The Inventions of the Idiot

"I think your scheme is certainly a picturesque one and novel," said Mr. Whitechoker. "There seems to be a good deal in it. Don't you think so, Mr. Pedagog?" "Yes--I do," said Mr. Pedagog, wearily. "A great deal--of language." And amid the laugh at his expense which followed, the Idiot, joining in, departed. II A Suggestion for the Cable-cars "Heigh-ho!" sighed the Idiot, rubbing his eyes sleepily. "This is a weary world." "What? This from you?" smiled the Poet. "I never expected to hear that plaint from a man of your cheerful disposition." "Humph!" said the Idiot, with difficulty repressing a yawn. "Humph! and I may add, likewise, tut! What do you take me for--an insulated sun-beam? I can't help it if shadows camp across my horizon occasionally. I wouldn't give a cent for the man who never had his moments of misery. It takes night to enable us to appreciate daytime. Misery is a foil necessary to the full appreciation of joy. I'm glad I am sort of down in the mouth to-day. I'll be all right to-morrow, and I'll enjoy to-morrow all the more for to-day's megrim. But for the present, I repeat, this is a weary world." "Oh, I don't think so," observed the School-master. "The world doesn't seem to me to betray any signs of weariness. It got to work at the usual hour this morning, and, as far as I can judge, has been revolving at the usual rate of speed ever since." "The Idiot's mistake is a common one," put in the Doctor. "I find it frequently in my practice."