herefore, with the exception of
Dreamaline, which I have not yet developed to my satisfaction, I shall
do no more inventing. What is the use? Even you, gentlemen, here have
tacitly declined to accept my plan for the elimination of irritation on
Waffle Days, a plan at once simple, picturesque, and efficacious. With
such discouragement at home, what hope have I for better fortune
abroad?"

"It is dreadful to be an unappreciated genius!" said the Bibliomaniac,
gruffly. "It's better to be a plain lunatic. A plain lunatic is at least
free from the consciousness of failure."

"Nevertheless, I'd rather be myself than any one else at this board,"
rejoined the Idiot. "Unappreciated though I be, I am at least happy.
Consciousness of failure need not necessarily destroy one's happiness.
If I do the best I can with the tools I have I needn't weep because I
fail, and with his consciousness of failure the unappreciated genius
always has the consolation of knowing that it is not he but the world
that is wrong. If I am a philanthropist and offer a thousand dollars to
a charity, and the charity declines to accept it because I happen to
have made it out of my interest in 'A Widows' and Orphans' Speculation
Company, Large Losses a Surety,' it is the charity that loses, not I. So
with my plans. Social expansion is not taken up by society--who dies, I
or society? Capitalists decline to consider my proposition for a General
Poetry Trust and Supply Company. Who loses a fine chance, I or the
capitalists? I may be a little discouraged for the time being, but what
of that? Invention isn't the only occupation in the world for me. I can
give up Philanthropy and take up Misanthropy in a moment if I want
to--and with Dreamaline I can rule the world."

"Ah--just what is this Dreamaline?" asked Mr. Whitechoker, interested.

"That, sir, is the question which I am now trying to answer for myself,"
returned the Idiot. "If I could answer it, as I have said, I could rule
the world--everybody could rule the world; that is to say, his own
world. It is based on an old idea which has been found by some to be
practicable, but it has never been developed to the point which I hope
to attain."

"Wake me up when he gets to the point, will you, kindly?" whispered the
Doctor to the Bibliomaniac.

"If you sleep until then you'll never wake," said the Bibliomaniac. "To
my mind the Idiot never comes to a point."

"You are a little too mysterious for me," observe