“Tommy got his second girl, who was hit on the head with a ripe tomato, and then it was all over. The girls wouldn’t stand for it. The sport had become too exciting. Tommy told me how he had invited Bridget Maloney, and she had said: ‘Na-a-ah! Do yez take me for an idiot? Sure every rotten egg in the town would be jumpin’ at me.’
“It suggested an idea. As the imitation 102 idiots had given out, we would try the real thing. So I ’phoned the manager of our thriving idiot asylum on the Post Road and arranged to have Tommy take one of his patients every day for a drive in the cart. Why shouldn’t all the idiots enjoy themselves? Fresh air would be good for them. It would turn the cart into a charity which would cover a part of my sins. I asked for the better class of idiots––the quiet ones, who had sense enough to appreciate a good thing. The parade began and continued day after day.
“Harry had retired his tandem after Tom, with a stiff-backed idiot by his side, had clattered after him through the village behind the two spavined nags to the amusement of many people. He had kept up with Harry.
“Soon that kind of a rig was known as the Idiot Wagon. Then Tommy resigned; it was more than he could stand. He said he was willing to do any honest work for 103 money, but not that. He said that the idiots imagined themselves rich, and put on so much style that it made the whole thing ridiculous.
“‘Never mind––it’s the habit of idiots,’ I said.
“‘One of ’em thinks he’s Napoleon Bonaparte, an’ calls me his man, and wears a plug hat and sits as straight as a ramrod, and bows to the people when they laugh at him,’ said Tommy. ‘Some of ’em get stuck on the cart, and it’s a fight to get ’em out of it. I tell ye, I’m sick o’ the job. The sight o’ that cart makes me feel nutty.’
“‘Never mind, Tom,’ I said; ‘you’ve been a public benefactor, and you and the cart are entitled to an honorable discharge.’
“Every bright day the drag was tooling over the road with picnic-parties on their way to one of the popular beaches. Our local lodges and political clubs, and now and then a load of Italians, were able to 104 enjoy the luxury which had been the exclusive delight of Harry and the fluffy maidens of Pointview.
“Drags an’ tandems are all right if you don’t go too far with ’em. We were just in time to prevent them from becoming tools of degeneration in our village.”