The Idiot | Page 8

world and

they not know it before. The out-of-town papers would literally teem
with witty extracts from our comedian's plays, which we should
immediately recognize as the dicta of my poor self."
[Illustration: "THEY ARE GIVEN TO REHEARSING AT ALL
HOURS"]
"All of which," put in Mr. Whitechoker, "but proves the truth of my
assertion that such a person would be an extremely objec--"
"Then, as I said before," continued the Idiot, "he is continually
rehearsing, and his objectionableness as a fellow-boarder would be
greater or less, according to his play. If he were impersonating a
shiftless wanderer, who shows remarkable bravery at a hotel fire, we
should have to be prepared at any time to hear the fire-engines rushing
up to the front door, and to see our comedian scaling the fire-escape
with Mrs. Pedagog and her account-books in his arms, simply in the
line of rehearsal. If he were impersonating a detective after a criminal
masquerading as a good citizen, the School-Master would be startled
some night by a hoarse voice at his key-hole exclaiming: 'Ha! ha! I
have him now. There is no escape save by the back window, and that's
so covered o'er with dust 'twere suffocation sure to try it.' I hesitate to
say what would happen if he were a tank comedian."
[Illustration: "'HA! HA! I HAVE HIM NOW!'"]
"Perhaps," said Mr. Whitechoker, with a trifle more impatience than
was compatible with his calling--"perhaps you will hesitate long
enough for me to state what I have been trying to state ever since this
soliloquy of yours began--that in any event, whether this person be a
tragedian, or a comedian, or a walking gentleman, or a riding
gentleman in a circus, I object to his being admitted to this circle, and I
deem it well to say right here that as he comes in at the front door I go
out at the back. As a clergyman, I do not approve of the stage."
"That ought to settle it," said the Idiot. "Mr. Whitechoker is too good a
friend to us all here for us to compel him to go out of that back door
into the rather limited market-garden Mrs. Pedagog keeps in the yard.

My indirect plea for the admission of Mr. Junius Brutus Davenport was
based entirely upon my desire to see this circle completed or nearer
completion than it is at present. We have all the professions represented
here but the stage, and why exclude it, granting that no one objects?
The men whose lives are given over to the amusement of mankind, and
who are willing to place themselves in the most outrageous situations
night after night in order that we may for the time being seem to be
lifted out of the unpleasant situations into which we have got ourselves,
are in my opinion doing a noble work. The theatre enables us to woo
forgetfulness of self successfully for a few brief hours, and I have seen
the time when an hour or two of relief from actual cares has resulted in
great good. Nevertheless, the gentleman is not elected; and if Mrs.
Pedagog will kindly refill my cup, I will ask you to join me in draining
a toast to the health of the pastor of this flock, whose conscience,
paradoxical as it may seem, is the most frequently worn and yet the
least thread-bare of the consciences represented at this table."
This easy settlement of her difficulty was so pleasing to Mrs. Pedagog
that the Idiot's request was graciously acceded to, and Mr.
Whitechoker's health was drank in coffee, after which the Idiot
requested the genial gentleman who occasionally imbibed to join him
privately in eating buckwheat cakes to the health of Mr. Davenport.
"I haven't any doubt that he is worthy of the attention," he said; "and if
you will lend me the money to buy the tickets, I'll take you around to
the Criterion to-night, where he is playing. I don't know whether he
plays Hamlet or A Hole in the Roof; but, at any rate, we can have a
good time between the acts."

IV
"I see the men are at work on the pavements this morning," said the
School-Master, gazing out through the window at a number of laborers
at work in the street.
"Yes," said the Idiot, calmly, "and I think Mrs. Pedagog ought to sue

the Department of Public Works for libel. If she hasn't a case no
maligned person ever had."
"What are you saying, sir?" queried the landlady, innocently.
"I say," returned the Idiot, pointing out into the street, "that you ought
to sue the Department of Public Works for libel. They've got their sign
right up against your house. No Thorough Fare is what it says. That's
libel, isn't it,