Gud, "do the words of the Genius make a stench in their
burning?"

"Because," said the citizen, "they are vile."

Gud doubted that which the citizen told him, and he quickened his steps
and made bold to pass close to the Critic. Whereupon Gud, who could see
all things, saw that the words of the Genius which the Critic picked up
were not vile but beautiful; and that, when the Critic made a pass
toward the brazier, he put the word not therein but dropped it instead
into a wallet which he carried beneath his mantle.

Gud was angered and he grasped the fellow by his egotism and shook him
until his conceit rattled and made inferential allegations of hypocrisy.

"What is it to you," demanded the Critic, "if I spit into the brazier to
make a stench to please the people?"

"But what do you with the words of Genius?"

"By the holy name of Public Opinion! Why should a man do the work of a
street cleaner on the salary of a critic?"

"I have been a public official myself," replied Gud sympathetically,
"and I know how ill such service is paid."

This pleased the Critic and he turned and looked into Gud's face and saw
there the satisfied look of self-sufficient authority which he
recognized as akin to his own. Plucking confidentially at Gud's sleeve
he said: "As you appreciate that I must live by subtle ways, then
perhaps I can interest you in a few choice verbal gems."

Gud realized that purchasing these words was probably illegal in this
world. But it wasn't his world, so he said: "I should like to look at
them."

The Critic led Gud into the rear room of a perfectly respectable place
and opened up his wallet. Here, in a secluded corner, he emptied the
contents upon a table.

Gud began fingering over the verbal gems.

"Look at this," the Critic cried, picking up a brilliant one.

"Too scintillating for the quiet setting I have in mind," replied Gud.
Then after examining a few more, he asked: "What will you take for the
lot?"

"My price for the lot," said the Critic, "is the gift of power to speak
myself such words of genius as I have been defaming to please the
people, for I am weary of being a mere word picker and moral scavenger."

Gud answered: "I can give a Critic the power to walk down the street and
spill words but I can not make a Genius pick them up."

"Sold!" said the Critic, pushing the verbal gems across the table--and
immediately he began to babble words. But Gud noted that they were only
words of gr