The Inventions of the Idiot

"The last, I think, would not come about," said Mr. Pedagog. "For there are people who like the music of hand-organs." "True--I'm one of 'em. I'd hire a hansom to follow a piano-organ about the city if I could afford it, but as a rule the hand-organ lovers are of the one-cent class," returned the Idiot. "The quarter class are people who would rather not hear the hand-organ, and it is to them that a grinder of business capacity would naturally address himself. It is far pleasanter to stay at home and be paid large money for doing nothing than to undertake a weary march through the city to receive small sums for doing something. That's human nature, Mr. Pedagog." "I presume it is," said Mr. Pedagog; "but I don't think your scheme is. Human nature works, but your plan wouldn't." "Well, of course," said the Idiot, "you never can tell about ideals. The fact that an ideal is ideal is the chief argument against its amounting to much. But I am confident that if my Beggar's Don't and Elite Directory fail, my other book will go." "You appear to have the writing of a library in mind," sneered the Bibliomaniac. "I have," said the Idiot. "If I write all the books I have in mind, the public library will be a small affair beside mine." "And your other book is to be what?" queried Mr. Whitechoker.