d their dignity.

JEREMIAH PECKHAM,
District Attorney.

Such was the precise accusation against the isosceles-triangular client,
who now sat so limply and disjointedly on the opposite side of Tutt's
desk with a certain peculiar air of assurance all his own, as if, though
surprised and somewhat annoyed at the grand jury's interference with his
private affairs, he was nevertheless--being captain of his own soul--not
particularly disturbed about the matter.

"And--er--did you marry these two ladies?" inquired Tutt
apologetically.

"Sure!" responded Higgleby without hesitation.

"May I ask why?"

"Why not?" returned Higgleby. "I'm a traveling man."

"Look here," suddenly demanded Tutt. "Were you ever a lawyer?"

"Sure I was!" responded Mr. Higgleby. "I was a member of the bar of
Osceola County, Florida."

"You don't say!" gasped Tutt.

"And what, may I ask, are you now?"

"Now I'm a bigamist!" answered Mr. Higgleby.

We forget precisely who it was that so observantly said to another,
"Much learning doth make thee mad." At any rate the point to be noted is
that overindulgence in erudition has always been known to have an
unfortunate effect upon the intellectual faculty. Too much wine--though
it must have required an inordinate quantity in certain mendacious
periods--was regarded as provocative of truth; and too many books as
clearly put bats in a man's belfry. The explanation is of course simple
enough. If one overweights the head the whole structure is apt to become
unbalanced. This is the reason why we hold scholars in such light
esteem. They are an unbalanced lot. And after all, why should they get
paid more than half the wage of plumbers or locomotive firemen? What is
easier than sitting before a comfortable steam radiator and reading an
etymological dictionary or the Laws of Hammurabi? They toil not even if
their heads spin. Only in Germany has the pedagogue ever received full
meed of gold and of honor--and look at Germany!

Pedants have never been much considered by men of action. They never
will be. Experience is the only teacher, which, in the language of Amos
Eno, who left two millions to the Institute of Mechanics and Tradesmen,
is "worth a damn." We Americans abhor any affectation of learning; hence
our weakness for slang. I should apologize for the word "weakness." On
the contrary it is a token of our virile independence, our scorn for the
delicatessen of education, mere dilettanteism. An