FullReads

“The early bird does get the bait,” replied the Idiot. “But he does not catch the fish, and I’ll offer the board another wager that the Belgian block merchant is wider awake at 8 A.M., when he first opens his eyes, than his suburban brother who gets up at five is all day. It’s the extent to which the eyes are opened that counts, and as for your statement that the fact that prosperity and noisy streets go hand in hand is true only because it happens to be so, that is an argument which may be applied to any truth in existence. I am because I happen to be, not because I am. You are what you are because you are, because if you were not, you would not be what you are.”

“Your logic is delightful,” said the School-master, scornfully.

“I strive to please,” replied the Idiot. “But I do agree with the Bibliomaniac that our streets are far from perfection,” he added. “In my opinion they should be laid in strata. On the ground-floor should be the sewers and telegraph pipes; above this should be the water-mains, then a layer for trucks, then a broad stratum for carriages, above which should be a promenade for pedestrians. The promenade for pedestrians should be divided into four sections–one for persons of leisure, one for those in a hurry, one for peddlers, and one for beggars.”

“Highly original,” said the Bibliomaniac.

“And so cheap,” added the School-master.

“In no part of the world,” said the Idiot, in response to the last comment, “do we get something for nothing. Of course this scheme would be costly, but it would increase prosperity–“

“Ha! ha!” laughed the School-master, satirically.

“Laugh away, but you cannot gainsay my point. Our prosperity would increase, for we should not be always excavating to get at our pipes; our surface cars with a clear track would gain for us rapid transit, our truck-drivers would not be subjected to the temptations of stopping by the way-side to overturn a coupe, or to run down a pedestrian; our fine equipages would in consequence need fewer repairs; and as for the pedestrians, the beggars, if relegated to themselves, would be forced out of business as would also the street-peddlers. The men in a hurry would not be delayed by loungers, beggars, and peddlers, and the loungers would derive inestimable benefit from the arrangement in the saving of wear and tear on their clothes and minds by contact with the busy world.”

“It would be delightful,” acceded the School-master, “particularly on Sundays, when they were all loungers.”

“Yes,” replied the Idiot. “It would be delightful then, especially in summer, when covered with an awning to shield promenaders from the sun.”

Mr. Pedagog sighed, and the Bibliomaniac, wearily declining a second cup of coffee, left the table with the Doctor, earnestly discussing with that worthy gentleman the causes of weakmindedness.

VIII

“There’s a friend of mine up near Riverdale,” said the Idiot, as he unfolded his napkin and let his bill flutter from it to the floor, “who’s tried to make a name for himself in literature.”

“What’s his name?” asked the Bibliomaniac, interested at once.

“That’s just the trouble. He hasn’t made it yet,” replied the Idiot. “He hasn’t succeeded in his courtship of the Muse, and beyond himself and a few friends his name is utterly unknown.”

“What work has he tried?” queried the School-master, pouring unadmonished two portions of skimmed milk over his oatmeal.

“A little of everything. First he wrote a novel. It had an immense circulation, and he only lost $300 on it. All of his friends took a copy–I’ve got one that he gave me–and I believe two hundred newspapers were fortunate enough to secure the book for review. His father bought two, and tried to obtain the balance of the edition, but didn’t have enough money. That was gratifying, but gratification is more apt to deplete than to strengthen a bank account.”