FullReads

D.–Done!

F.–You have won the wager.

FOOL.–I once read the report of an actual conversation upon a scientific subject between a fool and a physician.

DOCTOR.–Indeed! That sort of conversation commonly takes place between fools only.

F.–The reporter had chosen to confound orthography: he spelt fool “phool,” and physician “fysician.” What the fool said was, therefore, preceded by “PH;” the remarks of the physician were indicated by the letter “F.”

D.–This must have been very confusing.

F.–It was. But no one discovered that any liberties had been taken with orthography.

D.–You tumour!

* * * * *

FOOL.–Suppose you had amongst your menials an ailing oyster?

DOCTOR.–Oysters do not ail.

F.–I have heard that the pearl is the result of a disease.

D.–Whether a functional derangement producing a valuable gem can be properly termed, or treated as, a disease, is open to honest doubt.

F.–Then in the case supposed you would not favour excision of the abnormal part?

D.–Yes; I would remove the oyster.

F.–But if the pearl were growing very rapidly this operation would not be immediately advisable.

D.–That would depend upon the symptomatic diagnosis.

F.–Beast! Give me air!

* * * * *

DOCTOR.–I have been thinking–

FOOL.–(Liar!)

D.–That you “come out” rather well for a fool.

Can it be that I have been entertaining an angel unawares?

F.–Dismiss the apprehension: I am as great a fool as yourself. But there is a way by which in future you may resolve a similar doubt.

D.–Explain.

F.–Speak to your guest of symptomatic diagnosis. If he is an angel, he will not resent it.

* * * * *

III.

SOLDIER (reading from “Napier”).–“Who would not rather be buried by an army upon the field of battle than by a sexton in a church-yard!”

FOOL.–I give it up.

S.–I am not aware that any one has asked you for an opinion.

F.–I am not aware that I have given one: there is a happiness yet in store for you.

S.–I will revel in anticipation.

F.–You must revel somehow; without revelry there would be no soldiering.

S.–Idiot.

F.–I beg your pardon: I had thought your profession had at least taught you to call people by their proper titles. In the service of mankind I hold the rank of Fool.

S.–What, ho! without there! Let the trumpets sound!

F.–I beg you will not.

S.–True; you beg: I will not.

F.–But why rob when stealing is more honourable?

S.–Consider the competition.

* * * * *

FOOL.–Sir Cut-throat, how many orphans have you made to-day?

SOLDIER.–The devil an orphan! Have you a family?

F.–Put up your iron; I am the last of my race.

S.–How? No more fools?

F.–Not one, so help me! They have all gone to the wars.

S.–And why, pray, have you not enlisted?

F.–I should be no fool if I knew.

* * * * *

FOOL.–You are somewhat indebted to me.

SOLDIER.–I do not acknowledge your claim. Let us submit the matter to arbitration.

F.–The only arbiter whose decision you respect is on your own side.

S.–You allude to my sword, the most impartial of weapons: it cuts both ways.

F.–And each way is peculiarly objectionable to your opponent.

S.–But for what am I indebted to you?

F.–For existence: the prevalence of me has made you possible.

S.–The benefit is not conspicuous; were it not for your quarrels, I should enjoy a quantity of elegant leisure.

F.–As a clodhopper.

S.–I should at least hop my clods in a humble and Christian spirit; and if some other fellow did did not so hop his–! I say no more.