SOME CONSIDERATION OF THE BURGLAR
"Are you ever bothered much by burglars off here in the country?" asked Mr. Pedagog one spring afternoon, as he and the Idiot and the youngsters strolled about the Idiot's small farm.
"No," said the Idiot. "They've only visited me twice."
"Only twice, eh?" observed the Schoolmaster. "Well, I should think that was often enough, considering that you haven't lived here more than a year and a half."
"It was," said the Idiot. "I didn't say I wanted them to come again, did I?"
"Of course not," returned Mr. Pedagog. "But you said 'only twice,' as if two visits of that nature were less than might have been expected."
"Well, aren't they?" asked the Idiot. "Just make a little calculation. I've lived on this place precisely five hundred and ninety-four days, and, of course, an equal number of nights. It seems to me that in breaking into my house only twice when they might have come every night shows a degree of restraint upon our Suburban Burglary Company that is worthy of the highest commendation. You, of course, refer to professional burglars, don't you?"
Mr. Pedagog laughed. "Are there any amateur burglars?"
"Are there!" ejaculated the Idiot. "Well, rather. There is the Gasman, and man who inspects the water-meter, and the Iceman, and the Plumber. If you refer to that class, why, I have them with me always."
"Which of the two classes do you prefer?" asked Mr. Pedagog, with a chuckle.