"A highly original remark," observed the Idiot, with a grin.
"That aside," said the Doctor, coolly, "let's take up, for purposes of discussion, a few standards. In music, Wagner was an Immortal, and produced his great trilogy. In poetry, Milton was an Immortal, and produced 'Paradise Lost.' In the drama, Shakespeare was an Immortal, and produced 'Hamlet', and, coming down to our own time, let us grant the obvious fact that Edison is headed toward immortality because of his wizardry in electricity."
"Sure thing!" said the Idiot.
"It is good to have you grant all I say so readily," said the Doctor. "Now then—let me ask you where in all history you find four women who in the matter of their achievement, in the demonstrated fruits of their labors, even measurably approached any one of these four I have mentioned?"
"Why, Doctor," grinned the Idiot, "why ask me to steal candy from a baby? Why suggest that I try to drive a tack with a sledgehammer, or cut a mold of currant jelly with the whirring teeth of a buzz saw—"
"Sparring for time as usual," cried the Doctor triumphantly. "You can't name one, and are simply trying to asphyxiate us with that peculiar variety of natural gas for which you have long been famous."
"I'll fill the roster with examples if you'll sit and listen," said the Idiot. "I can match every male genius that ever lived from Noah down to Josephus Daniels with a woman whose product was of equal if not even greater value. Begin where you please—in any century before or since the flood, and I'll be your huckleberry—Wagner, Milton, Cromwell, Roosevelt, Secretary Daniels, Kaiser Wilhelm, Methuselah—I don't care who or what he is—I'll match him."
"All right," said the Doctor. "Suppose we begin low with that trifling little frivoler in literature, William Shakespeare!"
"Good!" cried the Idiot. "He'll do—I'll just mark him off with Mrs. Shakespeare."
"What?" chuckled the Doctor. "Anne Hathaway?"