Coffee and Repartee Page 12

  XI

  "Do you believe, Mr. Whitechoker," said the Idiot, taking his place atthe table, and holding his plate up to the light, apparently to seewhether or not it was immaculate, whereat the landlady sniffedcontemptuously--"do you believe that the love of money is the root ofall evil?"

  "I have always been of that impression," returned Mr. Whitechoker,pleasantly. "In fact, I am sure of it," he added. "There is no evilthing in this world, sir, that cannot be traced back to a point wheregreed is found to be its main-spring and the source of its strength."

  "Then how do you reconcile this with the scriptural story of theforbidden fruit? Do you think the apples referred to were figures ofspeech, the true import of which was that Adam and Eve had their eyes onthe original surplus?"

  "Well, of course, there you begin to--ah--you seem to me to be goingback to the--er--the--ah--"

  "Original root of all evil," prompted the Idiot, calmly.

  "Precisely," returned Mr. Whitechoker, with a sigh of relief. "Mrs.Smithers, I think I'll have a dash of hot-water in my coffee thismorning." Then, with a nervous glance towards the Idiot, he added,addressing the Bibliomaniac, "I think it looks like rain."

  "Referring to the coffee, Mr. Whitechoker?" queried the Idiot, notdisposed to let go of his victim quite so easily.

  "Ah--I don't quite follow you," replied the Minister, with someannoyance.

  "You said something looked like rain, and I asked you if the thing youreferred to was the coffee, for I was disposed to agree with you," saidthe Idiot.

  "I am sure," put in Mrs. Smithers, "that a gentleman of Mr.Whitechoker's refinement would not make any such insinuation, sir. He isnot the man to quarrel with what is set before him."

  "HOLDING HIS PLATE UP TO THE LIGHT"]

  "I ask your pardon, madam," returned the Idiot, politely. "I hope that Iam not the man to quarrel with my food, either. Indeed, I make it arule to avoid unpleasantness of all sorts, particularly with the weak,under which category we find your coffee. I simply wish to know to whatMr. Whitechoker refers when he says 'it looks like rain.'"

  "I mean, of course," said the Minister, with as much calmness as hecould command--and that was not much--"I mean the day. The day looks asif it might be rainy."

  "Any one with a modicum of brain knows what you meant, Mr. Whitechoker,"volunteered the School-master.

  "Certainly," observed the Idiot, scraping the butter from his toast;"but to those who have more than a modicum of brains my reverendfriend's remark was not entirely clear. If I am talking of cotton, and agentleman chooses to state that it looks like snow, I know exactly whathe means. He doesn't mean that the day looks like snow, however; herefers to the cotton. Mr. Whitechoker, talking about coffee, chooses tostate that it looks like rain, which it undoubtedly does. I, realizingthat, as Mrs. Smithers says, it is not the gentleman's habit to attacktoo violently the food which is set before him, manifest some surprise,and, giving the gentleman the benefit of the doubt, afford him anopportunity to set himself right."

  "Change the subject," said the Bibliomaniac, curtly.

  "With pleasure," answered the Idiot, filling his glass with cream."We'll change the subject, or the object, or anything you choose. We'llhave another breakfast, or another variety of biscuits _frappe_--anything,in short, to keep peace at the table. Tell me, Mr. Pedagog," he added,"is the use of the word 'it,' in the sentence 'it looks like rain,'perfectly correct?"

  "I don't know why it is not," returned the School-master, uneasily. Hewas not at all desirous of parleying with the Idiot.

  "And is it correct to suppose that 'it' refers to the day--is the daysupposed to look like rain?--or do we simply use 'it' to express acondition which confronts us?"

  "It refers to the latter, of course."

  "Then the full text of Mr. Whitechoker's remark is, I suppose, that 'therainy condition of the atmosphere which confronts us looks like rain?'"

  "Oh, I suppose so," sighed the School-master, wearily.

  "Rather an unnecessary sort of statement that!" continued the Idiot."It's something like asserting that a man looks like himself, or, as inthe case of a child's primer--

  "'See the cat?'

  "'Yes, I see the cat.'

  "'What is the cat?'

  "'The cat is a cat. Scat cat!'"

  At this even Mrs. Smithers smiled.

  "I don't agree with Mr. Pedagog," put in the Bibliomaniac, after apause.

  Here the School-master shook his head warningly at the Bibliomaniac, asif to indicate that he was not in good form.

  "So I observe," remarked the Idiot. "You have upset him completely. Seehow Mr. Pedagog trembles?" he added, addressing the genial gentleman whooccasionally imbibed.

  "'I BELIEVE YOU'D BLOW OUT THE GAS IN YOUR BED-ROOM'"]

  "I don't mean that way," sneered the Bibliomaniac, bound to set Mr.Whitechoker straight. "I mean that the word 'it,' as employed in thatsentence, stands for day. The day looks like rain."

  "Did you ever see a day?" queried the Idiot.

  "Certainly I have," returned the Bibliomaniac.

  "What does it look like?" was the calmly put question.

  The Bibliomaniac's impatience was here almost too great for safety, andthe manner in which his face colored aroused considerable interest inthe breast of the Doctor, who was a good deal of a specialist inapoplexy.

  "Was it a whole day you saw, or only a half-day?" persisted the Idiot.

  "You may think you are very funny," retorted the Bibliomaniac. "I thinkyou are--"

  "Now don't get angry," returned the Idiot. "There are two or threethings I do not know, and I'm anxious to learn. I'd like to know how aday looks to one to whom it is a visible object. If it is visible, is ittangible? and, if so, how does it feel?"

  "The visible is always tangible," asserted the School-master,recklessly.

  "How about a red-hot stove, or manifest indignation, or a view from amountain-top, or, as in the case of the young man in the novel who'suddenly waked,' and, 'looking anxiously about him, saw no one?'"returned the Idiot, imperturbably.

  "Tut!" ejaculated the Bibliomaniac. "If I had brains like yours, I'dblow them out."

  "Yes, I think you would," observed the Idiot, folding up his napkin."You're just the man to do a thing like that. I believe you'd blow outthe gas in your bedroom if there wasn't a sign over it requesting younot to." And filling his match-box from the landlady's mantel supply,the Idiot hurried from the room, and soon after left the house.