m 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.

"_Plausible Tales for Beggars to Tell_," said the Idiot. "If the beggar
could only tell an interesting story he'd be surer of an ear in which to
whisper it. The usual beggar's tale is commonplace. There's no art in
it. There are no complications of absorbing interest. There is not a
soul in creation, I venture to say, but would be willing to have a
beggar stop right in the middle of his story. The tales I'd write for
them would be so interesting that the attention of the wayfarer would be
arrested at once. His mind would be riveted on the situation at once,
and, instead of hurrying along and trying to leave the beggar behind, he
would stop, button-hole him, and ask him to sit down on a convenient
doorstep and continue. If a beggar could have such a story to tell as
would enable him in the midst of one of its most exciting episodes to
whisper hoarsely into the ear of the man whose nickel he was seeking,
'The rest of this interesting story I will tell you in Central Park at
nine o'clock to-morrow night,' in such a manner as would impel the
listener to meet him in the Park the following evening, his fortune
would be made. Such a book I hope some day to write."

"I have no doubt," said Mr. Whitechoker, "that it will be an
entertaining addition to fiction."

"Nor have I," said the Id