"How singular!" said the Bibliomaniac. "Reminds me of a story I heard of
a man who had lost his foot. He'd had his foot shot off at Gettysburg,
and yet for years after he could feel the pangs of rheumatism in that
foot from which he had previously suffered."

"Pardon me for repeating," observed the Idiot. "But, as I have already
said, and as I expect often to have to say again, Tutt! I can't blame
you for thinking that I have no head, however. I find so little use for
one here that in most instances I do not obtrude it upon you."

"I haven't noticed any lack of head in the Idiot," put in the
School-master. "As a rule, I can agree to almost anything my friend the
Bibliomaniac says, but in this case I cannot accept his views. You have
a head. I have always said you had a head--in fact, that is what I
complain about chiefly, it is such a big head."

"Thank you," said the Idiot, ignoring the shaft. "I shall never forget
your kindness in coming to my aid, though I can't say that I think I
needed it. Even with a racking headache sustained by these delicious
waffles, I believe I can handle the Doctor and my bookish friend without
assistance. I am what the mathematicians would call an arithmetical
absurdity--I am the one that is equal to the two they represent. At
present, however, I prefer to let them talk on. I am too much absorbed
in thought and waffles to bandy words."

"If I had a headache," said Mrs. Smithers-Pedagog, without, it must be
said, in any way desiring to stem the waffle tide which was slowly but
surely eating into the profits of the week--"if I had a headache I
should not eat so many waffles, Mr. Idiot."

"I suppose I ought not to," replied the Idiot, "but I can't help it,
ma'am. Waffles are my weakness. Some men take to drink, some to gaming;
I seek forgetfulness of woe in waffles. Mr. Whitechoker, will you kindly
pass me that steaming ten of diamonds that is wasting its warmth upon
the desert air before you?"

Mr. Whitechoker, with a sigh which indicated that he had had his eye on
the ten of diamonds himself, did as he was requested.

"Many thanks," said the Idiot, transferring the waffle to his plate.
"Let me see--that is how many?"

"Five," said Mr. Pedagog.

"Eight," said the Bibliomaniac.

"Dear me!" ejaculated the Idiot. "Why can't you agree? I never eat less
than twelve waffles, and now that you have failed to keep tab I shall
have to begin all over again. Mary, bring me one dozen fresh waf