that Poe was addicted to drink, and she was impressed +with the idea that poets generally were bad men, and she regarded the +waste-basket as a possible means of protecting herself against any such +idiosyncrasies of her new-found genius as would operate to her +disadvantage if not looked after in time.</p> + +<p>This waste-basket she made it her daily duty to empty, and in the privacy +of her own room. Half-finished "ballads, songs, and snatches" she perused +before consigning them to the flames or to the large jute bag in the +cellar, for which the ragman called two or three times a year. Once Mrs. +Pedagog's heart almost stopped beating when she found at the bottom of +the basket a printed slip beginning, "<i>The Editor regrets that the +enclosed lines are unavailable</i>," and closing with about thirteen +reasons, any one or all of which might have been the main cause of the +poet's disappointment. Had it not been for the kindly clause in the +printed slip that insinuated in graceful terms that this rejection did +not imply a lack of literary merit in the contribution itself, the good +lady, knowing well that there was even less money to be made from +rejected than from accepted poetry, would have been inclined to request +the poet to vacate the premises. The very next day, however, she was glad +she had not requested the resignation of the poet from the laureateship +of her house; for the same basket gave forth another printed slip from +another editor, begging the poet to accept the enclosed check, with +thanks for his contribution, and asking him to deposit it as soon as +practicable—which was pleasing enough, since it implied that the poet +was the possessor of a bank account.</p> + +<p>Now Mrs. Pedagog was consumed with curiosity to know for how large a sum +the check called—which desire was gratified a few days later, when the +inspired boarder paid his week's bill with three one-dollar bills and a +check, signed by a well-known publisher, for two dollars.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="gs013" id="gs013"></a> +<img src="images/gs013.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<h3>THE INSPIRED BOARDER PAID HIS BILL</h3> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + +<p>By the boarders themselves the poet was regarded with much interest. +The School-Master had read one or two of his effusions in the Fireside +Corner of the journal he received weekly from his home up in New +England—effusions which showed no little merit, as well as indicating +that Mr. Warren wrote for a literary syndicate; Mr. Whitechoker had known +of him as the young man who was to have written a Christmas carol for his +Sunday-school a year before, and who had finished and presented the +manuscript shortly after New-Year's day; while to the Idiot, Mr. Warren's +name was familiar as that of a frequent contributor to the funny papers +of the day.</p> + +<p>"I was very much amused by your poem in the last number of the +<i>Observer</i>, Mr. Warren," said the Idiot, as they sat down to breakfast +together.</p> + +<p>"Were you, indeed?" returned Mr. Warren. "I am sorry to hear that, for it +was intended to be a serious effort."</p> + +<p>"Of course it was, Mr. Warren, and so it appeared," said the +School-Master, with an indignant glance at the Idiot. "It was a very +dignified and stately bit of work, and I must congratulate you upon it."</p> + +<p>"I didn't mean to give offence," said the Idiot. "I've read so much of +yours that was purely humorous that I believe I'd laugh at a dirge if you +should write one; but I really thought your lines in the <i>Observer</i> were +a burlesque. You had the same thought that Rossetti expresses in 'The +Woodspurge':</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'The wind flapped loose, the wind was still,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shaken out dead from tree to hill;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I had walked on at the wind's will,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I sat now, for the wind was still.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>That's Rossetti, if you remember. Slightly suggestive of 'Blow Ye Winds +of the Morning! Blow! Blow! Blow!' but more or less pleasing."</p> + +<p>"I recall the poem you speak of," said Warren, with dignity; "but the +true poet, sir—and I hope I have some claim to be considered as +such—never so far forgets himself as to burlesque his masters."</p> + +<p>"Well, I don't know what to call it, then, when a poet takes the same +thought that has previously been used by his masters and makes a funny +poem—"</p> + +<p>"But," returned the Poet, warmly, "it was not a funny poem."</p> + +<p>"It made me laugh," retorted the Idiot, "and that is more than half the +professedly funny poems we get nowadays can do. Therefore I say it was a +funny poem, and I don't see how you can deny that it was a burlesque of +Rossetti."</p> + +<p>"Well, I do deny it <i>in toto</i>."</p> + +<p>"I don't know anything about denying it <i>in toto</i>," rejoined the Idiot, +"but I'd deny it in print if I were you. I know plenty of people who +think it was a burlesque, and I overheard one man say—he is a Rossetti +crank—that you ought to be ashamed of yourself for writing it."</p> + +<p>"There is no use of discussing the matter further," said the Poet. "I am +innocent of any such intent as you have ascribed to me, and if people say +I have burlesqued Rossetti they say what is not true."</p> + +<p>"Did you ever read that little poem of Swinburne's called 'The Boy at the +Gate'?" asked the Idiot, to change the subject.</p> + +<p>"I have no recollection of it," said the Poet, shortly.</p> + +<p>"The name sounds familiar," put in Mr. Whitechoker, anxious not to be +left out of a literary discussion.</p> + +<p>"I have read it, but I forget just how it goes," vouchsafed the +School-Master, forgetting for a moment the Robert Elsmere episode and its +lesson.</p> + +<p>"It goes something like this," said the Idiot:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Sombre and sere the slim sycamore sighs;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lushly the lithe leaves lie low o'er the land;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whistles the wind with its whisperings wise,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Grewsomely gloomy and garishly grand.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So doth the sycamore solemnly stand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wearily watching in wondering wait;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So it has stood for six centuries, and<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still it is waiting the boy at the gate."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"No; I never read the poem," said Mr. Whitechoker, "but I'd know it was +Swinburne in a minute. He has such a command of alliterative language."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the Poet, with an uneasy glance at the Idiot. "It is +Swinburnian; but what was the poem about?"</p> + +<p>"'The boy at the gate,'" said the Idiot. "The idea was that the sycamore +was standing there for centuries waiting for the boy who never turns up."</p> + +<p>"It really is a beautiful thought," put in Mr. Whitechoker. "It is, I +presume, an allegory to contrast faithful devotion and constancy with +unfaithfulness and fickleness. Such thoughts occur only to the wholly +gifted. It is only to the poetic temperament that the conception of such +a thought can come coupled with the ability to voice it in fitting terms. +There is a grandeur about the lines the Idiot has quoted that betrays the +master-mind."</p> + +<p>"Very true," said the School-Master, "and I take this opportunity to say +that I am most agreeably surprised in the Idiot. It is no small thing +even to be able to repeat a poet's lines so carefully, and with so great +lucidity, and so accurately, as I can testify that he has just done."</p> + +<p>"Don't be too pleased, Mr. Pedagog," said the Idiot, dryly. "I only +wanted to show Mr. Warren that you and Mr. Whitechoker, mines of +information though you are, have not as yet worked up a corner on +knowledge to the exclusion of the rest of us." And with these words the +Idiot left the table.</p> + +<p>"He is a queer fellow," said the School-Master. "He is full of pretence +and hollowness, but he is sometimes almost brilliant."</p> + +<p>"What you say is very true," said Mr. Whitechoker. "I think he has just +escaped being a smart man. I wish we could take him in hand, Mr. Pedagog, +and make him more of a fellow than he is."</p> + +<p>Later in the day the Poet met the Idiot on the stairs. "I say," he said, +"I've looked all through Swinburne, and I can't find that poem."</p> + +<p>"I know you can't," returned the Idiot, "because it isn't there. +Swinburne never wrote it. It was a little thing of my own. I was only +trying to get a rise out of Mr. Pedagog and his Reverence with it. You +have frequently appeared impressed by the undoubtedly impressive manner +of these two gentlemen. I wanted to show you what their opinions were +worth."</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="gs014" id="gs014"></a> +<img src="images/gs014.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<h3>"I KNOW YOU CAN'T, BECAUSE IT ISN'T THERE"</h3> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + +<p>"Thank you," returned the Poet, with a smile. "Don't you want to go +into partnership with me and write for the funny papers? It would be +a splendid thing for me—your ideas are so original."</p> + +<p>"And I can see fun in everything, too," said the Idiot, thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>"Yes," returned the Poet. "Even in my serious poems."</p> + +<p>Which remark made the Idiot blush a little, but he soon recovered his +composure and made a firm friend of the Poet.</p> + +<p>The first fruits of the partnership have not yet appeared, however.</p> + +<p>As for Messrs. Whitechoker and Pedagog, when they learned how they had +been deceived, they were so indignant that they did not speak to the +Idiot for a week.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="VIII" id="VIII"></a>VIII</h2> + + +<p>It was Sunday morning, and Mr. Whitechoker, as was his wont on the first +day of the week, appeared at the breakfast table severe as to his mien.</p> + +<p>"Working on Sunday weighs on his mind," the Idiot said to the +Bibliomaniac, "but I don't see why it should. The luxury of rest +that he allows himself the other six days of the week is surely an +atonement for the hours of labor he puts in on Sunday."</p> + +<p>But it was not this that on Sunday mornings weighed on the mind of the +Reverend Mr. Whitechoker. He appeared more serious of visage then because +he had begun to think of late that his fellow-boarders lived too much in +the present, and ignored almost totally that which might be expected to +come. He had been revolving in his mind for several weeks the question as +to whether it was or was not his Christian duty to attempt to influence +the lives of these men with whom the chances of life had brought him in +contact. He had finally settled it to his own satisfaction that it was +his duty so to do, and he had resolved, as far as lay in his power, to +direct the conversation at Sunday morning's breakfast into spiritual +rather than into temporal matters.</p> + +<p>So, as Mrs. Pedagog was pouring the coffee, Mr. Whitechoker began:</p> + +<p>"Do you gentlemen ever pause in your every-day labors and thought to let +your minds rest upon the future—the possibilities it has in store for +us, the consequences which—"</p> + +<p>"No mush, thank you," said the Idiot. Then turning to Mr. Whitechoker, he +added: "I can't answer for the other gentlemen at this board, but I can +assure you, Mr. Whitechoker, that I often do so. It was only last night, +sir, that my genial friend who imbibes and I were discussing the future +and its possibilities, and I venture to assert that there is no more +profitable food for reflection anywhere in the larders of the mind than +that."</p> + +<p>"Larders of the mind is excellent," said the School-Master, with a touch +of sarcasm in his voice. "Perhaps you would not mind opening the door to +your mental pantry, and letting us peep within at the stores you keep +there. I am sure that on the subject in hand your views cannot fail to be +original as well as edifying."</p> + +<p>"I am also sure," said Mr. Whitechoker, somewhat surprised to hear the +Idiot speak as he did, having sometimes ventured to doubt if that +flippant-minded young man ever reflected on the serious side of life—"I +am also sure that it is most gratifying to hear that you have done some +thinking on the subject."</p> + +<p>"I am glad you are gratified, Mr. Whitechoker," replied the Idiot, "but +I am far from taking undue credit to myself because I reflect upon the +future and its possibilities. I do not see how any man can fail to be +interested in the subject, particularly when he considers the great +strides science has made in the last twenty years."</p> + +<p>"I fail to see," said the School-Master, "what the strides of science +have to do with it."</p> + +<p>"You fail to see so often, Mr. Pedagog," returned the Idiot, "that I +would advise your eyes to make an assignment in favor of your pupils."</p> + +<p>"I must confess," put in Mr. Whitechoker, blandly, "that I too am +somewhat—er—somewhat—"</p> + +<p>"Somewhat up a tree as to science's connection with the future?" queried +the Idiot.</p> + +<p>"You have my meaning, but hardly the phraseology I should have chosen," +replied the minister.</p> + +<p>"My style is rather epigrammatic," said the Idiot, suavely. "I appreciate +the flattery implied by your noticing it. But science has everything to +do with it. It is science that is going to make the future great. It is +science that has annihilated distance, and the annihilation has just +begun. Twenty years ago it was hardly possible for a man standing on one +side of the street to make himself heard on the other, the acoustic +properties of the atmosphere not being what they should be. To-day +you can stand in the pulpit of your church, and by means of certain +scientific apparatus make yourself heard in Boston, New Orleans, or San +Francisco. Has this no bearing on the future? The time will come, Mr. +Whitechoker, when your missionaries will be able to sit in their +comfortable rectories, and ring up the heathen in foreign climes, and +convert them over the telephone, without running the slightest danger of +falling into the soup, which expression I use in its literal rather than +in its metaphorical sense."</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="gs015" id="gs015"></a> +<img src="images/gs015.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<h3>"YOU CAN MAKE YOURSELF HEARD IN SAN FRANCISCO"</h3> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + +<p>"But—" interrupted Mr. Whitechoker.</p> + +<p>"Now wait, please," said the Idiot. "If science can annihilate degrees of +distance, who shall say that before many days science may not annihilate +degrees of time? If San Francisco, thousands of miles distant, can be +brought within range of the ear, why cannot 1990 be brought before the +mind's eye? And if 1990 can be brought before the mind's eye, what is to +prevent the invention of a prophetograph which shall enable us to cast a +horoscope which shall reach all around eternity and half-way back, if not +further?"</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="gs016" id="gs016"></a> +<img src="images/gs016.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<h3>THE PROPHETOGRAPH</h3> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + +<p>"You do not understand me," said Mr. Whitechoker. "When I speak of the +future, I do not mean the temporal future."</p> + +<p>"I know exactly what you mean," said the Idiot. "I've dealt in futures, +and I am familiar with all kinds. It is you, sir, that do not understand +me. My claim is perfectly plausible, and in its results is bound to make +the world better. Do you suppose that any man who, by the aid of my +prophetograph, sees that on a certain date in the future he will be +hanged for murder is going to fail to provide himself with an alibi in +regard to that particular murder, and must we not admit that having +provided himself with that alibi he will of necessity avoid bloodshed, +and so avoid the gallows? That's reasonable. So in regard to all the +thousand and one other peccadilloes that go to make this life a sinful +one. Science, by a purely logical advance along the lines already mapped +out for itself, and in part already traversed, will enable men to avoid +the pitfalls and reap only the windfalls of life; we shall all see what +terrible consequences await on a single misstep, and we shall not make +the misstep. Can you still claim that science and the future have nothing +to do with each other?"</p> + +<p>"You are talking of matters purely temporal," said Mr. Whitechoker. "I +have reference to our spiritual future."</p> + +<p>"And the two," observed the Idiot, "are so closely allied that we cannot +separate them. The proverb about looking after the pennies and letting +the pounds take care of themselves applies here. I believe that if I take +care of my temporal future—which, by-the-way, does not exist—my +spiritual future will take care of itself; and if science places the +hereafter before us—and you admit that even now it is before us—all we +have to do is to take advantage of our opportunities, and mend our lives +accordingly."</p> + +<p>"But if science shows you what is to come," said the School-Master, "it +must show your fate with perfect accuracy, or it ceases to be science, in +which event your entertaining notions as to reform and so on are entirely +fallacious."</p> + +<p>"Not at all," said the Idiot. "We are approaching the time when science, +which is much more liberal than any other branch of knowledge, will +sacrifice even truth itself for the good of mankind."</p> + +<p>"You ought to start a paradox company," suggested the Doctor.</p> + +<p>"Either that or make himself the nucleus of an insane asylum," observed +the School-Master, viciously. "I never knew a man with such maniacal +views as those we have heard this morning."</p> + +<p>"There is a great deal, Mr. Pedagog, that you have never known," returned +the Idiot. "Stick by me, and you'll die with a mind richly stored."</p> + +<p>Whereat the School-Master left the table with such manifest impatience +that Mr. Whitechoker was sorry he had started the conversation.</p> + +<p>The genial gentleman who occasionally imbibed and the Idiot withdrew to +the latter's room, where the former observed:</p> + +<p>"What are you driving at, anyhow? Where did you get those crazy ideas?"</p> + +<p>"I ate a Welsh-rarebit last night, and dreamed 'em," returned the Idiot.</p> + +<p>"I thought as much," said his companion. "What deuced fine things dreams +are, anyhow!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="IX" id="IX"></a>IX</h2> + + +<p>Breakfast was very nearly over, and it was of such exceptionally good +quality that very few remarks had been made. Finally the ball was set +rolling by the Lawyer.</p> + +<p>"How many packs of cigarettes do you smoke a day?" he asked, as the Idiot +took one from his pocket and placed it at the side of his coffee-cup.</p> + +<p>"Never more than forty-six," said the Idiot. "Why? Do you think of +starting a cigarette stand?"</p> + +<p>"Not at all," said Mr. Brief. "I was only wondering what chance you had +to live to maturity, that's all. Your maturity period will be in about +eight hundred and sixty years from now, the way I calculate, and it +seemed to me that, judging from the number of cigarettes you smoke, you +were not likely to last through more than two or three of those years."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I expect to live longer than that," said the Idiot. "I think I'm +good for at least four years. Don't you, Doctor?"</p> + +<p>"I decline to have anything to say about your case," retorted the Doctor, +whose feeling towards the Idiot was not surpassingly affectionate.</p> + +<p>"In that event I shall probably live five years more," said the Idiot.</p> + +<p>The Doctor's lip curled, but he remained silent.</p> + +<p>"You'll live," put in Mr. Pedagog, with a chuckle. "The good die young."</p> + +<p>"How did you happen to keep alive all this time then, Mr. Pedagog?" asked +the Idiot.</p> + +<p>"I have always eschewed tobacco in every form, for one thing," said Mr. +Pedagog.</p> + +<p>"I am surprised," put in the Idiot. "That's really a bad habit, and I +marvel greatly that you should have done it."</p> + +<p>The School-Master frowned, and looked at the Idiot over the rims of his +glasses, as was his wont when he was intent upon getting explanations.</p> + +<p>"Done what?" he asked, severely.</p> + +<p>"Chewed tobacco," replied the Idiot. "You just said that one of the +things that has kept you lingering in this vale of tears was that you +have always chewed tobacco. I never did that, and I never shall do it, +because I deem it a detestable diversion."</p> + +<p>"I didn't say anything of the sort," retorted Mr. Pedagog, getting red in +the face. "I never said that I chewed tobacco in any form."</p> + +<p>"Oh, come!" said the Idiot, with well-feigned impatience, "what's the use +of talking that way? We all heard what you said, and I have no doubt that +it came as a shock to every member of this assemblage. It certainly was a +shock to me, because, with all my weaknesses and bad habits, I think +tobacco-chewing unutterably bad. The worst part of it is that you chew it +in every form. A man who chews chewing-tobacco only may some time throw +off the habit, but when one gets to be such a victim to it that he chews +up cigars and cigarettes and plugs of pipe tobacco, it seems to me he is +incurable. It is not only a bad habit then; it amounts to a vice."</p> + +<p>Mr. Pedagog was getting apoplectic. "You know well enough that I never +said the words you attribute to me," he said, sternly.</p> + +<p>"Really, Mr. Pedagog," returned the Idiot, with an irritating shake of +his head, as if he were confidentially hinting to the School-Master to +keep quiet—"really you pain me by these futile denials. Nobody forced +you into the confession. You made it entirely of your own volition. Now +I ask you, as a man and brother, what's the use of saying anything more +about it? We believe you to be a person of the strictest veracity, but +when you say a thing before a tableful of listeners one minute, and deny +it the next, we are forced to one of two conclusions, neither of which is +pleasing. We must conclude that either, repenting your confession, you +sacrifice the truth, or that the habit to which you have confessed has +entirely destroyed your perception of the moral question involved. Undue +use of tobacco has, I believe, driven men crazy. Opium-eating has +destroyed all regard for truth in one whose word had always been regarded +as good as a government bond. I presume the undue use of tobacco can +accomplish the same sad result. By-the-way, did you ever try opium?"</p> + +<p>"Opium is ruin," said the Doctor, Mr. Pedagog's indignation being so +great that he seemed to be unable to find the words he was evidently +desirous of hurling at the Idiot.</p> + +<p>"It is, indeed," said the Idiot. "I knew a man once who smoked one little +pipeful of it, and, while under its influence, sat down at his table and +wrote a story of the supernatural order that was so good that everybody +said he must have stolen it from Poe or some other master of the weird, +and now nobody will have anything to do with him. Tobacco, however, in +the sane use of it, is a good thing. I don't know of anything that is +more satisfying to the tired man than to lie back on a sofa, of an +evening, and puff clouds of smoke and rings into the air. One of the +finest dreams I ever had came from smoking. I had blown a great mountain +of smoke out into the room, and it seemed to become real, and I climbed +to its summit and saw the most beautiful country at my feet—a country in +which all men were happy, where there were no troubles of any kind, where +no whim was left ungratified, where jealousies were not, and where every +man who made more than enough to live on paid the surplus into the common +treasury for the use of those who hadn't made quite enough. It was a +national realization of the golden rule, and I maintain that if smoking +were bad nothing so good, even in the abstract form of an idea, could +come out of it."</p> + +<p>"That's a very nice thought," said the Poet. "I'd like to put that into +verse. The idea of a people dividing up their surplus of wealth among the +less successful strugglers is beautiful."</p> + +<p>"You can have it," said the Idiot, with a pleased smile. "I don't write +poetry of that kind myself unless I work hard, and I've found that when +the poet works hard he produces poems that read hard. You are welcome to +it. Another time I was dreaming over my cigar, after a day of the hardest +kind of trouble at the office. Everything had gone wrong with me, and I +was blue as indigo. I came home here, lit a cigar, and threw myself down +upon my bed and began to puff. I felt like a man in a deep pit, out of +which there was no way of getting. I closed my eyes for a second, and to +all intents and purposes I lay in that pit. And then what did tobacco do +for me? Why, it lifted me right out of my prison. I thought I was sitting +on a rock down in the depths. The stars twinkled tantalizingly above me. +They invited me to freedom, knowing that freedom was not attainable. Then +I blew a ring of smoke from my mouth, and it began to rise slowly at +first, and then, catching in a current of air, it flew upward more +rapidly, widening constantly, until it disappeared in the darkness above. +Then I had a thought. I filled my mouth as full of smoke as possible, and +blew forth the greatest ring you ever saw, and as it started to rise I +grasped it in my two hands. It struggled beneath my weight, lengthened +out into an elliptical link, and broke, and let me down with a dull thud. +Then I made two rings, grasping one with my left hand and the other with +my right—"</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="gs017" id="gs017"></a> +<img src="images/gs017.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<h3>"I GRASPED IT IN MY TWO HANDS"</h3> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + +<p>"And they lifted you out of the pit, I suppose?" sneered the +Bibliomaniac.</p> + +<p>"I do not say that they did," said the Idiot, calmly. "But I do know that +when I opened my eyes I wasn't in the pit any longer, but up-stairs in my +hall-bedroom."</p> + +<p>"How awfully mysterious!" said the Doctor, satirically.</p> + +<p>"Well, I don't approve of smoking," said Mr. Whitechoker. "I agree with +the London divine who says it is the pastime of perdition. It is not +prompted by natural instincts. It is only the habit of artificial +civilization. Dogs and horses and birds get along without it. Why +shouldn't man?"</p> + +<p>"Hear! hear!" cried Mr. Pedagog, clapping his hands approvingly.</p> + +<p>"Where? where?" put in the Idiot. "That's a great argument. Dog's don't +put up in boarding-houses. Is the boarding-house, therefore, the result +of a degraded, artificial civilization? I have seen educated horses that +didn't smoke, but I have never seen an educated horse, or an uneducated +one, for that matter, that had even had the chance to smoke, or the kind +of mouth that would enable him to do it in case he had the chance. I +have also observed that horses don't read books, that birds don't eat +mutton-chops, that dogs don't go to the opera, that donkeys don't play +the piano—at least, four-legged donkeys don't—so you might as well +argue that since horses, dogs, birds, and donkeys get along without +literature, music, mutton-chops, and piano-playing—"</p> + +<p>"You've covered music," put in the Lawyer, who liked to be precise.</p> + +<p>"True; but piano-playing isn't always music," returned the Idiot. +"You might as well argue because the beasts and the birds do without +these things man ought to. Fish don't smoke, neither do they join the +police-force, therefore man should neither smoke nor become a guardian +of the peace."</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="gs018" id="gs018"></a> +<img src="images/gs018.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<h3>"PIANO-PLAYING ISN'T ALWAYS MUSIC"</h3> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p>"Nevertheless it is a pastime of perdition," insisted Mr. Whitechoker.</p> + +<p>"No, it isn't," retorted the Idiot. "Smoking is the business of +perdition. It smokes because it has to."</p> + +<p>"There! there!" remonstrated Mr. Pedagog.</p> + +<p>"You mean hear! hear! I presume," said the Idiot.</p> + +<p>"I mean that you have said enough!" remarked Mr. Pedagog, sharply.</p> + +<p>"Very well," said the Idiot. "If I have convinced you all I am satisfied, +not to say gratified. But really, Mr. Pedagog," he added, rising to leave +the room, "if I were you I'd give up the practice of chewing—"</p> + +<p>"Hold on a minute, Mr. Idiot," said Mr. Whitechoker, interrupting. He was +desirous that Mr. Pedagog should not be further irritated. "Let me ask +you one question. Does your old father smoke?"</p> + +<p>"No," said the Idiot, leaning easily over the back of his chair—"no. +What of it?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing at all—except that perhaps if he could get along without it you +might," suggested the clergyman.</p> + +<p>"He couldn't get along without it if he knew what good tobacco was," said +the Idiot.</p> + +<p>"Then why don't you introduce him to it?" asked the Minister.</p> + +<p>"Because I do not wish to make him unhappy," returned the Idiot, softly. +"He thinks his seventy years have been the happiest years that any mortal +ever had, and if now in his seventy-first year he discovered that during +the whole period of his manhood he had been deprived through ignorance of +so great a blessing as a good cigar, he'd become like the rest of us, +living in anticipation of delights to come, and not finding approximate +bliss in living over the past. Trust me, my dear Mr. Whitechoker, to look +after him. He and my mother and my life are all I have."</p> + +<p>The Idiot left the room, and Mr. Pedagog put in a greater part of the +next half-hour in making personal statements to the remaining boarders to +the effect that the word he used was eschewed, and not the one attributed +to him by the Idiot.</p> + +<p>Strange to say, most of them were already aware of that fact.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="X" id="X"></a>X</h2> + + +<p>"The progress of invention in this country has been very remarkable," +said Mr. Pedagog, as he turned his attention from a scientific weekly he +had been reading to a towering pile of buckwheat cakes that Mary had just +brought in. "An Englishman has just discovered a means by which a ship in +distress at sea can write for help on the clouds."</p> + +<p>"Extraordinary!" said Mr. Whitechoker.</p> + +<p>"It might be more so," observed the Idiot, coaxing the platterful of +cakes out of the School-Master's reach by a dexterous movement of his +hand. "And it will be more so some day. The time is coming when the +moon itself will be used by some enterprising American to advertise his +soap business. I haven't any doubt that the next fifty years will develop +a stereopticon by means of which a picture of a certain brand of cigar +may be projected through space until it seems to be held between the +teeth of the man in the moon, with a printed legend below it stating +that this is <i>Tooforfivers Best, Rolled from Hand-made Tobacco, Warranted +not to Crock or Fade, and for sale by All Tobacconists at Eighteen for a +Dime</i>."</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="gs019" id="gs019"></a> +<img src="images/gs019.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<h3>"THE MOON ITSELF WILL BE USED"</h3> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + +<p>"You would call that an advance in invention, eh?" asked the +School-Master.</p> + +<p>"Why not?" queried the Idiot.</p> + +<p>"Do you consider the invention which would enable man to debase nature to +the level of an advertising medium an advance?"</p> + +<p>"I should not consider the use of the moon for the dissemination of good +news a debasement. If the cigars were good—and I have no doubt that some +one will yet invent a cheap cigar that is good—it would benefit the +human race to be acquainted with that fact. I think sometimes that the +advertisements in the newspapers and the periodicals of the day are of +more value to the public than the reading-matter, so-called, that stands +next to them. I don't see why you should sneer at advertising. I should +never have known you, for instance, Mr. Pedagog, had it not been for Mrs. +Pedagog's advertisement offering board and lodging to single gentlemen +for a consideration. Nor would you have met Mrs. Smithers, now your +estimable wife, yourself, had it not been for that advertisement. Why, +then, do you sneer at the ladder upon which you have in a sense climbed +to your present happiness? You are ungrateful."</p> + +<p>"How you do ramify!" said Mr. Pedagog. "I believe there is no subject in +the world which you cannot connect in some way or another with every +other subject in the world. A discussion of the merits of Shakespeare's +sonnets could be turned by your dexterous tongue in five minutes into a +quarrel over the comparative merits of cider and cod-liver oil as +beverages, with you, the chances are, the advocate of cod-liver oil as +a steady drink."</p> + +<p>"Well, I must say," said the Idiot, with a smile, "it has been my +experience that cod-liver oil is steadier than cider. The cod-liver +oils I have had the pleasure of absorbing have been evenly vile, while +the ciders that I have drank have been of a variety of goodness, badness, +and indifferentness which has brought me to the point where I never touch +it. But to return to inventions, since you desire to limit our discussion +to a single subject, I think it is about the most interesting field of +speculation imaginable."</p> + +<p>"There you are right," said Mr. Pedagog, approvingly. "There is +absolutely no limit to the possibilities involved. It is almost within +the range of possibilities that some man may yet invent a buckwheat cake +that will satisfy your abnormal craving for that delicacy, which the +present total output of this table seems unable to do."</p> + +<p>Here Mr. Pedagog turned to his wife, and added: "My dear, will you +request the cook hereafter to prepare individual cakes for us? The Idiot +has so far monopolized all that have as yet appeared."</p> + +<p>"It appears to me," said the Idiot at this point, "that <i>you</i> are the +ramifier, Mr. Pedagog. Nevertheless, ramify as much as you please. I can +follow you—at a safe distance, of course—in the discussion of anything, +from Edison to flapjacks. I think your suggestion regarding individual +cakes is a good one. We might all have separate griddles, upon which +Gladys, the cook, can prepare them, and on these griddles might be cast +in bold relief the crest of each member of this household, so that every +man's cake should, by an easy process in the making, come off the fire +indelibly engraved with the evidence of its destiny. Mr. Pedagog's iron, +for instance, might have upon it a school-book rampant, or a large head +in the same condition. Mr. Whitechoker's cake-mark might be a pulpit +rampant, based upon a vestryman dormant. The Doctor might have a lozengy +shield with a suitable tincture, while my genial friend who occasionally +imbibes could have a barry shield surmounted by a small effigy of +Gambrinus."</p> + +<p>"You appear to know something of heraldry," said the poet, with a look of +surprise.</p> + +<p>"I know something of everything," said the Idiot, complacently.</p> + +<p>"It's a pity you don't know everything about something," sneered the +Doctor.</p> + +<p>"I would suggest," said the School-Master, dryly, "that a little rampant +jackass would make a good crest for your cakes."</p> + +<p>"That's a very good idea," said the Idiot. "I do not know but that a +jackass rampant would be about as comprehensive of my virtues as anything +I might select. The jackass is a combination of all the best qualities. +He is determined. He minds his own business. He doesn't indulge in +flippant conversation. He is useful. Has no vices, never pretends to be +anything but a jackass, and most respectfully declines to be ridden by +Tom, Dick, and Harry. I accept the suggestion of Mr. Pedagog with thanks. +But we are still ramifying. Let us get back to inventions. Now I fully +believe that the time is coming when some inventive genius will devise a +method whereby intellect can be given to those who haven't any. I believe +that the time is coming when the secrets of the universe will be yielded +up to man by nature."</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="gs020" id="gs020"></a> +<img src="images/gs020.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<h3>"DECLINES TO BE RIDDEN"</h3> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p>"And then?" queried Mr. Brief.</p> + +<p>"Then some man will try to improve on the secrets of the universe. He +will try to invent an apparatus by means of which the rotation of the +world may be made faster or slower, according to his will. If he has but +one day, for instance, in which to do a stated piece of work, and he +needs two, he will put on some patent brake and slow the world up until +the distance travelled in one hour shall be reduced one-half, so that one +hour under the old system will be equivalent to two; or if he is +anticipating some joy, some diversion in the future, the same smart +person will find a way to increase the speed of the earth so that the +hours will be like minutes. Then he'll begin fooling with gravitation, +and he will discover a new-fashioned lodestone, which can be carried in +one's hat to counter-act the influence of the centre of gravity when one +falls out of a window or off a precipice, the result of which will be +that the person who falls off one of these high places will drop down +slowly, and not with the rapidity which at the present day is responsible +for the dreadful outcome of accidents of that sort. Then, finally—"</p> + +<p>"You pretend to be able to penetrate to the finality, do you?" asked the +Clergyman.</p> + +<p>"Why not? It is as easy to imagine the finality as it is to go half-way +there," returned the Idiot. "Finally he will tackle some elementary +principle of nature, and he'll blow the world to smithereens."</p> + +<p>There was silence at the table. This at least seemed to be a tenable +theory. That man should have the temerity to take liberties with +elementary principles was quite within reason, man being an animal of +rare conceit, and that the result would bring about destruction was not +at all at variance with probability.</p> + +<p>"I believe it's happened once or twice already," said the Idiot.</p> + +<p>"Do you really?" asked Mr. Pedagog, with a show of interest. "Upon what +do you base this belief?"</p> + +<p>"Well, take Africa," said the Idiot. "Take North America. What do we +find? We find in the sands of the Sahara a great statue, which we call +the Sphinx, and about which we know nothing, except that it is there and +that it keeps its mouth shut. We find marvellous creations in engineering +that to-day surpass anything that we can do. The Sphinx, when discovered, +was covered by sand. Now I believe that at one time there were people +much further advanced in science than ourselves, who made these wonderful +things, who knew how to do things that we don't even dream of doing, and +I believe that they, like this creature I have predicted, got fooling +with the centre of gravity, and that the world slipped its moorings for a +period of time, during which time it tumbled topsy-turvey into space, and +that banks and banks of sand and water and ice thrown out of position +simply swept on and over the whole surface of the globe continuously +until the earth got into the grip of the rest of the universe once more +and started along in a new orbit. We know that where we are high and dry +to-day the ocean must once have rolled. We know that where the world is +now all sunshine and flowers great glaciers stood. What caused all this +change? Nothing else, in my judgment, than the monkeying of man with the +forces of nature. The poles changed, and it wouldn't surprise me a bit +that, if the north pole were ever found and could be thawed out, we +should find embedded in that great sea of ice evidences of a former +civilization, just as in the Saharan waste evidences of the same thing +have been found. I know of a place out West that is literally strewn with +oyster-shells, and yet no man living has the slightest idea how they came +there. It may have been the Massachusetts Bay of a pre-historic time, for +all we know. It may have been an antediluvian Coney Island, for all the +world knows. Who shall say that this little upset of mine found here an +oyster-bed, shook all the oysters out of their bed into space, and left +their clothes high and dry in a locality which, but for those garments, +would seem never to have known the oyster in his prime? Off in +Westchester County, on the top of a high hill, lies a rock, and in the +uppermost portion of that rock is a so-called pot-hole, made by nothing +else than the dropping of water of a brook and the swirling of pebbles +therein. It is now beyond the reach of anything in the shape of water +save that which falls from the heavens. It is certain that this pot-hole +was never made by a boy with a watering-pot, by a hired man with a hose, +by a workman with a drill, or by any rain-storm that ever fell in +Westchester County. There must at some time or another have been a +stream there; and as streams do not flow uphill and bore pot-holes on +mountain-tops, there must have been a valley there. Some great cataclysm +took place. For that cataclysm nature must be held responsible mainly. +But what prompted nature to raise hob with Westchester County millions of +years ago, and to let it sleep like Rip Van Winkle ever since? Nature +isn't a freak. She is depicted as a woman, but in spite of that she is +not whimsical. She does not act upon impulses. There must have been some +cause for her behavior in turning valleys into hills, in transforming +huge cities into wastes of sand, and oyster-beds into shell quarries; and +it is my belief that man was the contributing cause. He tapped the earth +for natural gas; he bored in and he bored out, and he bored nature to +death, and then nature rose up and smote him and his cities and his +oyster-beds, and she'll do it again unless we go slow."</p> + +<p>"There is a great deal in what you say," said Mr. Whitechoker.</p> + +<p>"Very true," said Mrs. Pedagog. "But I wish he'd stop saying it. The last +three dozen cakes have got cold as ice while he was talking, and I can't +afford such reckless waste."</p> + +<p>"Nor we, Mrs. Pedagog," said the Idiot, with a pleasant smile; "for, as I +was saying to the Bibliomaniac this morning, your buckwheat cakes are, to +my mind, the very highest development of our modern civilization, and to +have even one of them wasted seems to me to be a crime against Nature +herself, for which a second, third, or fourth shaking up of this earth +would be an inadequate punishment."</p> + +<p>This remark so pleased Mrs. Pedagog that she ordered the cook to send up +a fresh lot of cakes; and the guests, after eating them, adjourned to +their various duties with light hearts, and digestions occupied with work +of great importance.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XI" id="XI"></a>XI</h2> + + +<p>"I wonder what would have happened if Columbus had not discovered +America?" said the Bibliomaniac, as the company prepared to partake of +the morning meal.</p> + +<p>"He would have gone home disappointed," said the Idiot, with a look of +surprise on his face, which seemed to indicate that in his opinion the +Bibliomaniac was very dull-witted not to have solved the problem for +himself. "He would have gone home disappointed, and we would now be +foreigners, like most other Americans. Mr. Pedagog would doubtless be +instructing the young scions of the aristocracy of Tipperary, Mr. +Whitechoker would be Archbishop of Canterbury, the Bibliomaniac would be +raising bulbs in Holland, and——"</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="gs021" id="gs021"></a> +<img src="images/gs021.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<h3>"THE BIBLIOMANIAC WOULD BE RAISING BULBS"</h3> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + +<p>"And you would be wandering about with the other wild men of Borneo at +the present time," put in the School-Master.</p> + +<p>"No," said the Idiot. "Not quite. I should be dividing my time up between +Holland, France, Switzerland, and Spain."</p> + +<p>"You are an international sort of Idiot, eh?" queried the Lawyer, with a +chuckle at his own wit.</p> + +<p>"Say rather a cosmopolitan Idiot," said the Idiot. "Among my ancestors +I number individuals of various nations, though I suppose that if we go +back far enough we were all in the same boat as far as that is concerned. +One of my great-great-grandfathers was a Scotchman, one of them was a +Dutchman, another was a Spaniard, a fourth was a Frenchman. What the +others were I don't know. It's a nuisance looking up one's ancestors, +I think. They increase so as you go back into the past. Every man +has had two grandfathers, four great-grandfathers, eight +great-great-grandfathers, sixteen great-great-great-grandfathers, +thirty-two fathers raised to the fourth power of great-grandness, and +so on, increasing in number as you go further back, until it is hardly +possible for any one to throw a brick into the pages of history without +hitting somebody who is more or less responsible for his existence. I +dare say there is a streak of Julius Cæsar in me, and I haven't a doubt +that if our friend Mr. Pedagog here were to take the trouble to +investigate, he would find that Cæsar and Cassius and Brutus could be +numbered among his early progenitors—and now that I think of it, +I must say that in my estimation he is an unusually amiable man, +considering how diverse the nature of these men were. Think of it for +a minute. Here a man unites in himself Cæsar and Cassius and Brutus, +two of whom killed the third, and then, having quarrelled together, +went out upon a battle-field and slaughtered themselves, after making +extemporaneous remarks, for which this miserable world gives Shakespeare +all the credit. It's worse than the case of a friend of mine, one of +whose grandfathers was French and the other German."</p> + +<p>"How did it affect him?" asked Mr. Whitechoker.</p> + +<p>"It made him distrust himself," said the Idiot, with a smile, "and for +that reason he never could get on in the world. When his Teutonic nature +suggested that he do something, his Gallic blood would rise up and spoil +everything, and <i>vice versa</i>. He was eternally quarrelling with himself. +He was a victim to internal disorder of the worst sort."</p> + +<p>"And what, pray, finally became of him?" asked the Clergyman.</p> + +<p>"He shot himself in a duel," returned the Idiot, with a wink at the +genial old gentleman who occasionally imbibed. "It was very sad."</p> + +<p>"I've known sadder things," said Mr. Pedagog, wearily. "Your elaborate +jokes, for instance. They are enough to make strong men weep."</p> + +<p>"You flatter me, Mr. Pedagog," said the Idiot. "I have never in all my +experience as a cracker of jests made a man laugh until he cried, but I +hope to some day. But, really, do you know I think Columbus is an +immensely overrated man. If you come down to it, what did he do? He went +out to sea in a ship and sailed for three months, and when he least +expected it ran slam-bang up against the Western Hemisphere. It was like +shooting at a barn door with a Gatling gun. He was bound to hit it sooner +or later."</p> + +<p>"You don't give him any credit for tenacity of purpose or good judgment, +then?" asked Mr. Brief.</p> + +<p>"Of course I do. Plenty of it. He stuck to his ship like a hero who +didn't know how to swim. His judgment was great. He had too much sense +to go back to Spain without any news of something, because he fully +understood that unless he had something to show for the trip, there would +have been a great laugh on Queen Isabella for selling her jewels to +provide for a ninety-day yacht cruise for him and a lot of common +sailors, which would never have done. So he kept on and on, and finally +some unknown lookout up in the bow discovered America. Then Columbus +went home and told everybody that if it hadn't been for his own eagle eye +emigration wouldn't have been invented, and world's fairs would have been +local institutions. Then they got up a parade in which the King and Queen +graciously took part, and Columbus became a great man. Meanwhile the +unknown lookout who did discover the land was knocking about the town and +thinking he was a very lucky fellow to get an extra glass of grog. It +wasn't anything more than the absolute justice of fate that caused the +new land to be named America and not Columbia. It really ought to have +been named after that fellow up in the bow."</p> + +<p>"But, my dear Idiot," put in the Bibliomaniac, "the scheme itself was +Columbus's own. He evolved the theory that the earth is round like a +ball."</p> + +<p>"To quote Mr. Pedagog—" began the Idiot.</p> + +<p>"You can't quote me in your own favor," snapped the School-Master.</p> + +<p>"Wait until I have finished," said the Idiot. "I was only going to quote +you by saying 'Tutt!' that's all; and so I repeat, in the words of Mr. +Pedagog, tutt, tutt! Evolved the theory? Why, man, how could he help +evolving the theory? There was the sun rising in the east every morning +and setting in the west every night. What else was there to believe? That +somebody put the sun out every night, and sneaked back east with it under +cover of darkness?"</p> + +<p>"But you forget that the wise men of the day laughed at his idea," said +Mr. Pedagog, surveying the Idiot after the fashion of a man who has dealt +an adversary a stinging blow.</p> + +<p>"That only proves what I have always said," replied the Idiot. "Wise men +can't find fun in anything but stern facts. Wise men always do laugh at +truth. Whenever I advance some new proposition, you sit up there next to +Mrs. Pedagog and indulge in tutt-tutterances of the most intolerant sort. +If you had been one of the wise men of Columbus's time there isn't any +doubt in my mind that when Columbus said the earth was round, you'd have +remarked tutt, tutt, in Spanish." There was silence for a minute, and +then the Idiot began again. "There's another point about this whole +business that makes me tired," he said. "It only goes to prove the +conceit of these Europeans. Here was a great continent inhabited by +countless people. A European comes over here and is said to be the +discoverer of America and is glorified. Statues of him are scattered +broad-cast all over the world. Pictures of him are printed in the +newspapers and magazines. A dozen different varieties of portraits of +him are printed on postage-stamps as big as circus posters—and all for +what? Because he discovered a land that millions of Indians had known +about for centuries. On the other hand, when Columbus goes back to Spain +several of the native Americans trust their precious lives to his old +tubs. One of these savages must have been the first American to discover +Europe. Where are the statues of the Indian who discovered Europe? Where +are the postage-stamps showing how he looked on the day when Europe first +struck his vision? Where is anybody spending a billion of dollars getting +up a world's fair in commemoration of Lo's discovery of Europe?"</p> + +<p>"He didn't know it was Europe," said the Bibliomaniac.</p> + +<p>"Columbus didn't know this was America," retorted the Idiot. "In fact, +Columbus didn't know anything. He didn't know any better than to write a +letter to Queen Isabella and mail it in a keg that never turned up. He +didn't even know how to steer his old boat into a real solid continent, +instead of getting ten days on the island. He was an awfully wise man. He +saw an island swarming with Indians, and said, 'Why, this must be India!' +And worst of all, if his pictures mean anything, he didn't even know +enough to choose his face and stick to it. Don't talk Columbus to me +unless you want to prove that luck is the greatest factor of success."</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="gs022" id="gs022"></a> +<img src="images/gs022.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<h3>"DIDN'T KNOW ENOUGH TO CHOOSE HIS OWN FACE"</h3> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + +<p>"Ill-luck is sometimes a factor of success," said Mr. Pedagog. "You are a +success as an Idiot, which appears to me to be extremely unfortunate."</p> + +<p>"I don't know about that," said the Idiot. "I adapt myself to my company, +and of course—"</p> + +<p>"Then you are a school-master among school-masters, a lawyer among +lawyers, and so forth?" queried the Bibliomaniac.</p> + +<p>"What are you when your company is made up of widely diverse characters?" +asked Mr. Brief before the Idiot had a chance to reply to the +Bibliomaniac's question.</p> + +<p>"I try to be a widely diverse character myself."</p> + +<p>"And, trying to sit on many stools, fall and become just an Idiot," said +Mr. Pedagog.</p> + +<p>"That's according to the way you look at it. I put my company to the test +in the crucible of my mind. I analyze the characters of all about me, and +whatever quality predominates in the precipitate, that I become. Thus in +the presence of my employer and his office-boy I become a mixture of +both—something of the employer, something of an office-boy. I run +errands for my employer, and boss the office-boy. With you gentlemen I +go through the same process. The Bibliomaniac, the School-Master, Mr. +Brief, and the rest of you have been cast into the crucible, and I have +tried to approximate the result."</p> + +<p>"And are an Idiot," said the School-Master.</p> + +<p>"It is your own name for me, gentlemen," returned the Idiot. "I presume +you have recognized your composite self, and have chosen the title +accordingly."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>"You were a little hard on me this morning, weren't you?" asked the +genial old gentleman who occasionally imbibed, that evening, when he and +the Idiot were discussing the morning's chat. "I didn't like to say +anything about it, but I don't think you ought to have thrown me into the +crucible with the rest."</p> + +<p>"I wish you had spoken," said the Idiot, warmly. "It would have given me +a chance to say that the grain of sense that once or twice a year leavens +the lump of my idiocy is directly due to the ingredient furnished by +yourself. Here's to you, old man. If you and I lived alone together, what +a wise man I should be!"</p> + +<p>And then the genial old gentleman went to the cupboard and got out a +bottle of port-wine that he had been preserving in cobwebs for ten years. +This he opened, and as he did so he said, "I've been keeping this for +years, my boy. It was dedicated in my youth to the thirst of the first +man who truly appreciated me. Take it all."</p> + +<p>"I'll divide with you," returned the Idiot, with a smile. "For really, +old fellow, I think you—ah—I think you appreciate yourself as much as +I do."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XII" id="XII"></a>XII</h2> + + +<p>"I wonder what it costs to run a flat?" said the Idiot, stirring his +coffee with the salt-spoon—a proceeding which seemed to indicate that he +was thinking of something else.</p> + +<p>"Don't you keep an expense account?" asked the Bibliomaniac, slyly.</p> + +<p>"Hee-hee!" laughed Mrs. Pedagog.</p> + +<p>"First-rate joke," said the Idiot, with a smile. "But really, now, +I should like to know for how little an apartment could be run. I am +interested."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Pedagog stopped laughing at once. The Idiot's words were ominous. +She did not always like his views, but she did like his money, and she +was not at all anxious to lose him as a boarder.</p> + +<p>"It's very expensive," she said, firmly. "I shouldn't ever advise any +one to undertake living in a flat. Rents are high. Butcher bills are +enormous, because the butchers have to pay commissions, not only to the +cook, so that she'll use twice as much lard as she can, and give away +three or four times as much to the poor as she ought, but janitors have +to be seen to, and elevator-boys, and all that. Groceries come high for +the same reason. Oh, no! Flat life isn't the life for anybody, I say. +Give me a good, first-class boarding-house. Am I not right, John?"</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="gs023" id="gs023"></a> +<img src="images/gs023.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<h3>"JANITORS HAVE TO BE SEEN TO"</h3> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + +<p>"Yes, indeed," said Mr. Pedagog. "Every time. I lived in a flat once, +and it was an awful nuisance. Above me lived a dancing-master who gave +lessons at every hour of the day in the room directly over my study, +so that I was always being disturbed at my work, while below me was a +music-teacher who was practising all night, so that I could hardly sleep. +Worst of all, on the same floor with me was a miserable person of +convivial tendencies, who always mistook my door for his when he came +home after midnight, and who gave some quite estimable people two +floors below to believe that it was I, and not he, who sang comic songs +between three and four o'clock in the morning. There has not been too +much love lost between the Idiot and myself, but I cannot be so +vindictive as to recommend him to live in a flat."</p> + +<p>"I can bear testimony to the same effect," put in Mr. Brief, who was two +weeks in arrears, and anxious to conciliate his landlady.</p> + +<p>"Testimony to the effect that Mr. Pedagog sang comic songs in the early +morning?" said the Idiot. "Nonsense! I don't believe it. I have lived in +this house for two years with Mr. Pedagog, and I've never heard him raise +his voice in song yet."</p> + +<p>"I didn't mean anything of the sort," retorted Mr. Brief. "You know I +didn't."</p> + +<p>"Don't apologize to me," said the Idiot. "Apologize to Mr. Pedagog. He is +the man you have wronged."</p> + +<p>"What did he say?" put in Mr. Pedagog, with a stern look at Mr. Brief. "I +didn't hear what he said."</p> + +<p>"I didn't say anything," said the lawyer, "except that I could bear +testimony to the effect that your experience with flat life was similar +to mine. This young person, with his customary nerve, tries to make it +appear that I said you sang comic songs in the early morning."</p> + +<p>"I try to do nothing of the sort," said the Idiot. "I simply expressed my +belief that in spite of what you said Mr. Pedagog was innocent, and I do +so because my experience with him has taught me that he is not the kind +of man who would do that sort of thing. He has neither time, voice, nor +inclination. He has an ear—two of them, in fact—and an impressionable +mind, but—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, tutt!" interrupted the School-Master. "When I need a defender, you +may spare yourself the trouble of flying to my rescue."</p> + +<p>"I know I <i>may</i>," said the Idiot, "but with me it's a question of can and +can't. I'm willing to attack you personally, but while I live no other +shall do so. Wherefore I tell Mr. Brief plainly, and to his face, that if +he says you ever sang a comic song he says what is not so. You might hum +one, but sing it—never!"</p> + +<p>"We were talking of flats, I believe," said Mr. Whitechoker.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the Idiot, "and these persons have changed it from flat talk +to sharp talk."</p> + +<p>"Well, anyhow," put in Mr. Brief, "I lived in a flat once, and it was +anything but pleasant. I lost a case once for the simple and only reason +that I lived in a flat. It was a case that required a great deal of +strategy on my part, and I invited my client to my home to unfold my plan +of action. I got interested in the scheme as I unfolded it, and spoke in +my usual impassioned manner, as though addressing a jury, and, would you +believe it, the opposing counsel happened to be visiting a friend on the +next floor, and my eloquence floated up through the air-shaft, and gave +our whole plan of action away. We were routed on the point we had +supposed would pierce the enemy's armor and lay him at our feet, for the +wholly simple reason that that abominable air-shaft had made my strategic +move a matter of public knowledge."</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="gs024" id="gs024"></a> +<img src="images/gs024.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<h3>"MY ELOQUENCE FLOATED UP THE AIR-SHAFT"</h3> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + +<p>"That's a good idea for a play," said the Idiot. "A roaring farce could +be built up on that basis. Villain and accomplice on one floor, innocent +victim on floor above. Plot floats up air-shaft. Innocent victim +overhears; villain and accomplice say 'ha ha' for three acts and take +a back seat in the fourth, with a grand transformation showing the +conspirators in the county jail as a finale. Write it up with lots of +live-stock wandering in and out, bring in janitors and elevator-boys +and butchers, show up some of the humors of flat life, if there be any +such, call it <i>A Hole in the Flat</i>, and put it on the stage. Nine hundred +nights is the very shortest run it could have, which at fifty dollars a +night for the author is $45,000 in good hard dollars. Mr. Poet, the idea +is yours for a fiver. Say the word."</p> + +<p>"Thanks," said the Poet, with a smile; "I'm not a dramatist."</p> + +<p>"Then I'll have to do it myself," said the Idiot. "And if I do, good-bye +Shakespeare."</p> + +<p>"That's so," said Mr. Pedagog. "Nothing could more effectually ruin the +dramatic art than to have you write a play. People, seeing your work, +would say, here, this will never do. The stage must be discouraged at all +costs. A hypocrite throws the ministry into disgrace, an ignoramus brings +shame upon education, and an unpopular lawyer gives the bar a bad name. I +think you are just the man to ruin Shakespeare."</p> + +<p>"Then I'll give up my ambition to become a playwright and stick to +idiocy," said the Idiot. "But to come back to flats. Your feeling in +regard to them is entirely different from that of a friend of mine, who +has lived in one for ten years. He thinks flat life is ideal. His +children can't fall down-stairs, because there aren't any stairs to fall +down. His roof never leaks, because he hasn't any roof to leak; and when +he and his family want to go off anywhere, all he has to do is to lock +his front door and go. Burglars never climb into his front window, +because they are all eight flights up. Damp cellars don't trouble him, +because they are too far down to do him any injury, even if they +overflow. The cares of house-keeping are reduced to a minimum. His cook +doesn't spend all her time in the front area flirting with the postman, +because there isn't any front area to his flat; and in a social way his +wife is most delightfully situated, because most of her friends live in +the same building, and instead of having to hire a carriage to go calling +in, all she has to do is to take the elevator and go from one floor to +another. If he pines for a change of scene, he is high enough up in the +air to get it by looking out of his windows, over the tops of other +buildings, into the green fields to the north, or looking westward into +the State of New Jersey. Instead of taking a drive through the Park, or +a walk, all he and his wife need to do is to take a telescope and follow +some little sylvan path with their eyes. Then, as for expense, he finds +that he saves money by means of a co-operative scheme. For instance, if +he wants shad for dinner, and he and his wife cannot eat a whole one, he +goes shares on the shad and its cost with his neighbors above and below."</p> + +<p>"Yes, and his neighbors above and below borrow tea and eggs and butter +and ice and other things whenever they run short, so that in that way he +loses all he saves," said Mr. Pedagog, resolved not to give in.</p> + +<p>"He does if he isn't smart," said the Idiot. "I thought of that myself, +and asked him about it, and he told me that he kept account of all that, +and always made it a point after some neighbor had borrowed two pounds +of butter from him to send in before the week was over and borrow three +pounds of butter from the neighbor. So far his books show that he is +sixteen pounds of butter, seven pounds of tea, one bottle of vanilla +extract, and a ton of ice ahead of the whole house. He is six eggs and +a box of matches behind in his egg and match account, but under the +circumstances I think he can afford it."</p> + +<p>"But," said Mrs. Pedagog, anxious to know the worst, "why—er—why are +you so interested?"</p> + +<p>"Well," said the Idiot, slowly, "I—er—I am contemplating a change, Mrs. +Pedagog—a change that would fill me—I say it sincerely, too—with +regret if—" The Idiot paused a minute, and his eye swept fondly about +the table. His voice was getting a little husky too, Mr. Whitechoker +noticed. "It would fill me with regret, I say, if it were not that +in taking up house-keeping I am—I am to have the assistance of a +better-half."</p> + +<p>"What??" cried the Bibliomaniac. "You? You are going to be—to be +married?"</p> + +<p>"Why not?" said the Idiot. "Imitation is the sincerest flattery. Mr. +Pedagog marries, and I am going to flatter him as sincerely as I can by +following in his footsteps."</p> + +<p>"May I—may we ask to whom?" asked Mrs. Pedagog, softly.</p> + +<p>"Certainly," said the Idiot. "To Mr. Barlow's daughter. Mr. Barlow is—or +was—my employer."</p> + +<p>"Was? Is he not now? Are you going out of business?" asked Mr. Pedagog.</p> + +<p>"No; but, you see, when I went to see Mr. Barlow in the matter, he told +me that he liked me very much, and he had no doubt I would make a good +husband for his daughter, but, after all, he added that I was nothing +but a confidential clerk on a small salary, and he thought his daughter +could do better."</p> + +<p>"She couldn't find a better fellow, Mr. Idiot," said Mrs. Pedagog, and +Mr. Pedagog rose to the occasion by nodding his entire acquiescence in +the statement.</p> + +<p>"Thank you very much," said the Idiot. "That was precisely what I told +Mr. Barlow, and I suggested a scheme to him by which his sole objection +could be got around."</p> + +<p>"You would start in business for yourself?" said Mr. Whitechoker.</p> + +<p>"In a sense, yes," said the Idiot. "Only the way I put it was that a good +confidential clerk would make a good partner for him, and he, after +thinking it over, thought I was right."</p> + +<p>"It certainly was a characteristically novel way out of the dilemma," +said Mr. Brief, with a smile.</p> + +<p>"I thought so myself, and so did he, so it was all arranged. On the 1st +of next month I enter the firm, and on the 15th I am—ah—to be married."</p> + +<p>The company warmly congratulated the Idiot upon his good-fortune, and he +shortly left the room, more overcome by their felicitations than he had +been by their arguments in the past.</p> + +<p>The few days left passed quickly by, and there came a breakfast at Mrs. +Pedagog's house that was a mixture of joy and sadness—joy for his +happiness, sadness that that table should know the Idiot no more.</p> + +<p>Among the wedding-gifts was a handsomely bound series of volumes, +including a cyclopædia, a dictionary, and a little tome of poems, the +first output of the Poet. These came together, with a card inscribed, +"From your Friends of the Breakfast Table," of whom the Idiot said, when +Mrs. Idiot asked for information:</p> + +<p>"They, my dear, next to yourself and my parents, are the dearest friends +I ever had. We must have them up to breakfast some morning."</p> + +<p>"Breakfast?" queried Mrs. Idiot.</p> + +<p>"Yes, my dear," he replied, simply. "I should be afraid to meet them at +any other meal. I am always at my best at breakfast, and they—well, they +never are."</p> + + +<p>THE END</p> + + + + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="BY_JOHN_KENDRICK_BANGS" id="BY_JOHN_KENDRICK_BANGS"></a>BY JOHN KENDRICK BANGS</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Bonaparte of Corsica</span>.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Mr. Bangs is probably the generator of more hearty, healthful, purely +good-humored laughs than any other half-dozen men of our country +to-day.—<i>Interior</i>, Chicago.</p></div> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Idiot</span>.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"The Idiot," continues to be as amusing and as triumphantly bright in the +volume called after his name as in "Coffee and Repartee."—<i>Evangelist</i>, +N. Y.</p></div> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Water Ghost</span>, and Others.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>The funny side of the ghost genre is brought out with originality, and, +considering the morbidity that surrounds the subject, it is a wholesome +thing to offer the public a series of tales letting in the sunlight of +laughter.—<i>Hartford Courant</i>.</p></div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Three Weeks in Politics</span>.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>The funny story is most graphically told, and he who can read this +narrative of a campaigner's trials without laughing must be a stoic +indeed.—<i>Philadelphia Bulletin</i>.</p></div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Coffee and Repartee</span>.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Is delightfully free from conventionality; is breezy, witty, and +possessed of an originality both genial and refreshing.—<i>Saturday +Evening Gazette</i>, Boston.</p></div> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE IDIOT***</p> +<p>******* This file should be named 18881-h.txt or 18881-h.zip *******</p> +<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br /> +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/8/8/8/18881">http://www.gutenberg.org/1/8/8/8/18881</a></p> +<p>Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed.</p> + +<p>Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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+almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: The Idiot + + +Author: John Kendrick Bangs + + + +Release Date: July 20, 2006 [eBook #18881] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE IDIOT*** + + +E-text prepared by Suzanne Shell, Mary Meehan, and the Project Gutenberg +Online Distributed Proofreading Team (https://www.pgdp.net/) + + + +Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this + file which includes the original illustrations. + See 18881-h.htm or 18881-h.zip: + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/8/8/8/18881/18881-h/18881-h.htm) + or + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/8/8/8/18881/18881-h.zip) + + + + + +THE IDIOT + +by + +JOHN KENDRICK BANGS + +Author of "Coffee and Repartee" "The Water Ghost, and Others" "Three +Weeks in Politics" Etc. + +Illustrated + + + + + + + +New York +Harper & Brothers Publishers +1895 +Copyright, 1895, by Harper & Brothers. +All rights reserved. + + + + +TO WILLIAM K. OTIS + + + + +ILLUSTRATIONS + + + "CERTAINLY. I ASKED FOR ANOTHER CUP" + + "THE NUISANCE OF HAVING TO PAY" + + "SHE COULD NOT POSSIBLY GET ABOARD AGAIN" + + "DEMANDS TICKETS FOR TWO" + + "THEY ARE GIVEN TO REHEARSING AT ALL HOURS" + + "'HA! HA! I HAVE HIM NOW!'" + + "HAS YOUR FRIEND COMPLETED HIS ARTICLE ON OLD JOKES?" + + THEY DEPARTED + + "YOU FISH ALL DAY, AND HAVE NO LUCK" + + HE COULD BE HEARD THROWING THINGS ABOUT + + "HE WAS NOT MURDERED" + + "SUPERINTENDENT SMITHERS HAS NOT ABSCONDED" + + THE INSPIRED BOARDER PAID HIS BILL + + "I KNOW YOU CAN'T, BECAUSE IT ISN'T THERE" + + "YOU CAN MAKE YOURSELF HEARD IN SAN FRANCISCO" + + THE PROPHETOGRAPH + + "I GRASPED IT IN MY TWO HANDS" + + "PIANO-PLAYING ISN'T ALWAYS MUSIC" + + "THE MOON ITSELF WILL BE USED" + + "DECLINES TO BE RIDDEN" + + "THE BIBLIOMANIAC WOULD BE RAISING BULBS" + + "DIDN'T KNOW ENOUGH TO CHOOSE HIS OWN FACE" + + "JANITORS HAVE TO BE SEEN TO" + + "MY ELOQUENCE FLOATED UP THE AIR-SHAFT" + + + + +THE IDIOT + + + + +I + + +For some weeks after the happy event which transformed the popular Mrs. +Smithers into the charming Mrs. John Pedagog all went well at that lady's +select home for single gentlemen. It was only proper that during the +honey-moon, at least, of the happy couple hostilities between the Idiot +and his fellow-boarders should cease. It was expecting too much of +mankind, however, to look for a continued armistice, and the morning +arrived when Nature once more reasserted herself, and trouble began. Just +what it was that prompted the remark no one knows, but it happened that +the Idiot did say that he thought that, after all, life on a canal-boat +had its advantages. Mr. Pedagog, who had come into the dining-room in a +slightly irritable frame of mind, induced perhaps by Mrs. Pedagog's +insistence that as he was now part proprietor of the house he should be +a little more prompt in making his contributions towards its maintenance, +chose to take the remark as implying a reflection upon the way things +were managed in the household. + +"Humph!" he said. "I had hoped that your habit of airing your idiotic +views had been put aside for once and for all." + +"Very absurd hope, my dear sir," observed the Idiot. "Views that are not +aired become musty. Why shouldn't I give them an atmospheric opportunity +once in a while?" + +"Because they are the sort of views to which suffocation is the most +appropriate end," snapped the School-Master. "Any man who asserts, as you +have asserted, that life on a canal-boat has its advantages, ought to go +further, and prove his sincerity by living on one." + +"I can't afford it," said the Idiot, meekly. "It isn't cheap by any +manner of means. In the first place, you can't live happily on a +canal-boat unless you can afford to keep horses. In fact, canal-boat life +is a combination of the most expensive luxuries, since it combines +yachting and driving with domesticity. Nevertheless, if you will put your +mind on it, you will find that with a canal-boat for your home you can do +a great many things that you can't do with a house." + +"I decline to put my mind on a canal-boat," said Mr. Pedagog, sharply, +passing his coffee back to Mrs. Pedagog for another lump of sugar, +thereby contributing to that good lady's discomfiture, since before their +marriage the mere fact that the coffee had been poured by her fair hand +had given it all the sweetness it needed; or at least that was what the +School-Master had said, and more than once at that. + +"You are under no obligation to do so," the Idiot returned. "Though if I +had a mind like yours I'd put it on a canal-boat and have it towed away +somewhere out of sight. These other gentlemen, however, I think, will +agree with me when I say that the mere fact that a canal-boat can be +moved about the country, and is in no sense a fixture anywhere, shows +that as a dwelling-place it is superior to a house. Take this house, for +instance. This neighborhood used to be the best in town. It is still far +from being the worst neighborhood in town, but it is, as it has been for +several years, deteriorating. The establishment of a Turkish bath on one +corner and a grocery-store on the other has taken away much of that air +of refinement which characterized it when the block was devoted to +residential purposes entirely. Now just suppose for a moment that this +street were a canal, and that this house were a canal-boat. The canal +could run down as much as it pleased, the neighborhood could deteriorate +eternally, but it could not affect the value of this house as the home of +refined people as long as it was possible to hitch up a team of horses to +the front stoop and tow it into a better locality. I'd like to wager +every man at this table that Mrs. Pedagog wouldn't take five minutes to +make up her mind to tow this house up to a spot near Central Park, if it +were a canal-boat and the streets were water instead of a mixture of +water, sand, and Belgian blocks." + +"No takers," said the Bibliomaniac. + +"Tutt-tutt-tutt," ejaculated Mr. Pedagog. + +[Illustration: "THE NUISANCE OF HAVING TO PAY"] + +"You seem to lose sight of another fact," said the Idiot, warming up to +his subject. "If man had had the sense in the beginning to adopt the +canal-boat system of life, and we were used to that sort of thing, it +would not be so hard upon us in summer-time, when we have to live in +hotels in order that we and our families may reap the benefits of a +period of country life. We could simply drive off to that section of the +country where we desired to be. Hotels would not be needed if a man could +take his house along with him into the fields, and one phase of life +which has more bad than good in it would be entirely obliterated. There +is nothing more disturbing to the serenity of a domestic man's mind than +the artificial manner of living that prevails in most summer hotels. The +nuisance of having to pay bills every Monday morning under the penalty of +losing one's luggage would be obviated, and all the comforts of home +would be directly within reach. The trouble incident upon getting the +trunks packed and the children ready for a long day's journey by rail, +and the fatigue arising from such a journey, would be reduced to a +minimum. The troubles attendant upon going into a far country, and +leaving one's house in the sole charge of a lot of servants for a month +or two every year, would be done away with entirely; and if at any time +it became necessary to discharge one of these servants, she could be put +off the boat in an instant, and then the boat could be pushed out into +the middle of the canal, so that the discharged domestic could not +possibly get aboard again and take her revenge by smashing your crockery +and fixtures. That is one of the worst features of living in a stationary +house. You are entirely at the mercy of vindictive servants. They know +precisely where you live, and you cannot escape them. They can come back +when there is no man around, and raise several varieties of Ned with your +wife and children. With a movable house, such as the canal-boat would be, +you could always go off and leave your family in perfect safety." + +[Illustration: "SHE COULD NOT POSSIBLY GET ABOARD AGAIN"] + +"How about safety in a storm?" asked the Bibliomaniac. + +"Safety in a storm?" echoed the Idiot. "That seems an absurd sort of a +question to one who knows anything about canal-boats. I, for one, never +heard of a canal-boat being seriously damaged in a storm as long as it +was anchored in the canal proper. It certainly isn't any more dangerous +to be in a canal-boat in a storm than it is to be in a house that +offers resistance to the winds, and is shaken from roof to cellar at +every blast. More houses have been blown from their foundations than +canal-boats sunk, provided ordinary care has been taken to protect +them." + +"And you think the canal-boat would be healthy?" asked the Doctor. "How +about dampness and all that?" + +"That is a professional question," returned the Idiot, "which I think you +could answer better than I. I don't see why a canal-boat shouldn't be +healthy, however. The dampness would not amount to very much. It would be +outside of one's dwelling, and not within it, as is the case with so many +houses. A canal-boat having no cellar could not have a damp one, and if +by some untoward circumstance it should spring a leak, the water could +be pumped out at once and the leak plugged up. However this might be, +I'll offer another wager to this board on that point, and that is that +more people die in houses than on canal-boats." + +"We'd rather give you our money right out," retorted the Doctor. + +"Thank you," said the Idiot. "But I don't need money. I don't like money. +Money is responsible for more extravagance than any other commodity in +existence. Besides, it and I are not intimate enough to get along very +well together, and when I have any I immediately do my level best to rid +myself of it. But to return to our canal-boat, I note a look of +disapproval in Mr. Whitechoker's eyes. He doesn't seem to think any +more of my scheme than do the rest of you--which I regret, since I +believe that he would be the gainer if land edifices were supplanted by +the canal system as proposed by myself. Take church on a rainy morning, +for instance. A great many people stay at home from church on rainy +mornings just because they do not want to venture out in the wet. Suppose +we all lived in canal-boats? Would not people be deprived of this flimsy +pretext for staying at home if their homes could be towed up to the +church door? Or, better yet, granting that the churches followed out the +same plan, and were themselves constructed like canal-boats, how easy it +would be for the sexton to drive the church around the town and collect +the absentees. In the same manner it would be glorious for men like +ourselves, who have to go to their daily toil. For a consideration, Mrs. +Pedagog could have us driven to our various places of business every +morning, returning for us in the evening. Think how fine it would be for +me, for instance, instead of having to come home every night in an +overcrowded elevated train or on a cable-car, to have the office-boy come +and announce, 'Mrs. Pedagog's Select Home for Gentlemen is at the door, +Mr. Idiot.' I could step right out of my office into my charming little +bedroom up in the bow, and the time usually expended on the cars could be +devoted to dressing for tea. Then we could stop in at the court-house for +our legal friend; and as for Doctor Capsule, wouldn't he revel in driving +this boarding-house about town on his daily rounds among his patients?" + +"What would become of my office hours?" asked the Doctor. "If this house +were whirling giddily all about the city from morning until night, I +don't know what would become of my office patients." + +"They might die a little sooner or live a little longer, that is all," +said the Idiot. "If they weren't able to find the house at all, however, +I think it would be better for us, for much as I admire you, Doctor, I +think your office hours are a nuisance to the rest of us. I had to elbow +my way out of the house this morning between a double line of sufferers +from mumps and influenza, and other pleasingly afflicted patients of +yours, and I didn't like it very much." + +"I don't believe they liked it much either," returned the Doctor. "One +man with a sprained ankle told me about you. You shoved him in passing." + +"Well, you can apologize to him in my behalf," returned the Idiot; "but +you might add that he must expect very much the same treatment whenever +he and a boy with mumps stand between me and the door. Sprained ankles +aren't contagious, and I preferred shoving him to the other alternative." + +The Doctor was silent, and the Idiot rose to go. "Where will the house be +this evening about six-thirty, Mrs. Pedagog?" he asked, as he pushed his +chair back from the table. + +"Where? Why, here, of course," returned the landlady. + +"Why, yes--of course," observed the Idiot, with an impatient gesture. +"How foolish of me! I've really been so wrapped up in my canal-boat ideal +that I came to believe that it might possibly be real and not a dream, +after all. I almost believed that perhaps I should find that the house +had been towed somewhere up into Westchester County on my return, so that +we might all escape the city's tax on personal property, which I am told +is unusually high this year." + +With which sally the Idiot kissed his hand to Mr. Pedagog and retired +from the scene. + + + + +II + + +"Let's write a book," suggested the Idiot, as he took his place at the +board and unfolded his napkin. + +"What about?" asked the Doctor, with a smile at the idea of the Idiot's +thinking of embarking on literary pursuits. + +"About four hundred pages long," said the Idiot. "I feel inspired." + +"You are inspired," said the School-Master. "In your way you are a +genius. I really never heard of such a variegated Idiot as you are in all +my experience, and that means a great deal, I can tell you, for in the +course of my career as an instructor of youth I have encountered many +idiots." + +"Were they idiots before or after having drank at the fount of your +learning?" asked the Idiot, placidly. + +Mr. Pedagog glared, and the Idiot was apparently satisfied. To make Mr. +Pedagog glare appeared to be one of the chiefest of his ambitions. + +"You will kindly remember, Mr. Idiot," said Mrs. Pedagog at this point, +"that Mr. Pedagog is my husband, and such insinuations at my table are +distinctly out of place." + +"I ask your pardon, Mrs. Pedagog," rejoined the offender, meekly. +"Nevertheless, as apart from the question in hand as to whether Mr. +Pedagog inspires idiocy or not, I should like to get the views of this +gathering on the point you make regarding the table. _Is_ this your +table? Is it not rather the table of those who sit about it to regale +their inner man with the good things under which I remember once or twice +in my life to have heard it groan? To my mind, the latter is the truth. +It is _our_ table, because we buy it, and I am forced to believe that +some of us pay for it. I am prepared to admit that if Mr. Brief, for +instance, is delinquent in his weekly payments, his interest in the table +reverts to you until he shall have liquidated, and he is not privileged +to say a word that you do not approve of; but I, for instance, who since +January 1st have been compelled to pay in advance, am at least sole +lessee, and for the time being proprietor of the portion for which I have +paid. You have sold it to me. I have entered into possession, and while +in possession, as a matter of right and not on sufferance, haven't I the +privilege of freedom of speech?" + +"You certainly exercise the privilege whether you have it or not," +snapped Mr. Pedagog. + +"Well, I believe in exercise," said the Idiot. "Exercise brings strength, +and if exercising the privilege is going to strengthen it, exercise it I +shall, if I have to hire a gymnasium for the purpose. But to return to +Mrs. Pedagog's remark. It brings up another question that has more or +less interested me. Because Mrs. Smithers married Mr. Pedagog, do we lose +all of our rights in Mr. Pedagog? Before the happy event that reduced our +number from ten to nine--" + +"We are still ten, are we not?" asked Mr. Whitechoker, counting the +guests. + +"Not if Mr. Pedagog and the late Mrs. Smithers have become one," said the +Idiot. "But, as I was saying, before the happy event that reduced our +number from ten to nine we were permitted to address our friend Pedagog +in any terms we saw fit, and whenever he became sufficiently interested +to indulge in repartee we were privileged to return it. Have we +relinquished that privilege? I don't remember to have done so." + +"It's a question worthy of your giant intellect," said Mr. Pedagog, +scornfully. "For myself, I do not at all object to anything you may +choose to say to me or of me. Your assaults are to me as water is to a +duck's back." + +"I am sorry," said the Idiot. "I hate family disagreements, and here we +have Mrs. Pedagog taking one side and Mr. Pedagog the other. But whatever +decision may ultimately be reached, of one thing Mrs. Pedagog must be +assured. I on principle side against Mr. Pedagog, and if it be the wish +of my good landlady that I shall refrain from playing intellectual +battledore and shuttlecock with her husband, whom we all revere, I +certainly shall refrain. Hereafter if I indulge in anything that in any +sense resembles repartee with our landlord, I wish it distinctly +understood that an apology goes with it." + +"That's all right, my boy," said the School-Master. "You mean well. You +are a little new, that's all, and we all understand you." + +"I don't understand him," growled the Doctor, still smarting under the +recollection of former breakfast-table discomfitures. "I wish we could +get him translated." + +"If you prescribed for me once or twice I think it likely I should be +translated in short order," retorted the Idiot. "I wonder how I'd go +translated into French?" + +"You couldn't be expressed in French," put in the Lawyer. "It would take +some barbarian tongue to do you justice." + +"Very well," said the Idiot. "Proceed. Do me justice." + +"I can't begin to," said Mr. Brief, angrily. + +"That's what I thought," said the Idiot. "That's the reason why you +always do me such great injustice. You lawyers always have to be doing +something, even if it is only holding down a chair so that it won't blow +out of your office window. If you haven't any justice to mete out, you +take another tack and dispense injustice with lavish hand. However, I'll +forgive you if you'll tell me one thing. What's libel, Mr. Brief?" + +"None of your business," growled the Lawyer. + +"A very good general definition," said the Idiot, approvingly. "If +there's any business in the world that I should hate to have known as +mine it is that of libel. I think, however, your definition is not +definite. What I wanted to know was just how far I could go with remarks +at this table and be safe from prosecution." + +"Nobody would ever prosecute you, for two reasons," said the lawyer. "In +a civil action for money damages a verdict against you for ten cents +wouldn't be worth a rap, because the chances are you couldn't pay. In a +criminal action your conviction would be a bad thing, because you would +be likely to prove a corrupting influence in any jail in creation. +Besides, you'd be safe before a jury, anyhow. You are just the sort of +idiot that the intelligent jurors of to-day admire, and they'd acquit you +of any crime. A man has a right to a trial at the hands of a jury of his +peers. I don't think even in a jury-box twelve idiots equal to yourself +could be found, so don't worry." + +"Thanks. Have a cigarette?" said the Idiot, tossing one over to the +Lawyer. "It's all I have. If I had a half-dollar I should pay you for +your opinion; but since I haven't, I offer you my all. The temperature of +my coffee seems to have fallen, Mrs. Pedagog. Will you kindly let me have +another cup?" + +"Certainly," said Mrs. Pedagog. "Mary, get the Idiot another cup." + +Mary did as she was told, placing the empty bit of china at Mrs. +Pedagog's side. + +"It is for the Idiot, Mary," said Mrs. Pedagog, coldly. "Take it to him." + +"Empty, ma'am?" asked the maid. + +"Certainly, Mary," said the Idiot, perceiving Mrs. Pedagog's point. "I +asked for another cup, not for more coffee." + +[Illustration: "CERTAINLY. I ASKED FOR ANOTHER CUP"] + +Mrs. Pedagog smiled quietly at her own joke. At hair-splitting she could +give the Idiot points. + +"I am surprised that Mary should have thought I wanted more coffee," +continued the Idiot, in an aggrieved tone. "It shows that she too thinks +me out of my mind." + +"You are not out of your mind," said the Bibliomaniac. "It would be a +good thing if you were. In replenishing your mental supply you might have +the luck to get better quality." + +"I probably should have the luck," said the Idiot. "I have had a great +store of it in my life. From the very start I have had luck. When I think +that I was born myself, and not you, I feel as if I had had more than my +share of good-fortune--more luck than the law allows. How much luck does +the law allow, Mr. Brief?" + +"Bosh!" said Mr. Brief, with a scornful wave of his hand, as if he +were ridding himself of a troublesome gnat. "Don't bother me with such +mind-withering questions." + +"All right," said the Idiot. "I'll ask you an easier one. Why does not +the world recognize matrimony?" + +Mr. Whitechoker started. Here, indeed, was a novel proposition. + +"I--I--must confess," said he, "that of all the idiotic questions +I--er--I have ever had the honor of hearing asked that takes the--" + +"Cake?" suggested the Idiot. + +"--palm!" said Mr. Whitechoker, severely. + +"Well, perhaps so," said the Idiot. "But matrimony is the science, or the +art, or whatever you call it, of making two people one, is it not?" + +"It certainly is," said Mr. Whitechoker. "But what of it?" + +"The world does not recognize the unity," said the Idiot. "Take our good +proprietors, for instance. They were made one by yourself, Mr. +Whitechoker. I had the pleasure of being an usher at the ceremony, +yielding the position of best man gracefully, as is my wont, to the +Bibliomaniac. He was best man, but not the better man, by a simple +process of reasoning. Now no one at this board disputes that Mr. and Mrs. +Pedagog are one, but how about the world? Mr. Pedagog takes Mrs. Pedagog +to a concert. Are they one there?" + +"Why not?" asked Mr. Brief. + +"That's what I want to know--why not? The world, as represented by the +ticket-taker at the door, says they are not--or implies that they are +not, by demanding tickets for two. They attempt to travel out to Niagara +Falls. The railroad people charge them two fares; the hackman charges +them two fares; the hotel bills are made out for two people. It is the +same wherever they go in the world, and I regret to say that even in our +own home there is a disposition to regard them as two. When I spoke of +there being nine persons here instead of ten, Mr. Whitechoker himself +disputed my point--and yet it was not so much his fault as the fault of +Mr. and Mrs. Pedagog themselves. Mrs. Pedagog seems to cast doubt upon +the unity by providing two separate chairs for the two halves that make +up the charming entirety. Two cups are provided for their coffee. Two +forks, two knives, two spoons, two portions of all the delicacies of the +season which are lavished upon us out of season--generally after it--fall +to their lot. They do not object to being called a happy _couple_, when +they should be known as a happy single. Now what I want to know is why +the world does not accept the shrinkage which has been pronounced valid +by the church and is recognized by the individual? Can any one here tell +me that?" + +[Illustration: "DEMANDS TICKETS FOR TWO"] + +No one could, apparently. At least no one endeavored to. The Idiot looked +inquiringly at all, and then, receiving no reply to his question, he rose +from the table. + +"I think," he said, as he started to leave the room--"I think we ought to +write that book. If we made it up of the things you people don't know, it +would be one of the greatest books of the century. At any rate, it would +be great enough in bulk to fill the biggest library in America." + + + + +III + + +"I wish I were beginning life all over again," said the Idiot one spring +morning, as he took his accustomed place at Mrs. Pedagog's table. + +"I wish you were," said Mr. Pedagog from behind his newspaper. "Then your +parents would have you shut up in a nursery, and it is even conceivable +that you would be receiving those disciplinary attentions with a slipper +that you seem to me so frequently to deserve, were you at this present +moment in the nursery stage of your development." + +"My!" ejaculated the Idiot. "What a wonder you are, Mr. Pedagog! It is a +good thing you are not a justice in a criminal court." + +"And what, may I venture to ask," said Mr. Pedagog, glancing at the Idiot +over his spectacles--"what has given rise to that extraordinary remark, +the connection of which with anything that has been said or done this +morning is distinctly not apparent?" + +"I only meant that a man who was so given over to long sentences as you +are would probably make too severe a judge in a criminal court," replied +the Idiot, meekly. "Do you make use of the same phraseology in the +class-room that you dazzle us with, I should like to know?" + +"And why not, pray?" said Mr. Pedagog. + +"No special reason," said the Idiot; "only it does seem to me that an +instructor of youth ought to be more careful in his choice of adverbs +than you appear to be. Of course Doctor Bolus here is under no obligation +to speak more grammatically or correctly than he does. People call him in +to prescribe, not to indulge in rhetorical periods, and he can write his +prescriptions in a sort of intuitive Latin and nobody be the wiser, but +you, who are said to be sowing the seeds of knowledge in the brain of +youth, should be more careful." + +"Hear the grammarian talk!" returned Mr. Pedagog. "Listen to this +embryonic Samuel Johnson the Second. What have I said that so offends the +linguistic taste of Lindley Murray, Jun.?" + +"Nothing," returned the Idiot. "I cannot say that you have said anything. +I never heard you say anything in my life; but while you can no doubt +find good authority for making use of the words 'distinctly not +apparent,' you ought not to throw such phrases around carelessly. The +thing which is distinct is apparent, therefore to say 'distinctly not +apparent' to a mind that is not given to analysis sounds strange. You +might as well say of a beautiful girl that she is plainly pretty, meaning +of course that she is evidently pretty; but those who are unacquainted +with the idiomatic peculiarities of your speech might ask you if you +meant that she was pretty in a plain sort of way. Suppose, too, you were +writing a novel, and, in a desire to give your reader a fair idea of the +personal appearance of a homely but good creature, you should say, 'It +cannot be denied that Rosamond Follansbee was pretty plain?' It wouldn't +take a very grave error of the types to change your entire meaning. To +save a line on a page, for instance, it might become necessary to +eliminate a single word; and if that word should chance to be the word +'plain' in the sentence I have given, your homely but good person would +be set down as being undeniably pretty. Which shows, it seems to me, that +too great care cannot be exercised in the making of selections from our +vocabu--" + +"You are the worst I _ever_ knew!" snapped Mr. Pedagog. + +"Which only proves," observed the Idiot, "that you have not heeded the +Scriptural injunction that you should know thyself. Are those buckwheat +cakes or doilies?" + +Whether the question was heard or not is not known. It certainly was not +answered, and silence reigned for a few minutes. Finally Mrs. Pedagog +spoke, and in the manner of one who was somewhat embarrassed. "I am in an +embarrassing position," said she. + +"Good!" said the Idiot, _sotto-voce_, to the genial gentleman who +occasionally imbibed. "There is hope for the landlady yet. If she can be +embarrassed she is still human--a condition I was beginning to think she +wotted not of." + +"She whatted what?" queried the genial gentleman, not quite catching the +Idiot's words. + +"Never mind," returned the Idiot. "Let's hear how she ever came to be +embarrassed." + +"I have had an application for my first-floor suite, and I don't know +whether I ought to accept it or not," said the landlady. + +"She has a conscience, too," whispered the Idiot; and then he added, +aloud, "And wherein lies the difficulty, Mrs. Pedagog?" + +"The applicant is an actor; Junius Brutus Davenport is his name." + +"A tragedian or a comedian?" asked the Bibliomaniac. + +"Or first walking gentleman, who knows every railroad tie in the +country?" put in the Idiot. + +"That I do not know," returned the landlady. "His name sounds familiar +enough, though. I thought perhaps some of you gentlemen might know of +him." + +"I have heard of Junius Brutus," observed the Doctor, chuckling slightly +at his own humor, "and I've heard of Davenport, but Junius Brutus +Davenport is a combination with which I am not familiar." + +"Well, I can't see why it should make any difference whether the man is a +tragedian, or a comedian, or a familiar figure to railroad men," said Mr. +Whitechoker, firmly. "In any event, he would be an extremely objec--" + +"It makes a great deal of difference," said the Idiot. "I've met +tragedians, and I've met comedians, and I've met New York Central stars, +and I can assure you they each represent a distinct type. The tragedians, +as a rule, are quiet meek individuals, with soft low voices, in private +life. They are more timid than otherwise, though essentially amiable. +I knew a tragedian once who, after killing seventeen Indians, a +road-agent, and a gross of cowboys between eight and ten P.M. +every night for sixteen weeks, working six nights a week, was afraid of a +mild little soft-shell crab that lay defenceless on a plate before him on +the evening of the seventh night of the last week. Tragedians make +agreeable companions, I can tell you; and if J. Brutus Davenport is a +tragedian, I think Mrs. Pedagog would do well to let him have the suite, +provided, of course, that he pays for it in advance." + +"I was about to observe, when our friend interrupted me," said Mr. +Whitechoker, with dignity, "that in any event an actor at this board +would be to me an extremely objec--" + +"Now the comedians," resumed the Idiot, ignoring Mr. Whitechoker's +remark--"the comedians are very different. They are twice as bloodthirsty +as the murderers of the drama, and, worse than that, they are given to +rehearsing at all hours of the day and night. A tragedian is a hard +character only on the stage, but the comedian is the comedian always. +If we had one of those fellows in our midst, it would not be very long +before we became part of the drama ourselves. Mrs. Pedagog would find +herself embarrassed once an hour, instead of, as at present, once a +century. Mr. Whitechoker would hear of himself as having appeared by +proxy in a roaring farce before our comedian had been with us two months. +The wise sayings of our friend the School-Master would be spoken nightly +from the stage, to the immense delight of the gallery gods, and to the +edification of the orchestra circle, who would wonder how so much +information could have got into the world and they not know it before. +The out-of-town papers would literally teem with witty extracts from our +comedian's plays, which we should immediately recognize as the dicta of +my poor self." + +[Illustration: "THEY ARE GIVEN TO REHEARSING AT ALL HOURS"] + +"All of which," put in Mr. Whitechoker, "but proves the truth of my +assertion that such a person would be an extremely objec--" + +"Then, as I said before," continued the Idiot, "he is continually +rehearsing, and his objectionableness as a fellow-boarder would be +greater or less, according to his play. If he were impersonating a +shiftless wanderer, who shows remarkable bravery at a hotel fire, we +should have to be prepared at any time to hear the fire-engines rushing +up to the front door, and to see our comedian scaling the fire-escape +with Mrs. Pedagog and her account-books in his arms, simply in the line +of rehearsal. If he were impersonating a detective after a criminal +masquerading as a good citizen, the School-Master would be startled some +night by a hoarse voice at his key-hole exclaiming: 'Ha! ha! I have him +now. There is no escape save by the back window, and that's so covered +o'er with dust 'twere suffocation sure to try it.' I hesitate to say what +would happen if he were a tank comedian." + +[Illustration: "'HA! HA! I HAVE HIM NOW!'"] + +"Perhaps," said Mr. Whitechoker, with a trifle more impatience than was +compatible with his calling--"perhaps you will hesitate long enough for +me to state what I have been trying to state ever since this soliloquy +of yours began--that in any event, whether this person be a tragedian, or +a comedian, or a walking gentleman, or a riding gentleman in a circus, I +object to his being admitted to this circle, and I deem it well to say +right here that as he comes in at the front door I go out at the back. As +a clergyman, I do not approve of the stage." + +"That ought to settle it," said the Idiot. "Mr. Whitechoker is too good +a friend to us all here for us to compel him to go out of that back door +into the rather limited market-garden Mrs. Pedagog keeps in the yard. My +indirect plea for the admission of Mr. Junius Brutus Davenport was based +entirely upon my desire to see this circle completed or nearer completion +than it is at present. We have all the professions represented here but +the stage, and why exclude it, granting that no one objects? The men +whose lives are given over to the amusement of mankind, and who are +willing to place themselves in the most outrageous situations night after +night in order that we may for the time being seem to be lifted out of +the unpleasant situations into which we have got ourselves, are in my +opinion doing a noble work. The theatre enables us to woo forgetfulness +of self successfully for a few brief hours, and I have seen the time when +an hour or two of relief from actual cares has resulted in great good. +Nevertheless, the gentleman is not elected; and if Mrs. Pedagog will +kindly refill my cup, I will ask you to join me in draining a toast to +the health of the pastor of this flock, whose conscience, paradoxical as +it may seem, is the most frequently worn and yet the least thread-bare +of the consciences represented at this table." + +This easy settlement of her difficulty was so pleasing to Mrs. Pedagog +that the Idiot's request was graciously acceded to, and Mr. Whitechoker's +health was drank in coffee, after which the Idiot requested the genial +gentleman who occasionally imbibed to join him privately in eating +buckwheat cakes to the health of Mr. Davenport. + +"I haven't any doubt that he is worthy of the attention," he said; "and +if you will lend me the money to buy the tickets, I'll take you around +to the Criterion to-night, where he is playing. I don't know whether he +plays Hamlet or A Hole in the Roof; but, at any rate, we can have a good +time between the acts." + + + + +IV + + +"I see the men are at work on the pavements this morning," said the +School-Master, gazing out through the window at a number of laborers at +work in the street. + +"Yes," said the Idiot, calmly, "and I think Mrs. Pedagog ought to sue the +Department of Public Works for libel. If she hasn't a case no maligned +person ever had." + +"What are you saying, sir?" queried the landlady, innocently. + +"I say," returned the Idiot, pointing out into the street, "that you +ought to sue the Department of Public Works for libel. They've got their +sign right up against your house. _No Thorough Fare_ is what it says. +That's libel, isn't it, Mr. Brief?" + +"It is certainly a fatal criticism of a boarding-house," observed Mr. +Brief, with a twinkle in his eye, "but Mrs. Pedagog could hardly secure +damages on that score." + +"I don't know about that," returned the Idiot. "As I understand it, it is +an old maxim of the law that the greater the truth the greater the libel. +Mrs. Pedagog ought to receive a million----By-the-way, what have we this +morning?" + +"We have steak and fried potatoes, sir," replied Mrs. Pedagog, frigidly. +"And I desire to add, that one who criticises the table as much as you do +would do well to get his meals outside." + +"That, Mrs. Pedagog, is not the point. The difficulty I find here lies in +getting my meals inside," said the Idiot. + +"Mary, you may bring in the mush," observed Mrs. Pedagog, pursing her +lips, as she always did when she wished to show that she was offended. + +"Yes, Mary," put in the School-Master; "let us have the mush as quickly +as possible--and may it not be quite such mushy mush as the remarks we +have just been favored with by our talented friend the Idiot." + +"You overwhelm me with your compliments, Mr. Pedagog," replied the Idiot, +cheerfully. "A flatterer like you should live in a flat." + +"Has your friend completed his article on old jokes yet?" queried the +Bibliomaniac, with a smile and some apparent irrelevance. + +[Illustration: "HAS YOUR FRIEND COMPLETED HIS ARTICLE ON OLD JOKES?"] + +"Yes and no," said the Idiot. "He has completed his labors on it by +giving it up. He is a very thorough sort of a fellow, and he intended +to make the article comprehensive, but he found he couldn't, because, +judging from comments of men like you, for instance, he was forced to +conclude that there never was a _new_ joke. But, as I was saying the +other morning----" + +"Do you really remember what you say?" sneered Mr. Pedagog. "You must +have a great memory for trifles." + +"Sir, I shall never forget you," said the Idiot. "But to revert to what +I was saying the other morning, I'd like to begin life all over again, so +that I could prepare myself for the profession of architecture. It's the +greatest profession in the world, and one which is surest to bring +immortality to its successful follower. A man may write a splendid book, +and become a great man for a while and within certain limits, but the +chances are that some other man will come along later and supplant him. +Then the book's sale will die out after a time, and with this will come +a diminution of its author's reputation, in extent anyway. An actor or a +great preacher becomes only a name after his death, but the architect who +builds a cathedral or a fine public building really erects a monument to +his own memory." + +"He does if he can build it so that it will stay up," said the +Bibliomaniac. "I think you, however, are better off as you are. If you +had a more extended reputation or a lasting name you would probably be +locked up in some retreat; or if you were not, posterity would want to +know why." + +"I am locked up in a retreat of Nature's making," said the Idiot, with a +sigh. "Nature has set around me certain limitations which, while they are +not material, might as well be so as far as my ability to soar above them +is concerned--and it's well she has. If it were otherwise, my life would +not be safe or bearable in this company. As it is, I am happy and not at +all afraid of the effects your jealousy of me might entail if I were any +better than the rest of you." + +"I like that," said Mr. Pedagog. + +"I thought you would," said the Idiot. "That's why I said it. I aim to +please, and for once seem to have hit the bull's-eye. Mary, kindly break +open this biscuit for me." + +"Have you ideas on the subject of architecture that you so desire to +become an architect?" queried Mr. Whitechoker, who was always full of +sympathy for aspiring natures. + +"A few," said the Idiot. + +Mr. Pedagog laughed outright. + +"Let's test his ideas," he said, in an amused way. "Take a cathedral, for +instance. Suppose, Mr. Idiot, a man should come to you and say: 'Idiot, +we have a fund of $800,000 in our hands, actual cash. We think of +building a cathedral, and we think of employing you to draw up our plans. +Give us some idea of what we should do.' Do you mean to tell me that you +could say anything reasonable or intelligent to that man?" + +"Well, that depends upon what you call reasonable and intelligent. I have +never been able to find out what you mean by those terms," the Idiot +answered, slowly. "But I could tell him something that I consider +reasonable and intelligent." + +"From your own point of view, then, as to reasonableness and +intelligence, what should you say to him?" + +"I'd make him out a plan providing for the investment of his $800,000 in +five-per-cent, gold bonds, which would bring him in an income of $40,000 +a year; after which I should call his attention to the fact that $40,000 +a year would enable him to take 10,000 poor children out of this +sweltering city into the country, to romp and drink fresh milk and eat +wholesome food for two weeks every summer from now until the end of time, +which would build up a human structure that might be of more benefit to +the world than any pile of bricks, marble, and wrought-iron I or any +other architect could conceive of," said the Idiot. "The structure would +stand up, too." + +"You call that architecture, do you?" said Mr. Pedagog. + +"Yes," said the Idiot, "of the renaissance order. But that, of course, +you term idiocy--and maybe it is. I like to be that kind of an idiot. I +do not claim to be able to build a cathedral, however. I don't suppose +I could even build a boarding-house like this, but what I should like to +do in architecture would be to put up a $5000 dwelling-house for $5000. +That's a thing that has never been done, and I think I might be able to +do it. If I did, I'd patent the plan and make a fortune. Then I should +like to know enough about the science of planning a building to find out +whether my model hotel is practicable or not." + +"You have a model hotel in your mind, eh?" said the Bibliomaniac. + +"It must be a very small hotel if it's in his mind," said the Doctor. + +"That's tantamount to saying that it isn't anywhere," said Mr. Pedagog. + +"Well, it's a great hotel just the same," said the Idiot. "Although I +presume it would be expensive to build. It would have movable rooms, in +the first place. Each room would be constructed like an elevator, with +appliances at hand for moving it up and down. The great thing about this +would be that persons could have a room on any floor they wanted it, so +long as they got the room in the beginning. A second advantage would lie +in the fact, that if you were sleeping in a room next door to another in +which there was a crying baby, you could pull the rope and go up two or +three flights until you were free from the noise. Then in case of fire +the room in which the fire started could be lowered into a sliding tank +large enough to immerse the whole thing in, which I should have +constructed in the cellar. If the whole building were to catch fire, +there would be no loss of life, because all the rooms could be lowered +to the ground-floor, and the occupants could step right out upon solid +ground. Then again, if you were down on the ground-floor, and desired to +get an extended view of the surrounding country, it would be easy to +raise your room to the desired elevation. Why, there's no end to the +advantages to be gained from such an arrangement." + +"It's a fine idea," said Mr. Pedagog, "and one worthy of your mammoth +intellect. It couldn't possibly cost more than a million of dollars to +erect such a hotel, could it?" + +"No," said the Idiot. "And that is cheap alongside some of the hotels +they are putting up nowadays." + +"It could be built on less than four hundred acres of ground, too, +I presume?" said the Bibliomaniac, with a wink at the Doctor. + +"Certainly," said the Idiot, meekly. + +"And if anybody fell sick in one of the rooms," said the Doctor, "and +needed a change of air, you could have a tower over each, I suppose, so +that the room could be elevated high enough to secure the different +quality in the ether?" + +"Undoubtedly," said the Idiot. "Although that would add materially to the +expense. A scarlet-fever patient, however, in a hotel like that could +very easily be isolated from the rest of the house by the maintenance of +what might be called the hospital floor." + +"Superb!" said the Doctor. "I wonder you haven't spoken to some +architectural friend about it." + +"I have," said the Idiot. "You must remember that young fellow with a +black mustache I had here to dinner last Saturday night." + +"Yes, I remember him," said the Doctor. "Is he an architect?" + +"He is--and a good one. He can take a brown-stone dwelling and turn it +into a colonial mansion with a pot of yellow paint. He's a wonder. I +submitted the idea to him." + +"And what was his verdict?" + +"I don't like to say," said the Idiot, blushing a little. + +"Ha! ha!" laughed Mr. Pedagog. "I shouldn't think you would like to say. +I guess we know what he said." + +"I doubt it," said the Idiot; "but if you guess right, I'll tell you." + +"He said you had better go and live in a lunatic asylum," said Mr. +Pedagog, with a chuckle. + +"Not he," returned the Idiot, nibbling at his biscuit. "On the contrary. +He advised me to stop living in one. He said contact with the rest of you +was affecting my brain." + +This time Mr. Pedagog did not laugh, but mistaking his coffee-cup for a +piece of toast, bit a small section out of its rim; and in the midst of +Mrs. Pedagog's expostulation, which followed the School-Master's careless +error, the Idiot and the Genial Old Gentleman departed, with smiles on +their faces which were almost visible at the back of their respective +necks. + +[Illustration: THEY DEPARTED] + + + + +V + + +"Hullo!" said the Idiot, as he began his breakfast. "This isn't Friday +morning, is it? I thought it was Tuesday." + +"So it is Tuesday," put in the School-Master. + +"Then this fish is a little extra treat, is it?" observed the Idiot, +turning with a smile to the landlady. + +"Fish? That isn't fish, sir," returned the good lady. "That is liver." + +"Oh, is it?" said the Idiot, apologetically. "Excuse me, my dear Mrs. +Pedagog. I thought from its resistance that it was fried sole. Have you +a hatchet handy?" he added, turning to the maid. + +"My piece is tender enough. I can't see what you want," said the +School-Master, coldly. + +"I'd like your piece," replied the Idiot, suavely. "That is, if it really +is tender enough." + +"Don't pay any attention to him, my dear," said the School-Master to the +landlady, whose ire was so very much aroused that she was about to make +known her sentiments on certain subjects. + +"No, Mrs. Pedagog," said the Idiot, "don't pay any attention to me, I +beg of you. Anything that could add to the jealousy of Mr. Pedagog would +redound to the discomfort of all of us. Besides, I really do not object +to the liver. I need not eat it. And as for staying my appetite, I always +stop on my way down-town after breakfast for a bite or two anyhow." + +There was silence for a moment. + +"I wonder why it is," began the Idiot, after tasting his coffee--"I +wonder why it is Friday is fish-day all over the world, anyhow? Do you +happen to be learned enough in piscatorial science to enlighten me on +that point, Doctor?" + +"No," returned the physician, gruffly. "I've never looked into the +matter." + +"I guess it's because Friday is an unlucky day," said the Idiot. "Just +think of all the unlucky things that may happen before and after eating +fish, as well as during the process. In the first place, before eating, +you go off and fish all day, and have no luck--don't catch a thing. You +fall in the water perhaps, and lose your watch, or your fish-hook +catches in your coat-tails, with the result that you come near casting +yourself instead of the fly into the brook or the pond, as the case may +be. Perhaps the hook doesn't stop with the coat-tails, but goes on in, +and catches you. That's awfully unlucky, especially when the hook is made +of unusually barby barbed wire. + +[Illustration: "YOU FISH ALL DAY, AND HAVE NO LUCK"] + +"Then, again, you may go fishing on somebody else's preserves, and get +arrested, and sent to jail overnight, and hauled up the next morning, and +have to pay ten dollars fine for poaching. Think of Mr. Pedagog being +fined ten dollars for poaching! Awfully unfortunate!" + +"Kindly leave me out of your calculations," returned Mr. Pedagog, with a +flush of indignation. + +"Certainly, if you wish it," said the Idiot. "We'll hand Mr. Brief over +to the police, and let _him_ be fined for poaching on somebody else's +preserves--although that's sort of impossible, too, because Mrs. Pedagog +never lets us see preserves of any kind." + +"We had brandied peaches last Sunday night," said the landlady, +indignantly. + +"Oh yes, so we did," returned the Idiot. "That must have been what the +Bibliomaniac had taken," he added, turning to the genial gentleman who +occasionally imbibed. "You know, we thought he'd been--ah--he'd been +absorbing." + +"To what do you refer?" asked the Bibliomaniac, curtly. + +"To the brandied peaches," returned the Idiot. "Do not press me further, +please, because we like you, old fellow, and I don't believe anybody +noticed it but ourselves." + +"Noticed what? I want to know what you noticed and when you noticed it," +said the Bibliomaniac, savagely. "I don't want any nonsense, either. I +just want a plain statement of facts. What did you notice?" + +"Well, if you must have it," said the Idiot, slowly, "my friend who +imbibes and I were rather pained on Sunday night to observe that +you--that you had evidently taken something rather stronger than cold +water, tea, or Mr. Pedagog's opinions." + +"It's a libel, sir!--a gross libel!" retorted the Bibliomaniac. "How did +I show it? That's what I want to know. How--did--I--show--it? Speak up +quick, and loud too. How did I show it?" + +"Well, you went up-stairs after tea." + +"Yes, sir, I did." + +"And my friend who imbibes and I were left down in the front hall, and +while we were talking there you put your head over the banisters and +asked, 'Who's that down there?' Remember that?" + +"Yes, sir, I do. And you replied, 'Mr. Auburnose and myself.'" + +"Yes. And then you asked, 'Who are the other two?'" + +"Well, I did. What of it?" + +"Mr. Auburnose and I were there alone. That's what of it. Now I put a +charitable construction on the matter and say it was the peaches, when +you fly off the handle like one of Mrs. Pedagog's coffee-cups." + +"Sir!" roared the Bibliomaniac, jumping from his chair. "You are the +greatest idiot I know." + +"Sir!" returned the Idiot, "you flatter me." + +But the Bibliomaniac was not there to hear. He had rushed from the room, +and during the deep silence that ensued he could be heard throwing things +about in the chamber overhead, and in a very few moments the banging of +the front door and scurrying down the brown-stone steps showed that he +had gone out of doors to cool off. + +[Illustration: HE COULD BE HEARD THROWING THINGS ABOUT] + +"It is too bad," said the Idiot, after a while, "that he has such a +quick temper. It doesn't do a bit of good to get mad that way. He'll be +uncomfortable all day long, and over what? Just because I attempted to +say a good word for him, and announce the restoration of my confidence in +his temperance qualities, he cuts up a high-jinks that makes everybody +uncomfortable. + +"But to resume about this fish business," continued the Idiot. "Fish--" + +"Oh, fish be hanged!" said the Doctor, impatiently. "We've had enough of +fish." + +"Very well," returned the idiot; "as you wish. Hanging isn't the best +treatment for fish, but we'll let that go. I never cared for the finny +tribe myself, and if Mrs. Pedagog can be induced to do it, I for one am +in favor of keeping shad, shark, and shrimps out of the house +altogether." + + + + +VI + + +The Idiot was unusually thoughtful--a fact which made the School-Master +and the Bibliomaniac unusually nervous. Their stock criticism of him was +that he was thoughtless; and yet when he so far forgot his natural +propensities as to meditate, they did not like it. It made them uneasy. +They had a haunting fear that he was conspiring with himself against +them, and no man, not even a callous school-master or a confirmed +bibliomaniac, enjoys feeling that he is the object of a conspiracy. The +thing to do, then, upon this occasion, seemed obviously to interrupt his +train of thought--to put obstructions upon his mental track, as it were, +and ditch the express, which they feared was getting up steam at that +moment to run them down. + +"You don't seem quite yourself this morning, sir," said the Bibliomaniac. + +"Don't I?" queried the Idiot. "And whom do I seem to be?" + +"I mean that you seem to have something on your mind that worries you," +said the Bibliomaniac. + +"No, I haven't anything on my mind," returned the Idiot. "I was thinking +about you and Mr. Pedagog--which implies a thought not likely to use up +much of my gray matter." + +"Do you think your head holds any gray matter?" put in the Doctor. + +"Rather verdant, I should say," said Mr. Pedagog. + +"Green, gray, or pink," said the Idiot, "choose your color. It does +not affect the fact that I was thinking about the Bibliomaniac and Mr. +Pedagog. I have a great scheme in hand, which only requires capital +and the assistance of those two gentlemen to launch it on the sea of +prosperity. If any of you gentlemen want to get rich and die in comfort +as the owner of your homes, now is your chance." + +"In what particular line of business is your scheme?" asked Mr. +Whitechoker. He had often felt that he would like to die in comfort, +and to own a little house, even if it had a large mortgage on it. + +"Journalism," said the Idiot. "There is a pile of money to be made out +of journalism, particularly if you happen to strike a new idea. Ideas +count." + +"How far up do your ideas count--up to five?" questioned Mr. Pedagog, +with a tinge of sarcasm in his tone. + +"I don't know about that," returned the Idiot. "The idea I have hold +of now, however, will count up into the millions if it can only be set +going, and before each one of those millions will stand a big capital S +with two black lines drawn vertically through it--in other words, my idea +holds dollars, but to get the crop you've got to sow the seed. Plant a +thousand dollars in my idea, and next year you'll reap two thousand. +Plant that, and next year you'll have four thousand, and so on. At that +rate millions come easy." + +"I'll give you a dollar for the idea," said the Bibliomaniac. + +"No, I don't want to sell. You'll do to help develop the scheme. You'll +make a first-rate tool, but you aren't the workman to manage the tool. I +will go as far as to say, however, that without you and Mr. Pedagog, or +your equivalents in the animal kingdom, the idea isn't worth the fabulous +sum you offer." + +"You have quite aroused my interest," said Mr. Whitechoker. "Do you +propose to start a new paper?" + +"You are a good guesser," replied the Idiot. "That is a part of the +scheme--but it isn't the idea. I propose to start a new paper in +accordance with the plan which the idea contains." + +"Is it to be a magazine, or a comic paper, or what?" asked the +Bibliomaniac. + +"Neither. It's a daily." + +"That's nonsense," said Mr. Pedagog, putting his spoon into the +condensed-milk can by mistake. "There isn't a single scheme in daily +journalism that hasn't been tried--except printing an evening paper in +the morning." + +"That's been tried," said the Idiot. "I know of an evening paper the +second edition of which is published at mid-day. That's an old dodge, and +there's money in it, too--money that will never be got out of it. But I +really have a grand scheme. So many of our dailies, you know, go in for +every horrid detail of daily events that people are beginning to tire of +them. They contain practically the same things day after day. So many +columns of murder, so many beautiful suicides, so much sport, a modicum +of general intelligence, plenty of fires, no end of embezzlements, +financial news, advertisements, and head-lines. Events, like history, +repeat themselves, until people have grown weary of them. They want +something new. For instance, if you read in your morning paper that +a man has shot another man, you know that the man who was shot was an +inoffensive person who never injured a soul, stood high in the community +in which he lived, and leaves a widow with four children. On the other +hand, you know without reading the account that the murderer shot his +victim in self-defence, and was apprehended by the detectives late last +night; that his counsel forbid him to talk to the reporters, and that it +is rumored that he comes of a good family living in New England. + +"If a breach of trust is committed, you know that the defaulter was the +last man of whom such an act would be suspected, and, except in the one +detail of its location and sect, that he was prominent in some church. +You can calculate to a cent how much has been stolen by a glance at the +amount of space devoted to the account of the crime. Loaf of bread, two +lines. Thousand dollars, ten lines. Hundred thousand dollars, +half-column. Million dollars, a full column. Five million dollars, +half the front page, wood-cut of the embezzler, and two editorials, one +leader and one paragraph. + +"And so with everything. We are creatures of habit. The expected always +happens, and newspapers are dull because the events they chronicle are +dull." + +"Granting the truth of this," put in the School-Master, "what do you +propose to do?" + +"Get up a newspaper that will devote its space to telling what hasn't +happened." + +"That's been done," said the Bibliomaniac. + +"To a much more limited extent than we think," returned the Idiot. "It +has never been done consistently and truthfully." + +"I fail to see how a newspaper can be made to prevaricate truthfully," +asserted Mr. Whitechoker. To tell the truth, he was greatly disappointed +with the idea, because he could not in the nature of things become one of +its beneficiaries. + +[Illustration: "HE WAS NOT MURDERED"] + +"I haven't suggested prevarication," said the Idiot. "Put on your front +page, for instance, an item like this: 'George Bronson, colored, aged +twenty-nine, a resident of Thompson Street, was caught cheating at poker +last night. He was not murdered.' There you tell what has not happened. +There is a variety about it. It has the charm of the unexpected. Then you +might say: 'Curious incident on Wall Street yesterday. So-and-so, who +was caught on the bear side of the market with 10,000 shares of J. B. & +S. K. W., paid off all his obligations in full, and retired from business +with $1,000,000 clear.' Or we might say, 'Superintendent Smithers, of the +St. Goliath's Sunday-school, who is also cashier in the Forty-eighth +National Bank, has not absconded with $4,000,000.'" + +[Illustration: "SUPERINTENDENT SMITHERS HAS NOT ABSCONDED"] + +"Oh, that's a rich idea," put in the School-Master. "You'd earn +$1,000,000 in libel suits the first year." + +"No, you wouldn't, either," said the Idiot. "You don't libel a man +when you say he hasn't murdered anybody. Quite the contrary, you call +attention to his conspicuous virtue. You are in reality commending those +who refrain from criminal practice, instead of delighting those who are +fond of departing from the paths of Christianity by giving them +notoriety." + +"But I fail to see in what respect Mr. Pedagog and I are essential to +your scheme," said the Bibliomaniac. + +"I must confess to some curiosity on my own part on that point," added +the School-Master. + +"Why, it's perfectly clear," returned the Idiot, with a conciliating +smile as he prepared to depart. "You both know so much that isn't so, +that I rather rely on you to fill up." + + + + +VII + + +A new boarder had joined the circle about Mrs. Pedagog's breakfast-table. +He had what the Idiot called a three-ply name--which was Richard +Henderson Warren--and he was by profession a poet. Whether it was this +that made it necessary for him to board or not, the rewards of the muse +being rather slender, was known only to himself, and he showed no +disposition to enlighten his fellow-boarders on the subject. His success +as a poet Mrs. Pedagog found it hard to gauge; for while the postman left +almost daily numerous letters, the envelopes of which showed that they +came from the various periodicals of the day, it was never exactly clear +whether or not the missives contained remittances or rejected +manuscripts, though the fact that Mr. Warren was the only boarder in the +house who had requested to have a waste-basket added to the furniture of +his room seemed to indicate that they contained the latter. To this +request Mrs. Pedagog had gladly acceded, because she had a notion that +therein at some time or another would be found a clew to the new +boarder's past history--or possibly some evidence of such duplicity +as the good lady suspected he might be guilty of. She had read that Byron +was profligate, and that Poe was addicted to drink, and she was impressed +with the idea that poets generally were bad men, and she regarded the +waste-basket as a possible means of protecting herself against any such +idiosyncrasies of her new-found genius as would operate to her +disadvantage if not looked after in time. + +This waste-basket she made it her daily duty to empty, and in the privacy +of her own room. Half-finished "ballads, songs, and snatches" she perused +before consigning them to the flames or to the large jute bag in the +cellar, for which the ragman called two or three times a year. Once Mrs. +Pedagog's heart almost stopped beating when she found at the bottom of +the basket a printed slip beginning, "_The Editor regrets that the +enclosed lines are unavailable_," and closing with about thirteen +reasons, any one or all of which might have been the main cause of the +poet's disappointment. Had it not been for the kindly clause in the +printed slip that insinuated in graceful terms that this rejection did +not imply a lack of literary merit in the contribution itself, the good +lady, knowing well that there was even less money to be made from +rejected than from accepted poetry, would have been inclined to request +the poet to vacate the premises. The very next day, however, she was glad +she had not requested the resignation of the poet from the laureateship +of her house; for the same basket gave forth another printed slip from +another editor, begging the poet to accept the enclosed check, with +thanks for his contribution, and asking him to deposit it as soon as +practicable--which was pleasing enough, since it implied that the poet +was the possessor of a bank account. + +Now Mrs. Pedagog was consumed with curiosity to know for how large a sum +the check called--which desire was gratified a few days later, when the +inspired boarder paid his week's bill with three one-dollar bills and a +check, signed by a well-known publisher, for two dollars. + +[Illustration: THE INSPIRED BOARDER PAID HIS BILL] + +By the boarders themselves the poet was regarded with much interest. +The School-Master had read one or two of his effusions in the Fireside +Corner of the journal he received weekly from his home up in New +England--effusions which showed no little merit, as well as indicating +that Mr. Warren wrote for a literary syndicate; Mr. Whitechoker had known +of him as the young man who was to have written a Christmas carol for his +Sunday-school a year before, and who had finished and presented the +manuscript shortly after New-Year's day; while to the Idiot, Mr. Warren's +name was familiar as that of a frequent contributor to the funny papers +of the day. + +"I was very much amused by your poem in the last number of the +_Observer_, Mr. Warren," said the Idiot, as they sat down to breakfast +together. + +"Were you, indeed?" returned Mr. Warren. "I am sorry to hear that, for it +was intended to be a serious effort." + +"Of course it was, Mr. Warren, and so it appeared," said the +School-Master, with an indignant glance at the Idiot. "It was a very +dignified and stately bit of work, and I must congratulate you upon it." + +"I didn't mean to give offence," said the Idiot. "I've read so much of +yours that was purely humorous that I believe I'd laugh at a dirge if you +should write one; but I really thought your lines in the _Observer_ were +a burlesque. You had the same thought that Rossetti expresses in 'The +Woodspurge': + + 'The wind flapped loose, the wind was still, + Shaken out dead from tree to hill; + I had walked on at the wind's will, + I sat now, for the wind was still.' + +That's Rossetti, if you remember. Slightly suggestive of 'Blow Ye Winds +of the Morning! Blow! Blow! Blow!' but more or less pleasing." + +"I recall the poem you speak of," said Warren, with dignity; "but the +true poet, sir--and I hope I have some claim to be considered as +such--never so far forgets himself as to burlesque his masters." + +"Well, I don't know what to call it, then, when a poet takes the same +thought that has previously been used by his masters and makes a funny +poem--" + +"But," returned the Poet, warmly, "it was not a funny poem." + +"It made me laugh," retorted the Idiot, "and that is more than half the +professedly funny poems we get nowadays can do. Therefore I say it was a +funny poem, and I don't see how you can deny that it was a burlesque of +Rossetti." + +"Well, I do deny it _in toto_." + +"I don't know anything about denying it _in toto_," rejoined the Idiot, +"but I'd deny it in print if I were you. I know plenty of people who +think it was a burlesque, and I overheard one man say--he is a Rossetti +crank--that you ought to be ashamed of yourself for writing it." + +"There is no use of discussing the matter further," said the Poet. "I am +innocent of any such intent as you have ascribed to me, and if people say +I have burlesqued Rossetti they say what is not true." + +"Did you ever read that little poem of Swinburne's called 'The Boy at the +Gate'?" asked the Idiot, to change the subject. + +"I have no recollection of it," said the Poet, shortly. + +"The name sounds familiar," put in Mr. Whitechoker, anxious not to be +left out of a literary discussion. + +"I have read it, but I forget just how it goes," vouchsafed the +School-Master, forgetting for a moment the Robert Elsmere episode and its +lesson. + +"It goes something like this," said the Idiot: + + "Sombre and sere the slim sycamore sighs; + Lushly the lithe leaves lie low o'er the land; + Whistles the wind with its whisperings wise, + Grewsomely gloomy and garishly grand. + So doth the sycamore solemnly stand, + Wearily watching in wondering wait; + So it has stood for six centuries, and + Still it is waiting the boy at the gate." + +"No; I never read the poem," said Mr. Whitechoker, "but I'd know it was +Swinburne in a minute. He has such a command of alliterative language." + +"Yes," said the Poet, with an uneasy glance at the Idiot. "It is +Swinburnian; but what was the poem about?" + +"'The boy at the gate,'" said the Idiot. "The idea was that the sycamore +was standing there for centuries waiting for the boy who never turns up." + +"It really is a beautiful thought," put in Mr. Whitechoker. "It is, I +presume, an allegory to contrast faithful devotion and constancy with +unfaithfulness and fickleness. Such thoughts occur only to the wholly +gifted. It is only to the poetic temperament that the conception of such +a thought can come coupled with the ability to voice it in fitting terms. +There is a grandeur about the lines the Idiot has quoted that betrays the +master-mind." + +"Very true," said the School-Master, "and I take this opportunity to say +that I am most agreeably surprised in the Idiot. It is no small thing +even to be able to repeat a poet's lines so carefully, and with so great +lucidity, and so accurately, as I can testify that he has just done." + +"Don't be too pleased, Mr. Pedagog," said the Idiot, dryly. "I only +wanted to show Mr. Warren that you and Mr. Whitechoker, mines of +information though you are, have not as yet worked up a corner on +knowledge to the exclusion of the rest of us." And with these words the +Idiot left the table. + +"He is a queer fellow," said the School-Master. "He is full of pretence +and hollowness, but he is sometimes almost brilliant." + +"What you say is very true," said Mr. Whitechoker. "I think he has just +escaped being a smart man. I wish we could take him in hand, Mr. Pedagog, +and make him more of a fellow than he is." + +Later in the day the Poet met the Idiot on the stairs. "I say," he said, +"I've looked all through Swinburne, and I can't find that poem." + +"I know you can't," returned the Idiot, "because it isn't there. +Swinburne never wrote it. It was a little thing of my own. I was only +trying to get a rise out of Mr. Pedagog and his Reverence with it. You +have frequently appeared impressed by the undoubtedly impressive manner +of these two gentlemen. I wanted to show you what their opinions were +worth." + +[Illustration: "I KNOW YOU CAN'T, BECAUSE IT ISN'T THERE"] + +"Thank you," returned the Poet, with a smile. "Don't you want to go +into partnership with me and write for the funny papers? It would be +a splendid thing for me--your ideas are so original." + +"And I can see fun in everything, too," said the Idiot, thoughtfully. + +"Yes," returned the Poet. "Even in my serious poems." + +Which remark made the Idiot blush a little, but he soon recovered his +composure and made a firm friend of the Poet. + +The first fruits of the partnership have not yet appeared, however. + +As for Messrs. Whitechoker and Pedagog, when they learned how they had +been deceived, they were so indignant that they did not speak to the +Idiot for a week. + + + + +VIII + + +It was Sunday morning, and Mr. Whitechoker, as was his wont on the first +day of the week, appeared at the breakfast table severe as to his mien. + +"Working on Sunday weighs on his mind," the Idiot said to the +Bibliomaniac, "but I don't see why it should. The luxury of rest +that he allows himself the other six days of the week is surely an +atonement for the hours of labor he puts in on Sunday." + +But it was not this that on Sunday mornings weighed on the mind of the +Reverend Mr. Whitechoker. He appeared more serious of visage then because +he had begun to think of late that his fellow-boarders lived too much in +the present, and ignored almost totally that which might be expected to +come. He had been revolving in his mind for several weeks the question as +to whether it was or was not his Christian duty to attempt to influence +the lives of these men with whom the chances of life had brought him in +contact. He had finally settled it to his own satisfaction that it was +his duty so to do, and he had resolved, as far as lay in his power, to +direct the conversation at Sunday morning's breakfast into spiritual +rather than into temporal matters. + +So, as Mrs. Pedagog was pouring the coffee, Mr. Whitechoker began: + +"Do you gentlemen ever pause in your every-day labors and thought to let +your minds rest upon the future--the possibilities it has in store for +us, the consequences which--" + +"No mush, thank you," said the Idiot. Then turning to Mr. Whitechoker, he +added: "I can't answer for the other gentlemen at this board, but I can +assure you, Mr. Whitechoker, that I often do so. It was only last night, +sir, that my genial friend who imbibes and I were discussing the future +and its possibilities, and I venture to assert that there is no more +profitable food for reflection anywhere in the larders of the mind than +that." + +"Larders of the mind is excellent," said the School-Master, with a touch +of sarcasm in his voice. "Perhaps you would not mind opening the door to +your mental pantry, and letting us peep within at the stores you keep +there. I am sure that on the subject in hand your views cannot fail to be +original as well as edifying." + +"I am also sure," said Mr. Whitechoker, somewhat surprised to hear the +Idiot speak as he did, having sometimes ventured to doubt if that +flippant-minded young man ever reflected on the serious side of life--"I +am also sure that it is most gratifying to hear that you have done some +thinking on the subject." + +"I am glad you are gratified, Mr. Whitechoker," replied the Idiot, "but +I am far from taking undue credit to myself because I reflect upon the +future and its possibilities. I do not see how any man can fail to be +interested in the subject, particularly when he considers the great +strides science has made in the last twenty years." + +"I fail to see," said the School-Master, "what the strides of science +have to do with it." + +"You fail to see so often, Mr. Pedagog," returned the Idiot, "that I +would advise your eyes to make an assignment in favor of your pupils." + +"I must confess," put in Mr. Whitechoker, blandly, "that I too am +somewhat--er--somewhat--" + +"Somewhat up a tree as to science's connection with the future?" queried +the Idiot. + +"You have my meaning, but hardly the phraseology I should have chosen," +replied the minister. + +"My style is rather epigrammatic," said the Idiot, suavely. "I appreciate +the flattery implied by your noticing it. But science has everything to +do with it. It is science that is going to make the future great. It is +science that has annihilated distance, and the annihilation has just +begun. Twenty years ago it was hardly possible for a man standing on one +side of the street to make himself heard on the other, the acoustic +properties of the atmosphere not being what they should be. To-day +you can stand in the pulpit of your church, and by means of certain +scientific apparatus make yourself heard in Boston, New Orleans, or San +Francisco. Has this no bearing on the future? The time will come, Mr. +Whitechoker, when your missionaries will be able to sit in their +comfortable rectories, and ring up the heathen in foreign climes, and +convert them over the telephone, without running the slightest danger of +falling into the soup, which expression I use in its literal rather than +in its metaphorical sense." + +[Illustration: "YOU CAN MAKE YOURSELF HEARD IN SAN FRANCISCO"] + +"But--" interrupted Mr. Whitechoker. + +"Now wait, please," said the Idiot. "If science can annihilate degrees of +distance, who shall say that before many days science may not annihilate +degrees of time? If San Francisco, thousands of miles distant, can be +brought within range of the ear, why cannot 1990 be brought before the +mind's eye? And if 1990 can be brought before the mind's eye, what is to +prevent the invention of a prophetograph which shall enable us to cast a +horoscope which shall reach all around eternity and half-way back, if not +further?" + +[Illustration: THE PROPHETOGRAPH] + +"You do not understand me," said Mr. Whitechoker. "When I speak of the +future, I do not mean the temporal future." + +"I know exactly what you mean," said the Idiot. "I've dealt in futures, +and I am familiar with all kinds. It is you, sir, that do not understand +me. My claim is perfectly plausible, and in its results is bound to make +the world better. Do you suppose that any man who, by the aid of my +prophetograph, sees that on a certain date in the future he will be +hanged for murder is going to fail to provide himself with an alibi in +regard to that particular murder, and must we not admit that having +provided himself with that alibi he will of necessity avoid bloodshed, +and so avoid the gallows? That's reasonable. So in regard to all the +thousand and one other peccadilloes that go to make this life a sinful +one. Science, by a purely logical advance along the lines already mapped +out for itself, and in part already traversed, will enable men to avoid +the pitfalls and reap only the windfalls of life; we shall all see what +terrible consequences await on a single misstep, and we shall not make +the misstep. Can you still claim that science and the future have nothing +to do with each other?" + +"You are talking of matters purely temporal," said Mr. Whitechoker. "I +have reference to our spiritual future." + +"And the two," observed the Idiot, "are so closely allied that we cannot +separate them. The proverb about looking after the pennies and letting +the pounds take care of themselves applies here. I believe that if I take +care of my temporal future--which, by-the-way, does not exist--my +spiritual future will take care of itself; and if science places the +hereafter before us--and you admit that even now it is before us--all we +have to do is to take advantage of our opportunities, and mend our lives +accordingly." + +"But if science shows you what is to come," said the School-Master, "it +must show your fate with perfect accuracy, or it ceases to be science, in +which event your entertaining notions as to reform and so on are entirely +fallacious." + +"Not at all," said the Idiot. "We are approaching the time when science, +which is much more liberal than any other branch of knowledge, will +sacrifice even truth itself for the good of mankind." + +"You ought to start a paradox company," suggested the Doctor. + +"Either that or make himself the nucleus of an insane asylum," observed +the School-Master, viciously. "I never knew a man with such maniacal +views as those we have heard this morning." + +"There is a great deal, Mr. Pedagog, that you have never known," returned +the Idiot. "Stick by me, and you'll die with a mind richly stored." + +Whereat the School-Master left the table with such manifest impatience +that Mr. Whitechoker was sorry he had started the conversation. + +The genial gentleman who occasionally imbibed and the Idiot withdrew to +the latter's room, where the former observed: + +"What are you driving at, anyhow? Where did you get those crazy ideas?" + +"I ate a Welsh-rarebit last night, and dreamed 'em," returned the Idiot. + +"I thought as much," said his companion. "What deuced fine things dreams +are, anyhow!" + + + + +IX + + +Breakfast was very nearly over, and it was of such exceptionally good +quality that very few remarks had been made. Finally the ball was set +rolling by the Lawyer. + +"How many packs of cigarettes do you smoke a day?" he asked, as the Idiot +took one from his pocket and placed it at the side of his coffee-cup. + +"Never more than forty-six," said the Idiot. "Why? Do you think of +starting a cigarette stand?" + +"Not at all," said Mr. Brief. "I was only wondering what chance you had +to live to maturity, that's all. Your maturity period will be in about +eight hundred and sixty years from now, the way I calculate, and it +seemed to me that, judging from the number of cigarettes you smoke, you +were not likely to last through more than two or three of those years." + +"Oh, I expect to live longer than that," said the Idiot. "I think I'm +good for at least four years. Don't you, Doctor?" + +"I decline to have anything to say about your case," retorted the Doctor, +whose feeling towards the Idiot was not surpassingly affectionate. + +"In that event I shall probably live five years more," said the Idiot. + +The Doctor's lip curled, but he remained silent. + +"You'll live," put in Mr. Pedagog, with a chuckle. "The good die young." + +"How did you happen to keep alive all this time then, Mr. Pedagog?" asked +the Idiot. + +"I have always eschewed tobacco in every form, for one thing," said Mr. +Pedagog. + +"I am surprised," put in the Idiot. "That's really a bad habit, and I +marvel greatly that you should have done it." + +The School-Master frowned, and looked at the Idiot over the rims of his +glasses, as was his wont when he was intent upon getting explanations. + +"Done what?" he asked, severely. + +"Chewed tobacco," replied the Idiot. "You just said that one of the +things that has kept you lingering in this vale of tears was that you +have always chewed tobacco. I never did that, and I never shall do it, +because I deem it a detestable diversion." + +"I didn't say anything of the sort," retorted Mr. Pedagog, getting red in +the face. "I never said that I chewed tobacco in any form." + +"Oh, come!" said the Idiot, with well-feigned impatience, "what's the use +of talking that way? We all heard what you said, and I have no doubt that +it came as a shock to every member of this assemblage. It certainly was a +shock to me, because, with all my weaknesses and bad habits, I think +tobacco-chewing unutterably bad. The worst part of it is that you chew it +in every form. A man who chews chewing-tobacco only may some time throw +off the habit, but when one gets to be such a victim to it that he chews +up cigars and cigarettes and plugs of pipe tobacco, it seems to me he is +incurable. It is not only a bad habit then; it amounts to a vice." + +Mr. Pedagog was getting apoplectic. "You know well enough that I never +said the words you attribute to me," he said, sternly. + +"Really, Mr. Pedagog," returned the Idiot, with an irritating shake of +his head, as if he were confidentially hinting to the School-Master to +keep quiet--"really you pain me by these futile denials. Nobody forced +you into the confession. You made it entirely of your own volition. Now +I ask you, as a man and brother, what's the use of saying anything more +about it? We believe you to be a person of the strictest veracity, but +when you say a thing before a tableful of listeners one minute, and deny +it the next, we are forced to one of two conclusions, neither of which is +pleasing. We must conclude that either, repenting your confession, you +sacrifice the truth, or that the habit to which you have confessed has +entirely destroyed your perception of the moral question involved. Undue +use of tobacco has, I believe, driven men crazy. Opium-eating has +destroyed all regard for truth in one whose word had always been regarded +as good as a government bond. I presume the undue use of tobacco can +accomplish the same sad result. By-the-way, did you ever try opium?" + +"Opium is ruin," said the Doctor, Mr. Pedagog's indignation being so +great that he seemed to be unable to find the words he was evidently +desirous of hurling at the Idiot. + +"It is, indeed," said the Idiot. "I knew a man once who smoked one little +pipeful of it, and, while under its influence, sat down at his table and +wrote a story of the supernatural order that was so good that everybody +said he must have stolen it from Poe or some other master of the weird, +and now nobody will have anything to do with him. Tobacco, however, in +the sane use of it, is a good thing. I don't know of anything that is +more satisfying to the tired man than to lie back on a sofa, of an +evening, and puff clouds of smoke and rings into the air. One of the +finest dreams I ever had came from smoking. I had blown a great mountain +of smoke out into the room, and it seemed to become real, and I climbed +to its summit and saw the most beautiful country at my feet--a country in +which all men were happy, where there were no troubles of any kind, where +no whim was left ungratified, where jealousies were not, and where every +man who made more than enough to live on paid the surplus into the common +treasury for the use of those who hadn't made quite enough. It was a +national realization of the golden rule, and I maintain that if smoking +were bad nothing so good, even in the abstract form of an idea, could +come out of it." + +"That's a very nice thought," said the Poet. "I'd like to put that into +verse. The idea of a people dividing up their surplus of wealth among the +less successful strugglers is beautiful." + +"You can have it," said the Idiot, with a pleased smile. "I don't write +poetry of that kind myself unless I work hard, and I've found that when +the poet works hard he produces poems that read hard. You are welcome to +it. Another time I was dreaming over my cigar, after a day of the hardest +kind of trouble at the office. Everything had gone wrong with me, and I +was blue as indigo. I came home here, lit a cigar, and threw myself down +upon my bed and began to puff. I felt like a man in a deep pit, out of +which there was no way of getting. I closed my eyes for a second, and to +all intents and purposes I lay in that pit. And then what did tobacco do +for me? Why, it lifted me right out of my prison. I thought I was sitting +on a rock down in the depths. The stars twinkled tantalizingly above me. +They invited me to freedom, knowing that freedom was not attainable. Then +I blew a ring of smoke from my mouth, and it began to rise slowly at +first, and then, catching in a current of air, it flew upward more +rapidly, widening constantly, until it disappeared in the darkness above. +Then I had a thought. I filled my mouth as full of smoke as possible, and +blew forth the greatest ring you ever saw, and as it started to rise I +grasped it in my two hands. It struggled beneath my weight, lengthened +out into an elliptical link, and broke, and let me down with a dull thud. +Then I made two rings, grasping one with my left hand and the other with +my right--" + +[Illustration: "I GRASPED IT IN MY TWO HANDS"] + +"And they lifted you out of the pit, I suppose?" sneered the +Bibliomaniac. + +"I do not say that they did," said the Idiot, calmly. "But I do know that +when I opened my eyes I wasn't in the pit any longer, but up-stairs in my +hall-bedroom." + +"How awfully mysterious!" said the Doctor, satirically. + +"Well, I don't approve of smoking," said Mr. Whitechoker. "I agree with +the London divine who says it is the pastime of perdition. It is not +prompted by natural instincts. It is only the habit of artificial +civilization. Dogs and horses and birds get along without it. Why +shouldn't man?" + +"Hear! hear!" cried Mr. Pedagog, clapping his hands approvingly. + +"Where? where?" put in the Idiot. "That's a great argument. Dog's don't +put up in boarding-houses. Is the boarding-house, therefore, the result +of a degraded, artificial civilization? I have seen educated horses that +didn't smoke, but I have never seen an educated horse, or an uneducated +one, for that matter, that had even had the chance to smoke, or the kind +of mouth that would enable him to do it in case he had the chance. I +have also observed that horses don't read books, that birds don't eat +mutton-chops, that dogs don't go to the opera, that donkeys don't play +the piano--at least, four-legged donkeys don't--so you might as well +argue that since horses, dogs, birds, and donkeys get along without +literature, music, mutton-chops, and piano-playing--" + +"You've covered music," put in the Lawyer, who liked to be precise. + +"True; but piano-playing isn't always music," returned the Idiot. +"You might as well argue because the beasts and the birds do without +these things man ought to. Fish don't smoke, neither do they join the +police-force, therefore man should neither smoke nor become a guardian +of the peace." + +[Illustration: "PIANO-PLAYING ISN'T ALWAYS MUSIC"] + +"Nevertheless it is a pastime of perdition," insisted Mr. Whitechoker. + +"No, it isn't," retorted the Idiot. "Smoking is the business of +perdition. It smokes because it has to." + +"There! there!" remonstrated Mr. Pedagog. + +"You mean hear! hear! I presume," said the Idiot. + +"I mean that you have said enough!" remarked Mr. Pedagog, sharply. + +"Very well," said the Idiot. "If I have convinced you all I am satisfied, +not to say gratified. But really, Mr. Pedagog," he added, rising to leave +the room, "if I were you I'd give up the practice of chewing--" + +"Hold on a minute, Mr. Idiot," said Mr. Whitechoker, interrupting. He was +desirous that Mr. Pedagog should not be further irritated. "Let me ask +you one question. Does your old father smoke?" + +"No," said the Idiot, leaning easily over the back of his chair--"no. +What of it?" + +"Nothing at all--except that perhaps if he could get along without it you +might," suggested the clergyman. + +"He couldn't get along without it if he knew what good tobacco was," said +the Idiot. + +"Then why don't you introduce him to it?" asked the Minister. + +"Because I do not wish to make him unhappy," returned the Idiot, softly. +"He thinks his seventy years have been the happiest years that any mortal +ever had, and if now in his seventy-first year he discovered that during +the whole period of his manhood he had been deprived through ignorance of +so great a blessing as a good cigar, he'd become like the rest of us, +living in anticipation of delights to come, and not finding approximate +bliss in living over the past. Trust me, my dear Mr. Whitechoker, to look +after him. He and my mother and my life are all I have." + +The Idiot left the room, and Mr. Pedagog put in a greater part of the +next half-hour in making personal statements to the remaining boarders to +the effect that the word he used was eschewed, and not the one attributed +to him by the Idiot. + +Strange to say, most of them were already aware of that fact. + + + + +X + + +"The progress of invention in this country has been very remarkable," +said Mr. Pedagog, as he turned his attention from a scientific weekly he +had been reading to a towering pile of buckwheat cakes that Mary had just +brought in. "An Englishman has just discovered a means by which a ship in +distress at sea can write for help on the clouds." + +"Extraordinary!" said Mr. Whitechoker. + +"It might be more so," observed the Idiot, coaxing the platterful of +cakes out of the School-Master's reach by a dexterous movement of his +hand. "And it will be more so some day. The time is coming when the +moon itself will be used by some enterprising American to advertise his +soap business. I haven't any doubt that the next fifty years will develop +a stereopticon by means of which a picture of a certain brand of cigar +may be projected through space until it seems to be held between the +teeth of the man in the moon, with a printed legend below it stating +that this is _Tooforfivers Best, Rolled from Hand-made Tobacco, Warranted +not to Crock or Fade, and for sale by All Tobacconists at Eighteen for a +Dime_." + +[Illustration: "THE MOON ITSELF WILL BE USED"] + +"You would call that an advance in invention, eh?" asked the +School-Master. + +"Why not?" queried the Idiot. + +"Do you consider the invention which would enable man to debase nature to +the level of an advertising medium an advance?" + +"I should not consider the use of the moon for the dissemination of good +news a debasement. If the cigars were good--and I have no doubt that some +one will yet invent a cheap cigar that is good--it would benefit the +human race to be acquainted with that fact. I think sometimes that the +advertisements in the newspapers and the periodicals of the day are of +more value to the public than the reading-matter, so-called, that stands +next to them. I don't see why you should sneer at advertising. I should +never have known you, for instance, Mr. Pedagog, had it not been for Mrs. +Pedagog's advertisement offering board and lodging to single gentlemen +for a consideration. Nor would you have met Mrs. Smithers, now your +estimable wife, yourself, had it not been for that advertisement. Why, +then, do you sneer at the ladder upon which you have in a sense climbed +to your present happiness? You are ungrateful." + +"How you do ramify!" said Mr. Pedagog. "I believe there is no subject in +the world which you cannot connect in some way or another with every +other subject in the world. A discussion of the merits of Shakespeare's +sonnets could be turned by your dexterous tongue in five minutes into a +quarrel over the comparative merits of cider and cod-liver oil as +beverages, with you, the chances are, the advocate of cod-liver oil as +a steady drink." + +"Well, I must say," said the Idiot, with a smile, "it has been my +experience that cod-liver oil is steadier than cider. The cod-liver +oils I have had the pleasure of absorbing have been evenly vile, while +the ciders that I have drank have been of a variety of goodness, badness, +and indifferentness which has brought me to the point where I never touch +it. But to return to inventions, since you desire to limit our discussion +to a single subject, I think it is about the most interesting field of +speculation imaginable." + +"There you are right," said Mr. Pedagog, approvingly. "There is +absolutely no limit to the possibilities involved. It is almost within +the range of possibilities that some man may yet invent a buckwheat cake +that will satisfy your abnormal craving for that delicacy, which the +present total output of this table seems unable to do." + +Here Mr. Pedagog turned to his wife, and added: "My dear, will you +request the cook hereafter to prepare individual cakes for us? The Idiot +has so far monopolized all that have as yet appeared." + +"It appears to me," said the Idiot at this point, "that _you_ are the +ramifier, Mr. Pedagog. Nevertheless, ramify as much as you please. I can +follow you--at a safe distance, of course--in the discussion of anything, +from Edison to flapjacks. I think your suggestion regarding individual +cakes is a good one. We might all have separate griddles, upon which +Gladys, the cook, can prepare them, and on these griddles might be cast +in bold relief the crest of each member of this household, so that every +man's cake should, by an easy process in the making, come off the fire +indelibly engraved with the evidence of its destiny. Mr. Pedagog's iron, +for instance, might have upon it a school-book rampant, or a large head +in the same condition. Mr. Whitechoker's cake-mark might be a pulpit +rampant, based upon a vestryman dormant. The Doctor might have a lozengy +shield with a suitable tincture, while my genial friend who occasionally +imbibes could have a barry shield surmounted by a small effigy of +Gambrinus." + +"You appear to know something of heraldry," said the poet, with a look of +surprise. + +"I know something of everything," said the Idiot, complacently. + +"It's a pity you don't know everything about something," sneered the +Doctor. + +"I would suggest," said the School-Master, dryly, "that a little rampant +jackass would make a good crest for your cakes." + +"That's a very good idea," said the Idiot. "I do not know but that a +jackass rampant would be about as comprehensive of my virtues as anything +I might select. The jackass is a combination of all the best qualities. +He is determined. He minds his own business. He doesn't indulge in +flippant conversation. He is useful. Has no vices, never pretends to be +anything but a jackass, and most respectfully declines to be ridden by +Tom, Dick, and Harry. I accept the suggestion of Mr. Pedagog with thanks. +But we are still ramifying. Let us get back to inventions. Now I fully +believe that the time is coming when some inventive genius will devise a +method whereby intellect can be given to those who haven't any. I believe +that the time is coming when the secrets of the universe will be yielded +up to man by nature." + +[Illustration: "DECLINES TO BE RIDDEN"] + +"And then?" queried Mr. Brief. + +"Then some man will try to improve on the secrets of the universe. He +will try to invent an apparatus by means of which the rotation of the +world may be made faster or slower, according to his will. If he has but +one day, for instance, in which to do a stated piece of work, and he +needs two, he will put on some patent brake and slow the world up until +the distance travelled in one hour shall be reduced one-half, so that one +hour under the old system will be equivalent to two; or if he is +anticipating some joy, some diversion in the future, the same smart +person will find a way to increase the speed of the earth so that the +hours will be like minutes. Then he'll begin fooling with gravitation, +and he will discover a new-fashioned lodestone, which can be carried in +one's hat to counter-act the influence of the centre of gravity when one +falls out of a window or off a precipice, the result of which will be +that the person who falls off one of these high places will drop down +slowly, and not with the rapidity which at the present day is responsible +for the dreadful outcome of accidents of that sort. Then, finally--" + +"You pretend to be able to penetrate to the finality, do you?" asked the +Clergyman. + +"Why not? It is as easy to imagine the finality as it is to go half-way +there," returned the Idiot. "Finally he will tackle some elementary +principle of nature, and he'll blow the world to smithereens." + +There was silence at the table. This at least seemed to be a tenable +theory. That man should have the temerity to take liberties with +elementary principles was quite within reason, man being an animal of +rare conceit, and that the result would bring about destruction was not +at all at variance with probability. + +"I believe it's happened once or twice already," said the Idiot. + +"Do you really?" asked Mr. Pedagog, with a show of interest. "Upon what +do you base this belief?" + +"Well, take Africa," said the Idiot. "Take North America. What do we +find? We find in the sands of the Sahara a great statue, which we call +the Sphinx, and about which we know nothing, except that it is there and +that it keeps its mouth shut. We find marvellous creations in engineering +that to-day surpass anything that we can do. The Sphinx, when discovered, +was covered by sand. Now I believe that at one time there were people +much further advanced in science than ourselves, who made these wonderful +things, who knew how to do things that we don't even dream of doing, and +I believe that they, like this creature I have predicted, got fooling +with the centre of gravity, and that the world slipped its moorings for a +period of time, during which time it tumbled topsy-turvey into space, and +that banks and banks of sand and water and ice thrown out of position +simply swept on and over the whole surface of the globe continuously +until the earth got into the grip of the rest of the universe once more +and started along in a new orbit. We know that where we are high and dry +to-day the ocean must once have rolled. We know that where the world is +now all sunshine and flowers great glaciers stood. What caused all this +change? Nothing else, in my judgment, than the monkeying of man with the +forces of nature. The poles changed, and it wouldn't surprise me a bit +that, if the north pole were ever found and could be thawed out, we +should find embedded in that great sea of ice evidences of a former +civilization, just as in the Saharan waste evidences of the same thing +have been found. I know of a place out West that is literally strewn with +oyster-shells, and yet no man living has the slightest idea how they came +there. It may have been the Massachusetts Bay of a pre-historic time, for +all we know. It may have been an antediluvian Coney Island, for all the +world knows. Who shall say that this little upset of mine found here an +oyster-bed, shook all the oysters out of their bed into space, and left +their clothes high and dry in a locality which, but for those garments, +would seem never to have known the oyster in his prime? Off in +Westchester County, on the top of a high hill, lies a rock, and in the +uppermost portion of that rock is a so-called pot-hole, made by nothing +else than the dropping of water of a brook and the swirling of pebbles +therein. It is now beyond the reach of anything in the shape of water +save that which falls from the heavens. It is certain that this pot-hole +was never made by a boy with a watering-pot, by a hired man with a hose, +by a workman with a drill, or by any rain-storm that ever fell in +Westchester County. There must at some time or another have been a +stream there; and as streams do not flow uphill and bore pot-holes on +mountain-tops, there must have been a valley there. Some great cataclysm +took place. For that cataclysm nature must be held responsible mainly. +But what prompted nature to raise hob with Westchester County millions of +years ago, and to let it sleep like Rip Van Winkle ever since? Nature +isn't a freak. She is depicted as a woman, but in spite of that she is +not whimsical. She does not act upon impulses. There must have been some +cause for her behavior in turning valleys into hills, in transforming +huge cities into wastes of sand, and oyster-beds into shell quarries; and +it is my belief that man was the contributing cause. He tapped the earth +for natural gas; he bored in and he bored out, and he bored nature to +death, and then nature rose up and smote him and his cities and his +oyster-beds, and she'll do it again unless we go slow." + +"There is a great deal in what you say," said Mr. Whitechoker. + +"Very true," said Mrs. Pedagog. "But I wish he'd stop saying it. The last +three dozen cakes have got cold as ice while he was talking, and I can't +afford such reckless waste." + +"Nor we, Mrs. Pedagog," said the Idiot, with a pleasant smile; "for, as I +was saying to the Bibliomaniac this morning, your buckwheat cakes are, to +my mind, the very highest development of our modern civilization, and to +have even one of them wasted seems to me to be a crime against Nature +herself, for which a second, third, or fourth shaking up of this earth +would be an inadequate punishment." + +This remark so pleased Mrs. Pedagog that she ordered the cook to send up +a fresh lot of cakes; and the guests, after eating them, adjourned to +their various duties with light hearts, and digestions occupied with work +of great importance. + + + + +XI + + +"I wonder what would have happened if Columbus had not discovered +America?" said the Bibliomaniac, as the company prepared to partake of +the morning meal. + +"He would have gone home disappointed," said the Idiot, with a look of +surprise on his face, which seemed to indicate that in his opinion the +Bibliomaniac was very dull-witted not to have solved the problem for +himself. "He would have gone home disappointed, and we would now be +foreigners, like most other Americans. Mr. Pedagog would doubtless be +instructing the young scions of the aristocracy of Tipperary, Mr. +Whitechoker would be Archbishop of Canterbury, the Bibliomaniac would be +raising bulbs in Holland, and----" + +[Illustration: "THE BIBLIOMANIAC WOULD BE RAISING BULBS"] + +"And you would be wandering about with the other wild men of Borneo at +the present time," put in the School-Master. + +"No," said the Idiot. "Not quite. I should be dividing my time up between +Holland, France, Switzerland, and Spain." + +"You are an international sort of Idiot, eh?" queried the Lawyer, with a +chuckle at his own wit. + +"Say rather a cosmopolitan Idiot," said the Idiot. "Among my ancestors +I number individuals of various nations, though I suppose that if we go +back far enough we were all in the same boat as far as that is concerned. +One of my great-great-grandfathers was a Scotchman, one of them was a +Dutchman, another was a Spaniard, a fourth was a Frenchman. What the +others were I don't know. It's a nuisance looking up one's ancestors, +I think. They increase so as you go back into the past. Every man +has had two grandfathers, four great-grandfathers, eight +great-great-grandfathers, sixteen great-great-great-grandfathers, +thirty-two fathers raised to the fourth power of great-grandness, and +so on, increasing in number as you go further back, until it is hardly +possible for any one to throw a brick into the pages of history without +hitting somebody who is more or less responsible for his existence. I +dare say there is a streak of Julius Caesar in me, and I haven't a doubt +that if our friend Mr. Pedagog here were to take the trouble to +investigate, he would find that Caesar and Cassius and Brutus could be +numbered among his early progenitors--and now that I think of it, +I must say that in my estimation he is an unusually amiable man, +considering how diverse the nature of these men were. Think of it for +a minute. Here a man unites in himself Caesar and Cassius and Brutus, +two of whom killed the third, and then, having quarrelled together, +went out upon a battle-field and slaughtered themselves, after making +extemporaneous remarks, for which this miserable world gives Shakespeare +all the credit. It's worse than the case of a friend of mine, one of +whose grandfathers was French and the other German." + +"How did it affect him?" asked Mr. Whitechoker. + +"It made him distrust himself," said the Idiot, with a smile, "and for +that reason he never could get on in the world. When his Teutonic nature +suggested that he do something, his Gallic blood would rise up and spoil +everything, and _vice versa_. He was eternally quarrelling with himself. +He was a victim to internal disorder of the worst sort." + +"And what, pray, finally became of him?" asked the Clergyman. + +"He shot himself in a duel," returned the Idiot, with a wink at the +genial old gentleman who occasionally imbibed. "It was very sad." + +"I've known sadder things," said Mr. Pedagog, wearily. "Your elaborate +jokes, for instance. They are enough to make strong men weep." + +"You flatter me, Mr. Pedagog," said the Idiot. "I have never in all my +experience as a cracker of jests made a man laugh until he cried, but I +hope to some day. But, really, do you know I think Columbus is an +immensely overrated man. If you come down to it, what did he do? He went +out to sea in a ship and sailed for three months, and when he least +expected it ran slam-bang up against the Western Hemisphere. It was like +shooting at a barn door with a Gatling gun. He was bound to hit it sooner +or later." + +"You don't give him any credit for tenacity of purpose or good judgment, +then?" asked Mr. Brief. + +"Of course I do. Plenty of it. He stuck to his ship like a hero who +didn't know how to swim. His judgment was great. He had too much sense +to go back to Spain without any news of something, because he fully +understood that unless he had something to show for the trip, there would +have been a great laugh on Queen Isabella for selling her jewels to +provide for a ninety-day yacht cruise for him and a lot of common +sailors, which would never have done. So he kept on and on, and finally +some unknown lookout up in the bow discovered America. Then Columbus +went home and told everybody that if it hadn't been for his own eagle eye +emigration wouldn't have been invented, and world's fairs would have been +local institutions. Then they got up a parade in which the King and Queen +graciously took part, and Columbus became a great man. Meanwhile the +unknown lookout who did discover the land was knocking about the town and +thinking he was a very lucky fellow to get an extra glass of grog. It +wasn't anything more than the absolute justice of fate that caused the +new land to be named America and not Columbia. It really ought to have +been named after that fellow up in the bow." + +"But, my dear Idiot," put in the Bibliomaniac, "the scheme itself was +Columbus's own. He evolved the theory that the earth is round like a +ball." + +"To quote Mr. Pedagog--" began the Idiot. + +"You can't quote me in your own favor," snapped the School-Master. + +"Wait until I have finished," said the Idiot. "I was only going to quote +you by saying 'Tutt!' that's all; and so I repeat, in the words of Mr. +Pedagog, tutt, tutt! Evolved the theory? Why, man, how could he help +evolving the theory? There was the sun rising in the east every morning +and setting in the west every night. What else was there to believe? That +somebody put the sun out every night, and sneaked back east with it under +cover of darkness?" + +"But you forget that the wise men of the day laughed at his idea," said +Mr. Pedagog, surveying the Idiot after the fashion of a man who has dealt +an adversary a stinging blow. + +"That only proves what I have always said," replied the Idiot. "Wise men +can't find fun in anything but stern facts. Wise men always do laugh at +truth. Whenever I advance some new proposition, you sit up there next to +Mrs. Pedagog and indulge in tutt-tutterances of the most intolerant sort. +If you had been one of the wise men of Columbus's time there isn't any +doubt in my mind that when Columbus said the earth was round, you'd have +remarked tutt, tutt, in Spanish." There was silence for a minute, and +then the Idiot began again. "There's another point about this whole +business that makes me tired," he said. "It only goes to prove the +conceit of these Europeans. Here was a great continent inhabited by +countless people. A European comes over here and is said to be the +discoverer of America and is glorified. Statues of him are scattered +broad-cast all over the world. Pictures of him are printed in the +newspapers and magazines. A dozen different varieties of portraits of +him are printed on postage-stamps as big as circus posters--and all for +what? Because he discovered a land that millions of Indians had known +about for centuries. On the other hand, when Columbus goes back to Spain +several of the native Americans trust their precious lives to his old +tubs. One of these savages must have been the first American to discover +Europe. Where are the statues of the Indian who discovered Europe? Where +are the postage-stamps showing how he looked on the day when Europe first +struck his vision? Where is anybody spending a billion of dollars getting +up a world's fair in commemoration of Lo's discovery of Europe?" + +"He didn't know it was Europe," said the Bibliomaniac. + +"Columbus didn't know this was America," retorted the Idiot. "In fact, +Columbus didn't know anything. He didn't know any better than to write a +letter to Queen Isabella and mail it in a keg that never turned up. He +didn't even know how to steer his old boat into a real solid continent, +instead of getting ten days on the island. He was an awfully wise man. He +saw an island swarming with Indians, and said, 'Why, this must be India!' +And worst of all, if his pictures mean anything, he didn't even know +enough to choose his face and stick to it. Don't talk Columbus to me +unless you want to prove that luck is the greatest factor of success." + +[Illustration: "DIDN'T KNOW ENOUGH TO CHOOSE HIS OWN FACE"] + +"Ill-luck is sometimes a factor of success," said Mr. Pedagog. "You are a +success as an Idiot, which appears to me to be extremely unfortunate." + +"I don't know about that," said the Idiot. "I adapt myself to my company, +and of course--" + +"Then you are a school-master among school-masters, a lawyer among +lawyers, and so forth?" queried the Bibliomaniac. + +"What are you when your company is made up of widely diverse characters?" +asked Mr. Brief before the Idiot had a chance to reply to the +Bibliomaniac's question. + +"I try to be a widely diverse character myself." + +"And, trying to sit on many stools, fall and become just an Idiot," said +Mr. Pedagog. + +"That's according to the way you look at it. I put my company to the test +in the crucible of my mind. I analyze the characters of all about me, and +whatever quality predominates in the precipitate, that I become. Thus in +the presence of my employer and his office-boy I become a mixture of +both--something of the employer, something of an office-boy. I run +errands for my employer, and boss the office-boy. With you gentlemen I +go through the same process. The Bibliomaniac, the School-Master, Mr. +Brief, and the rest of you have been cast into the crucible, and I have +tried to approximate the result." + +"And are an Idiot," said the School-Master. + +"It is your own name for me, gentlemen," returned the Idiot. "I presume +you have recognized your composite self, and have chosen the title +accordingly." + + * * * * * + +"You were a little hard on me this morning, weren't you?" asked the +genial old gentleman who occasionally imbibed, that evening, when he and +the Idiot were discussing the morning's chat. "I didn't like to say +anything about it, but I don't think you ought to have thrown me into the +crucible with the rest." + +"I wish you had spoken," said the Idiot, warmly. "It would have given me +a chance to say that the grain of sense that once or twice a year leavens +the lump of my idiocy is directly due to the ingredient furnished by +yourself. Here's to you, old man. If you and I lived alone together, what +a wise man I should be!" + +And then the genial old gentleman went to the cupboard and got out a +bottle of port-wine that he had been preserving in cobwebs for ten years. +This he opened, and as he did so he said, "I've been keeping this for +years, my boy. It was dedicated in my youth to the thirst of the first +man who truly appreciated me. Take it all." + +"I'll divide with you," returned the Idiot, with a smile. "For really, +old fellow, I think you--ah--I think you appreciate yourself as much as +I do." + + + + +XII + + +"I wonder what it costs to run a flat?" said the Idiot, stirring his +coffee with the salt-spoon--a proceeding which seemed to indicate that he +was thinking of something else. + +"Don't you keep an expense account?" asked the Bibliomaniac, slyly. + +"Hee-hee!" laughed Mrs. Pedagog. + +"First-rate joke," said the Idiot, with a smile. "But really, now, +I should like to know for how little an apartment could be run. I am +interested." + +Mrs. Pedagog stopped laughing at once. The Idiot's words were ominous. +She did not always like his views, but she did like his money, and she +was not at all anxious to lose him as a boarder. + +"It's very expensive," she said, firmly. "I shouldn't ever advise any +one to undertake living in a flat. Rents are high. Butcher bills are +enormous, because the butchers have to pay commissions, not only to the +cook, so that she'll use twice as much lard as she can, and give away +three or four times as much to the poor as she ought, but janitors have +to be seen to, and elevator-boys, and all that. Groceries come high for +the same reason. Oh, no! Flat life isn't the life for anybody, I say. +Give me a good, first-class boarding-house. Am I not right, John?" + +[Illustration: "JANITORS HAVE TO BE SEEN TO"] + +"Yes, indeed," said Mr. Pedagog. "Every time. I lived in a flat once, +and it was an awful nuisance. Above me lived a dancing-master who gave +lessons at every hour of the day in the room directly over my study, +so that I was always being disturbed at my work, while below me was a +music-teacher who was practising all night, so that I could hardly sleep. +Worst of all, on the same floor with me was a miserable person of +convivial tendencies, who always mistook my door for his when he came +home after midnight, and who gave some quite estimable people two +floors below to believe that it was I, and not he, who sang comic songs +between three and four o'clock in the morning. There has not been too +much love lost between the Idiot and myself, but I cannot be so +vindictive as to recommend him to live in a flat." + +"I can bear testimony to the same effect," put in Mr. Brief, who was two +weeks in arrears, and anxious to conciliate his landlady. + +"Testimony to the effect that Mr. Pedagog sang comic songs in the early +morning?" said the Idiot. "Nonsense! I don't believe it. I have lived in +this house for two years with Mr. Pedagog, and I've never heard him raise +his voice in song yet." + +"I didn't mean anything of the sort," retorted Mr. Brief. "You know I +didn't." + +"Don't apologize to me," said the Idiot. "Apologize to Mr. Pedagog. He is +the man you have wronged." + +"What did he say?" put in Mr. Pedagog, with a stern look at Mr. Brief. "I +didn't hear what he said." + +"I didn't say anything," said the lawyer, "except that I could bear +testimony to the effect that your experience with flat life was similar +to mine. This young person, with his customary nerve, tries to make it +appear that I said you sang comic songs in the early morning." + +"I try to do nothing of the sort," said the Idiot. "I simply expressed my +belief that in spite of what you said Mr. Pedagog was innocent, and I do +so because my experience with him has taught me that he is not the kind +of man who would do that sort of thing. He has neither time, voice, nor +inclination. He has an ear--two of them, in fact--and an impressionable +mind, but--" + +"Oh, tutt!" interrupted the School-Master. "When I need a defender, you +may spare yourself the trouble of flying to my rescue." + +"I know I _may_," said the Idiot, "but with me it's a question of can and +can't. I'm willing to attack you personally, but while I live no other +shall do so. Wherefore I tell Mr. Brief plainly, and to his face, that if +he says you ever sang a comic song he says what is not so. You might hum +one, but sing it--never!" + +"We were talking of flats, I believe," said Mr. Whitechoker. + +"Yes," said the Idiot, "and these persons have changed it from flat talk +to sharp talk." + +"Well, anyhow," put in Mr. Brief, "I lived in a flat once, and it was +anything but pleasant. I lost a case once for the simple and only reason +that I lived in a flat. It was a case that required a great deal of +strategy on my part, and I invited my client to my home to unfold my plan +of action. I got interested in the scheme as I unfolded it, and spoke in +my usual impassioned manner, as though addressing a jury, and, would you +believe it, the opposing counsel happened to be visiting a friend on the +next floor, and my eloquence floated up through the air-shaft, and gave +our whole plan of action away. We were routed on the point we had +supposed would pierce the enemy's armor and lay him at our feet, for the +wholly simple reason that that abominable air-shaft had made my strategic +move a matter of public knowledge." + +[Illustration: "MY ELOQUENCE FLOATED UP THE AIR-SHAFT"] + +"That's a good idea for a play," said the Idiot. "A roaring farce could +be built up on that basis. Villain and accomplice on one floor, innocent +victim on floor above. Plot floats up air-shaft. Innocent victim +overhears; villain and accomplice say 'ha ha' for three acts and take +a back seat in the fourth, with a grand transformation showing the +conspirators in the county jail as a finale. Write it up with lots of +live-stock wandering in and out, bring in janitors and elevator-boys +and butchers, show up some of the humors of flat life, if there be any +such, call it _A Hole in the Flat_, and put it on the stage. Nine hundred +nights is the very shortest run it could have, which at fifty dollars a +night for the author is $45,000 in good hard dollars. Mr. Poet, the idea +is yours for a fiver. Say the word." + +"Thanks," said the Poet, with a smile; "I'm not a dramatist." + +"Then I'll have to do it myself," said the Idiot. "And if I do, good-bye +Shakespeare." + +"That's so," said Mr. Pedagog. "Nothing could more effectually ruin the +dramatic art than to have you write a play. People, seeing your work, +would say, here, this will never do. The stage must be discouraged at all +costs. A hypocrite throws the ministry into disgrace, an ignoramus brings +shame upon education, and an unpopular lawyer gives the bar a bad name. I +think you are just the man to ruin Shakespeare." + +"Then I'll give up my ambition to become a playwright and stick to +idiocy," said the Idiot. "But to come back to flats. Your feeling in +regard to them is entirely different from that of a friend of mine, who +has lived in one for ten years. He thinks flat life is ideal. His +children can't fall down-stairs, because there aren't any stairs to fall +down. His roof never leaks, because he hasn't any roof to leak; and when +he and his family want to go off anywhere, all he has to do is to lock +his front door and go. Burglars never climb into his front window, +because they are all eight flights up. Damp cellars don't trouble him, +because they are too far down to do him any injury, even if they +overflow. The cares of house-keeping are reduced to a minimum. His cook +doesn't spend all her time in the front area flirting with the postman, +because there isn't any front area to his flat; and in a social way his +wife is most delightfully situated, because most of her friends live in +the same building, and instead of having to hire a carriage to go calling +in, all she has to do is to take the elevator and go from one floor to +another. If he pines for a change of scene, he is high enough up in the +air to get it by looking out of his windows, over the tops of other +buildings, into the green fields to the north, or looking westward into +the State of New Jersey. Instead of taking a drive through the Park, or +a walk, all he and his wife need to do is to take a telescope and follow +some little sylvan path with their eyes. Then, as for expense, he finds +that he saves money by means of a co-operative scheme. For instance, if +he wants shad for dinner, and he and his wife cannot eat a whole one, he +goes shares on the shad and its cost with his neighbors above and below." + +"Yes, and his neighbors above and below borrow tea and eggs and butter +and ice and other things whenever they run short, so that in that way he +loses all he saves," said Mr. Pedagog, resolved not to give in. + +"He does if he isn't smart," said the Idiot. "I thought of that myself, +and asked him about it, and he told me that he kept account of all that, +and always made it a point after some neighbor had borrowed two pounds +of butter from him to send in before the week was over and borrow three +pounds of butter from the neighbor. So far his books show that he is +sixteen pounds of butter, seven pounds of tea, one bottle of vanilla +extract, and a ton of ice ahead of the whole house. He is six eggs and +a box of matches behind in his egg and match account, but under the +circumstances I think he can afford it." + +"But," said Mrs. Pedagog, anxious to know the worst, "why--er--why are +you so interested?" + +"Well," said the Idiot, slowly, "I--er--I am contemplating a change, Mrs. +Pedagog--a change that would fill me--I say it sincerely, too--with +regret if--" The Idiot paused a minute, and his eye swept fondly about +the table. His voice was getting a little husky too, Mr. Whitechoker +noticed. "It would fill me with regret, I say, if it were not that +in taking up house-keeping I am--I am to have the assistance of a +better-half." + +"What??" cried the Bibliomaniac. "You? You are going to be--to be +married?" + +"Why not?" said the Idiot. "Imitation is the sincerest flattery. Mr. +Pedagog marries, and I am going to flatter him as sincerely as I can by +following in his footsteps." + +"May I--may we ask to whom?" asked Mrs. Pedagog, softly. + +"Certainly," said the Idiot. "To Mr. Barlow's daughter. Mr. Barlow is--or +was--my employer." + +"Was? Is he not now? Are you going out of business?" asked Mr. Pedagog. + +"No; but, you see, when I went to see Mr. Barlow in the matter, he told +me that he liked me very much, and he had no doubt I would make a good +husband for his daughter, but, after all, he added that I was nothing +but a confidential clerk on a small salary, and he thought his daughter +could do better." + +"She couldn't find a better fellow, Mr. Idiot," said Mrs. Pedagog, and +Mr. Pedagog rose to the occasion by nodding his entire acquiescence in +the statement. + +"Thank you very much," said the Idiot. "That was precisely what I told +Mr. Barlow, and I suggested a scheme to him by which his sole objection +could be got around." + +"You would start in business for yourself?" said Mr. Whitechoker. + +"In a sense, yes," said the Idiot. "Only the way I put it was that a good +confidential clerk would make a good partner for him, and he, after +thinking it over, thought I was right." + +"It certainly was a characteristically novel way out of the dilemma," +said Mr. Brief, with a smile. + +"I thought so myself, and so did he, so it was all arranged. On the 1st +of next month I enter the firm, and on the 15th I am--ah--to be married." + +The company warmly congratulated the Idiot upon his good-fortune, and he +shortly left the room, more overcome by their felicitations than he had +been by their arguments in the past. + +The few days left passed quickly by, and there came a breakfast at Mrs. +Pedagog's house that was a mixture of joy and sadness--joy for his +happiness, sadness that that table should know the Idiot no more. + +Among the wedding-gifts was a handsomely bound series of volumes, +including a cyclopaedia, a dictionary, and a little tome of poems, the +first output of the Poet. These came together, with a card inscribed, +"From your Friends of the Breakfast Table," of whom the Idiot said, when +Mrs. Idiot asked for information: + +"They, my dear, next to yourself and my parents, are the dearest friends +I ever had. We must have them up to breakfast some morning." + +"Breakfast?" queried Mrs. Idiot. + +"Yes, my dear," he replied, simply. "I should be afraid to meet them at +any other meal. I am always at my best at breakfast, and they--well, they +never are." + + +THE END + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +BY JOHN KENDRICK BANGS + + +Mr. Bonaparte of Corsica. + +Mr. Bangs is probably the generator of more hearty, healthful, purely +good-humored laughs than any other half-dozen men of our country +to-day.--_Interior_, Chicago. + + +The Idiot. + +"The Idiot," continues to be as amusing and as triumphantly bright in the +volume called after his name as in "Coffee and Repartee."--_Evangelist_, +N. Y. + + +The Water Ghost, and Others. + +The funny side of the ghost genre is brought out with originality, and, +considering the morbidity that surrounds the subject, it is a wholesome +thing to offer the public a series of tales letting in the sunlight of +laughter.--_Hartford Courant_. + + +Three Weeks in Politics. + +The funny story is most graphically told, and he who can read this +narrative of a campaigner's trials without laughing must be a stoic +indeed.--_Philadelphia Bulletin_. + + +Coffee and Repartee. + + +Is delightfully free from conventionality; is breezy, witty, and +possessed of an originality both genial and refreshing.--_Saturday +Evening Gazette_, Boston. + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE IDIOT*** + + +******* This file should be named 18881.txt or 18881.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/8/8/8/18881 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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