evidently pretty; but those who are unacquainted
with the idiomatic peculiarities of your speech might ask you if you
meant that she was pretty in a plain sort of way. Suppose, too, you were
writing a novel, and, in a desire to give your reader a fair idea of the
personal appearance of a homely but good creature, you should say, 'It
cannot be denied that Rosamond Follansbee was pretty plain?' It wouldn't
take a very grave error of the types to change your entire meaning. To
save a line on a page, for instance, it might become necessary to
eliminate a single word; and if that word should chance to be the word
'plain' in the sentence I have given, your homely but good person would
be set down as being undeniably pretty. Which shows, it seems to me, that
too great care cannot be exercised in the making of selections from our
vocabu--"

"You are the worst I _ever_ knew!" snapped Mr. Pedagog.

"Which only proves," observed the Idiot, "that you have not heeded the
Scriptural injunction that you should know thyself. Are those buckwheat
cakes or doilies?"

Whether the question was heard or not is not known. It certainly was not
answered, and silence reigned for a few minutes. Finally Mrs. Pedagog
spoke, and in the manner of one who was somewhat embarrassed. "I am in an
embarrassing position," said she.

"Good!" said the Idiot, _sotto-voce_, to the genial gentleman who
occasionally imbibed. "There is hope for the landlady yet. If she can be
embarrassed she is still human--a condition I was beginning to think she
wotted not of."

"She whatted what?" queried the genial gentleman, not quite catching the
Idiot's words.

"Never mind," returned the Idiot. "Let's hear how she ever came to be
embarrassed."

"I have had an application for my first-floor suite, and I don't know
whether I ought to accept it or not," said the landlady.

"She has a conscience, too," whispered the Idiot; and then he added,
aloud, "And wherein lies the difficulty, Mrs. Pedagog?"

"The applicant is an actor; Junius Brutus Davenport is his name."

"A tragedian or a comedian?" asked the Bibliomaniac.

"Or first walking gentleman, who knows every railroad tie in the
country?" put in the Idiot.

"That I do not know," returned the landlady. "His name sounds familiar
enough, though. I thought perhaps some of you gentlemen might know of
him."

"I have heard of Junius Brutus," observed the Doctor, chuckling slightly
at his own humor, "and I've heard of