ubled experience
as to being fed had he been allowed as much coffee as he craved.
Once, when younger, he had heard some one say that the only tree in
all the American forests that bore the name of Kentucky was the
Kentucky coffee tree, and he had instantly conceived a desire to
pay a visit in secret to that corner of the woods. To take his cup
and a few lumps of sugar and sit under the boughs and catch the
coffee as it dripped down.... No one to hold him back ... as much
as he wanted at last.... The Kentucky coffee tree--his favorite in
Nature!

John Kendrick Bangs relates, in _Coffee and Repartee_[355], some amusing
skirmishes indulged in at the boarding-house table, between the Idiot
and the guests, where coffee served the purpose of enlivening the tilt:

"Can't I give you another cup of coffee?" asked the landlady of the
School Master.

"You may," returned the School Master, pained at the lady's
grammar, but too courteous to call attention to it save by the
emphasis with which he spoke the word "may".

Said the Idiot: "You may fill my cup too, Mrs. Smithers."

"The coffee is all gone," returned the landlady, with a snap.

"Then, Mary," said the Idiot, gracefully turning to the maid, "you
may give me a glass of ice water. It is quite as warm, after all,
as the coffee and not quite so weak."

One other little skit remains at the expense of Mrs. Smithers' coffee.
At the breakfast table, where the air, as usual, is charged with
repartee, Mr. Whitechoker, the minister, says to his landlady:

"Mrs. Smithers, I'll have a dash of hot water in my coffee, this
morning." Then with a glance toward the Idiot, he added, "I think it
looks like rain."

"Referring to the coffee, Mr. Whitechoker?" queried the Idiot....

"Ah,--I don't quite follow you," replied the Minister with some
annoyance.

"You said something looked like rain, and I asked you if the thing
referred to was the coffee, for I was disposed to agree with you,"
said the Idiot.

"I am sure," put in Mrs. Smithers, "that a gentleman of Mr.
Whitechoker's refinement would not make any such insinuation, sir.
He is not the man to quarrel with what is set before him."

"I must ask your pardon, Madam," returned the Idiot politely. "I
hope I am not the man to quarrel with my food, either. Indeed, I