"
"Indeed!" returned the lady, sharply. "Very well. And I shall put in a
counterclaim for the lunches you carry away from breakfast every morning
in your pockets."
"In that event we'll call it off, madame," returned the Idiot, as with a
courtly bow and a pleasant smile he left the room.
"Well, I call him 'off,'" was all the landlady could say, as the other
guests took their departure.
And of course the School-master agreed with her.
VII
"Our streets appear to be as far from perfect as ever," said the
Bibliomaniac with a sigh, as he looked out through the window at the
great pools of water that gathered in the basins made by the sinking of
the Belgian blocks. "We'd better go back to the cowpaths of our
fathers."
"There is a great deal in what you say," observed the School-master.
"The cowpath has all the solidity of mother earth, and none of the
distracting noises we get from the pavements that obtain to-day. It is
porous and absorbs the moisture. The Belgian pavement is leaky, and lets
it run into our cellars. We might do far worse than to go back--"
"Excuse me for having an opinion," said the Idiot, "but the man of
enterprise can't afford to indulge in the luxury of the somnolent
cowpath. It is too quiet. It conduces to sleep, which is a luxury
business men cannot afford to indulge in too freely. Man must be up and
doing. The prosperity of a great city is to my mind directly due to its
noise and clatter, which effectually put a stop to napping, and keep men
at all times wide awake.
Pages:
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44