fortunes if they only
could see it. I almost wish I were an electrician and not an Idiot."

With which he left the room, and Mr. Pedagog whispered to Mrs. Pedagog
that while he considered the Idiot very much of an idiot, there was no
denying that at times he did get hold of ideas that were not wholly bad.

"That's true," said the good landlady. "I think if you had proposed to
me through a phonograph I should not have had to guess at what you meant
and lead you on to express yourself more clearly. I didn't want to say
yes until I was fully convinced that you meant what you didn't seem able
to say."

XI

Concerning Children

The Poet had been away for a week, and on his return to his accustomed
post at the breakfast-table seemed but a shadow of his former self. His
eyes were heavy and his long locks appeared straggly enough for a man of
far more extended reputation as a singer of melodious verse.

"To judge from your appearance, Mr. Poet," said the Idiot, after
welcoming his friend, "you've had a lively vacation. You certainly do
not look as if you had devoted much of it to sleep."

"I haven't," said the Poet, wearily, "I haven't averaged more than two
hours of sleep daily since I went away."

"I thought you told me you were going off into the country for a rest?"
observed the Idiot.

"I did--and this is what comes of it," returned the Poet. "I went to
visit my sister up in Saratoga County. She has seven children."

"Aha!" smiled the Idiot. "That's it, is it--well, I can sympathize with
you. I've had experience with youngsters myself. I love 'em, but I like
to take 'em on the instalment plan--very little at a time. I have a
small cousin with a capacity for play and impudence that can't be
equalled. His mother wrote me once and asked if I thought Hagenbeck, the
wild-animal tamer, could be induced to take him in hand."

"That's the kind," put in the Poet, his face lighting up a little upon
discovering that there was some one at least at the board who could
sympathize with him. "My sister's seven are all of the wild-animal
variety. I'd rather fall in with seven tigers than put in another week
with my beloved nephews and nieces."

"Did they play Alp with you?" the Idiot asked, with a grin.

"Alp?" said the Poet. "No--not that I know of. They may have, however. I
was hardly conscious of what they were doing the last two days of my
stay there. They simply overpowered me, and I gave in and became a toy
f