The Inventions of the Idiot

"There is such a nostrum," said the Doctor. "There is, indeed," put in the Genial Old Gentleman who occasionally imbibes. "I've tried it." "And were you sea-sick?" asked the Doctor. "I never knew," replied the Genial Old Gentleman. "It made me so ill that I never thought to inquire what was the matter with me. But one thing is certain, I'll take my sea-voyages straight after this." "I'd like to go by rail," said the Idiot, after a moment's thought. "That is a desire quite characteristic of you," said the School-master. "It is so probable that you could. Why not say that you'd like to cross the Atlantic on a tight-rope?" "Because I have no such ambition," replied the Idiot. "Though it might be fun if the tight-rope were a trolley-wire, and one could sit comfortably in a spacious cab while speeding over the water. I should think that would be exhilarating enough. Just imagine how fine it would be on a stormy day to sit looking out of your cab-window far above the surface of the raging and impotent sea, skipping along at electric speed, and daring the waves to do their worst--that would be bliss." "And so practical," growled the Bibliomaniac. "Bliss rarely is practical," said the Idiot. "Bliss is a sort of mugwump blessing--too full of the ideal and too barren in practicability." "Well," said Mr. Whitechoker. "I don't know why we should say that trolley-cars between New York and London never can be. If we had told our grandfathers a hundred years ago that a cable for the transmission of news could be laid under the sea, they would have laughed us to scorn."