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“So do I,” said the Idiot; “and if Mrs. Smithers will pardon me for expressing a preference for any especial part of the piece de resistance, I will state to her that if, in helping me, she will give me two drumsticks, a pair of second joints, and plenty of the white meat, I shall be very happy.”

“You ought to have said so yesterday,” said the School-master, with a surprisingly genial laugh. “Then Mrs. Smithers could have prepared an individual chicken for you.”

“That would be too much,” returned the Idiot, “and I should really hesitate to eat too much spring chicken. I never did it in my life, and don’t know what the effect would be. Would it be harmful, Doctor?”

“I really do not know how it would be,” answered the Doctor. “In all my wide experience I have never found a case of the kind.”

“It’s very rarely that one gets too much spring chicken,” said Mr. Whitechoker. “I haven’t had any experience with patients, as my friend the Doctor has; but I have lived in many boarding-houses, and I have never yet known of any one even getting enough.”

“Well, perhaps we shall have all we want this morning,” said Mrs. Smithers. “I hope so, at any rate, for I wish this day to be a memorable one in our house. Mr. Pedagog has something to tell you. John, will you announce it now?”

“Did you hear that?” whispered the Idiot. “She called him ‘John.'”

“Yes,” said the genial old gentleman. “I didn’t know Pedagog had a first name before.”

“Certainly, my dear–that is, my very dear Mrs. Smithers,” stammered the School-master, getting red in the face. “The fact is, gentlemen–ahem!–I–er–we–er–that is, of course–er–Mrs. Smithers has er–ahem!–Mrs. Smithers has asked me to be her–I–er–I should say I have asked Mrs. Smithers to be my husb–my wife, and–er–she–“

“Hoorah!” cried the Idiot, jumping up from the table and grasping Mr. Pedagog by the hand. “Hoorah! You’ve got in ahead of us, old man, but we are just as glad when we think of your good-fortune. Your gain may be our loss–but what of that where the happiness of our dear landlady is at stake?”

Mrs. Smithers glanced coyly at the Idiot and smiled.

“Thank you,” said the School-master.

“You are welcome,” said the Idiot. “Mrs. Smithers, you will also permit me to felicitate you upon this happy event. I, who have so often differed with Mr. Pedagog upon matters of human knowledge, am forced to admit that upon this occasion he has shown such eminently good sense that you are fortunate, indeed, to have won him.”

“Again I thank you,” said the School-master. “You are a very sensible person yourself, my dear Idiot; perhaps my failure to appreciate you at times in the past has been due to your brilliant qualities, which have so dazzled me that I have been unable to see you as you really are.”

“Here are the chickens,” said Mrs. Smithers.

“Ah!” ejaculated the Idiot. “What lucky fellows we are, to be sure! I hope, Mrs. Smithers, now that Mr. Pedagog has cut us all out, you will at least be a sister to the rest of us, and let us live at home.”

“There is to be no change,” said Mrs. Smithers–“at least, I hope not, except that Mr. Pedagog will take a more active part in the management of our home.”

“I don’t envy him that,” said the Idiot. “We shall be severe critics, and it will be hard work for him to manage affairs better than you did, Mrs. Smithers.”

“Mary, get me a larger cup for the Idiot’s coffee,” said Mrs. Smithers.

“Let’s all retire from business,” suggested the Idiot, after the other guests had expressed their satisfaction with the turn affairs had taken. “Let’s retire from business, and change the Smithers Home for Boarders into an Educational Institution.”

“For what purpose?” queried the Bibliomaniac.

“Everything is so lovely now,” explained the Idiot, “that I feel as though I never wanted to leave the house again, even to win a fortune. If we turn it into a college and instruct youth, we need never go outside the front door excepting for pleasure.”