ition which confronts us?"

"It refers to the latter, of course."

"Then the full text of Mr. Whitechoker's remark is, I suppose, that 'the
rainy condition of the atmosphere which confronts us looks like rain?'"

"Oh, I suppose so," sighed the School-master, wearily.

"Rather an unnecessary sort of statement that!" continued the Idiot.
"It's something like asserting that a man looks like himself, or, as in
the case of a child's primer--

"'See the cat?'

"'Yes, I see the cat.'

"'What is the cat?'

"'The cat is a cat. Scat cat!'"

At this even Mrs. Smithers smiled.

"I don't agree with Mr. Pedagog," put in the Bibliomaniac, after a
pause.

Here the School-master shook his head warningly at the Bibliomaniac, as
if to indicate that he was not in good form.

"So I observe," remarked the Idiot. "You have upset him completely. See
how Mr. Pedagog trembles?" he added, addressing the genial gentleman who
occasionally imbibed.

[Illustration: "'I BELIEVE YOU'D BLOW OUT THE GAS IN YOUR BED-ROOM'"]

"I don't mean that way," sneered the Bibliomaniac, bound to set Mr.
Whitechoker straight. "I mean that the word 'it,' as employed in that
sentence, stands for day. The day looks like rain."

"Did you ever see a day?" queried the Idiot.

"Certainly I have," returned the Bibliomaniac.

"What does it look like?" was the calmly put question.

The Bibliomaniac's impatience was here almost too great for safety, and
the manner in which his face colored aroused considerable interest in
the breast of the Doctor, who was a good deal of a specialist in
apoplexy.

"Was it a whole day you saw, or only a half-day?" persisted the Idiot.

"You may think you are very funny," retorted the Bibliomaniac. "I think
you are--"

"Now don't get angry," returned the Idiot. "There are two or three
things I do not know, and I'm anxious to learn. I'd like to know how a
day looks to one to whom it is a visible object. If it is visible, is it
tangible? and, if so, how does it feel?"

"The visible is always tangible," asserted the School-master,
recklessly.

"How about a red-hot stove, or manifest indignation, or a view from a
mountain-top, or, as in the case of the young man in the novel who
'suddenly waked,' and, 'looking anxiously about him, saw no one?'"
returned the Idiot, imperturbably.

"Tut!" ejaculated the Bibliomaniac. "If I had brains like yours, I'd
blow them out."

"Yes, I think you would," observed the Idiot, folding u