CURING INSOMNIA
"Then how, may I ask," said Mr. Whitechoker, severely, "how can you write foreign letters?"
"With my stub pen, of course," replied the Idiot. "How did you suppose—with an oyster-knife?"
The clergyman sighed.
"I should like to hear some of your poems," said the Poet.
"Very well," returned the Idiot. "Here's one that has just returned from the Bengal Monthly. It's about a writer who died some years ago. Shakespeare's his name. You've heard of Shakespeare, haven't you, Mr. Pedagog?" he added.
Then, as there was no answer, he read the verse, which was as follows:
SETTLED.
Yes! Shakespeare wrote the plays—'tis clear to me.
Lord Bacon's claim's condemned before the bar.
He'd not have penned, "what fools these mortals be!"
But—more correct—"what fools these mortals are!"
"That's not bad," said the Poet.