The Idiot Read online

  II

  "Let's write a book," suggested the Idiot, as he took his place at theboard and unfolded his napkin.

  "What about?" asked the Doctor, with a smile at the idea of the Idiot'sthinking 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 agenius. I really never heard of such a variegated Idiot as you are in allmy experience, and that means a great deal, I can tell you, for in thecourse of my career as an instructor of youth I have encountered manyidiots."

  "Were they idiots before or after having drank at the fount of yourlearning?" 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 aredistinctly 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 thisgathering on the point you make regarding the table. _Is_ this yourtable? Is it not rather the table of those who sit about it to regaletheir inner man with the good things under which I remember once or twicein 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 thatsome of us pay for it. I am prepared to admit that if Mr. Brief, forinstance, is delinquent in his weekly payments, his interest in the tablereverts to you until he shall have liquidated, and he is not privilegedto say a word that you do not approve of; but I, for instance, who sinceJanuary 1st have been compelled to pay in advance, am at least solelessee, and for the time being proprietor of the portion for which I havepaid. You have sold it to me. I have entered into possession, and whilein possession, as a matter of right and not on sufferance, haven't I theprivilege 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 Ishall, if I have to hire a gymnasium for the purpose. But to return toMrs. Pedagog's remark. It brings up another question that has more orless interested me. Because Mrs. Smithers married Mr. Pedagog, do we loseall of our rights in Mr. Pedagog? Before the happy event that reduced ournumber from ten to nine--"

  "We are still ten, are we not?" asked Mr. Whitechoker, counting theguests.

  "Not if Mr. Pedagog and the late Mrs. Smithers have become one," said theIdiot. "But, as I was saying, before the happy event that reduced ournumber from ten to nine we were permitted to address our friend Pedagogin any terms we saw fit, and whenever he became sufficiently interestedto indulge in repartee we were privileged to return it. Have werelinquished 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 maychoose to say to me or of me. Your assaults are to me as water is to aduck's back."

  "I am sorry," said the Idiot. "I hate family disagreements, and here wehave Mrs. Pedagog taking one side and Mr. Pedagog the other. But whateverdecision may ultimately be reached, of one thing Mrs. Pedagog must beassured. I on principle side against Mr. Pedagog, and if it be the wishof my good landlady that I shall refrain from playing intellectualbattledore and shuttlecock with her husband, whom we all revere, Icertainly shall refrain. Hereafter if I indulge in anything that in anysense resembles repartee with our landlord, I wish it distinctlyunderstood that an apology goes with it."

  "That's all right, my boy," said the School-Master. "You mean well. Youare a little new, that's all, and we all understand you."

  "I don't understand him," growled the Doctor, still smarting under therecollection of former breakfast-table discomfitures. "I wish we couldget him translated."

  "If you prescribed for me once or twice I think it likely I should betranslated in short order," retorted the Idiot. "I wonder how I'd gotranslated into French?"

  "You couldn't be expressed in French," put in the Lawyer. "It would takesome 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 youalways do me such great injustice. You lawyers always have to be doingsomething, even if it is only holding down a chair so that it won't blowout of your office window. If you haven't any justice to mete out, youtake another tack and dispense injustice with lavish hand. However, I'llforgive 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. "Ifthere's any business in the world that I should hate to have known asmine it is that of libel. I think, however, your definition is notdefinite. What I wanted to know was just how far I could go with remarksat this table and be safe from prosecution."

  "Nobody would ever prosecute you, for two reasons," said the lawyer. "Ina civil action for money damages a verdict against you for ten centswouldn't be worth a rap, because the chances are you couldn't pay. In acriminal action your conviction would be a bad thing, because you wouldbe 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 ofidiot that the intelligent jurors of to-day admire, and they'd acquit youof any crime. A man has a right to a trial at the hands of a jury of hispeers. I don't think even in a jury-box twelve idiots equal to yourselfcould be found, so don't worry."

  "Thanks. Have a cigarette?" said the Idiot, tossing one over to theLawyer. "It's all I have. If I had a half-dollar I should pay you foryour opinion; but since I haven't, I offer you my all. The temperature ofmy coffee seems to have fallen, Mrs. Pedagog. Will you kindly let me haveanother 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. "Iasked for another cup, not for more coffee."

  "CERTAINLY. I ASKED FOR ANOTHER CUP"]

  Mrs. Pedagog smiled quietly at her own joke. At hair-splitting she couldgive 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 thinksme out of my mind."

  "You are not out of your mind," said the Bibliomaniac. "It would be agood thing if you were. In replenishing your mental supply you might havethe luck to get better quality."

  "I probably should have the luck," said the Idiot. "I have had a greatstore of it in my life. From the very start I have had luck. When I thinkthat I was born myself, and not you, I feel as if I had had more than myshare of good-fortune--more luck than the law allows. How much luck doesthe law allow, Mr. Brief?"

  "Bosh!" said Mr. Brief, with a scornful wave of his hand, as if hewere ridding himself of a troublesome gnat. "Don't bother me with suchmind-withering questions."

  "All right," said the Idiot. "I'll ask you an easier one. Why does notthe world recognize matrimony?"

  Mr. Whitechoker started. Here, indeed, was a novel proposition.

  "I--I--must confess," said he, "that of all the idiotic questionsI--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 theart, 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 goodproprietors, 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 theBibliomaniac. He was best man, but not the better man, by a simpleprocess 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. Pedagogto 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 theticket-taker at the door, says they are not--or implies that they arenot, by demanding tickets for two. They attempt to travel out to NiagaraFalls. The railroad people charge them two fares; the hackman chargesthem two fares; the hotel bills are made out for two people. It is thesame wherever they go in the world, and I regret to say that even in ourown home there is a disposition to regard them as two. When I spoke ofthere being nine persons here instead of ten, Mr. Whitechoker himselfdisputed my point--and yet it was not so much his fault as the fault ofMr. and Mrs. Pedagog themselves. Mrs. Pedagog seems to cast doubt uponthe unity by providing two separate chairs for the two halves that makeup the charming entirety. Two cups are provided for their coffee. Twoforks, two knives, two spoons, two portions of all the delicacies of theseason which are lavished upon us out of season--generally after it--fallto their lot. They do not object to being called a happy _couple_, whenthey should be known as a happy single. Now what I want to know is whythe world does not accept the shrinkage which has been pronounced validby the church and is recognized by the individual? Can any one here tellme that?"

  "DEMANDS TICKETS FOR TWO"]

  No one could, apparently. At least no one endeavored to. The Idiot lookedinquiringly at all, and then, receiving no reply to his question, he rosefrom the table.

  "I think," he said, as he started to leave the room--"I think we ought towrite that book. If we made it up of the things you people don't know, itwould be one of the greatest books of the century. At any rate, it wouldbe great enough in bulk to fill the biggest library in America."