the nail on the head," persisted the
Bibliomaniac. "The masses can attend these lectures if they wish to, and
on your own statement they don't. You don't seem to consider that point,
or, if you do, you don't meet it."

"I don't think it necessary to meet it," said the Idiot. "Though I will
say that if you were one of the masses--a girl, say, with one dress,
threadbare, poor, and ill-fitting, and possessed of a natural bit of
pride--you would find little pleasure in attending a lecture your
previous education does not permit of your comprehending, and sitting
through an evening with a lot of finely dressed, smart folk, with their
backs turned towards you. The plebeians have _some_ pride, my dear
Bibliomaniac, and they are decidedly averse to mixing with the swells.
They would like to be educated, but they don't care to be snubbed for
the privilege of being mystified by a man like Professor Peterkin, even
for so small a sum as ten cents an evening."

VI

Social Expansion

"We were talking about University Extension the other day, Mr. Pedagog,"
said the Idiot, as the School-master folded up the newspaper and put it
in his pocket, "and I, as you remember, suggested that it might better
be called Social Expansion."

"Did you?" said Mr. Pedagog, coldly. "I don't remember much about it. I
rarely make a note of anything you may say."

"Well, I did suggest the change of name, whether your memory is
retentive or not, and I have been thinking the matter over a good deal
since, and I think I've got hold of an idea," returned the Idiot.

"In that case," said the Bibliomaniac, "we would better lock the door.
If you have really got hold of an idea you should be very careful not to
let it get away from you."

"No danger of that," said the Idiot, with a smile. "I have it securely
locked up here," tapping his forehead.

"It must be lonesome," said Mr. Pedagog.

"And rather uncomfortable--if it is a real idea," observed the Doctor.
"An idea in the Idiot's mind must feel somewhat as a tall, stout Irish
maid feels when she goes to her bedroom in one of those Harlem
flat-houses."

"You men are losing a great opportunity," said the Idiot, with a
scornful glance at the three professional gentlemen. "The idea of your
following the professions of pedagogy, medicine, and literature, when
the three of you combined could make a fortune as an incarnate comic
paper. I don't see why you don't make a combination like those German