“Ay, thank you for that: but then you know, those are the sort of things which can be done without genius.”
“And what are the things,” replied Howard, “which cannot be done without genius?”
“Oh, a great, great many, I believe,” said Oliver: “you know Holloway said so.”
“But we are not forced to believe it, because Holloway said so, are we? Besides, a great many things may mean any thing, buckling your shoes, or putting on your hat, for instance.”
Oliver laughed at this, and said, “These, to be sure, are not the sort of things that can’t be done without genius.”
“What are the sort of things?” repeated Howard. “Let us, now I’ve the pen in my hand, make a list of them.”
“Take a longer bit of paper.”
“No, no, the list will not be so very long as you think it will. What shall I put first?—make haste, for I’m in a hurry.”
“Well—writing, then—writing, I am sure, requires genius.”
“Why?”