slight cough that may have
been intended to conceal a laugh--and that may also have been the result
of too many cigarettes--"I don't believe it could have been any more
interesting than a game of pool I heard at the club."

"It appears to me," said the Bibliomaniac to the School-master, "that
the popping sounds we heard late last night in the Idiot's room may have
some connection with the present mode of speech these two gentlemen
affect."

"Let's hear them out," returned the School-master, "and then we'll take
them into camp, as the Idiot would say."

"I don't know about that," replied the genial gentleman. "I've seen a
great many concerts, and I've heard a great many good games of pool, but
the concert last night was simply a ravishing spectacle. We had a Cuban
pianist there who played the orchestration of the first act of
_Parsifal_ with surprising agility. As far as I could see, he didn't
miss a note, though it was a little annoying to observe how he used the
pedals."

"Too forcibly, or how?" queried the Idiot.

"Not forcibly enough," returned the Imbiber. "He tried to work them both
with one foot. It was the only thing to mar an otherwise marvellous
performance. The idea of a man trying to display Wagner with two hands
and one foot is irritating to a musician with a trained eye."

[Illustration: "'WEREN'T YOUR EARS LONG ENOUGH?'"]

"I wish the Doctor would come down," said Mrs. Smithers, anxiously.

"Yes," put in the School-master; "there seems to be madness in our
midst."

"Well, what can you expect of a Cuban, anyhow?" queried the Idiot. "The
Cuban, like the Spaniard or the Italian or the African, hasn't the vigor
which is necessary for the proper comprehension and rendering of
Wagner's music. He is by nature slow and indolent. If it were easier for
a Spaniard to hop than to walk, he'd hop, and rest his other leg. I've
known Italians whose diet was entirely confined to liquids, because they
were too tired to masticate solids. It is the ease with which it can be
absorbed that makes macaroni the favorite dish of the Italians, and the
fondness of all Latin races for wines is entirely due, I think, to the
fact that wine can be swallowed without chewing. This indolence affects
also their language. The Italian and the Spaniard speak the language
that comes easy--that is soft and dreamy; while the Germans and
Russians, stronger, more energetic, indulge in a speech that even to
us, who are people of an averag