The Idiot at Home

by John Kendrick Bangs

"Yes," he continued, after a pause. "Of course we expect you."

"Seven o'clock sharp," he remarked, a moment later. "You'll surely be here?" Then after a second pause, he added:

"Good! You can stay all night if you wish; we've plenty of room. Good-bye."

"'WHO WAS IT?' ASKED MRS. IDIOT"

"Who was it?" asked Mrs. Idiot, as the Idiot hung up the receiver of the telephone.

"The Poet," replied the Idiot. "He wanted to know at what hour dinner was."

"Oh, dear!" cried Mrs. Idiot. "Why didn't you tell him the dinner isn't for to-night, but to-morrow night?"

"Didn't need to, my dear," said the Idiot, lighting a cigarette. "We've made a slight mistake. You invited these people, it now appears, for the twenty-ninth."