Chapter 1

The guests at Mrs. Smithers's high-class boarding-house for gentlemen
had assembled as usual for breakfast, and in a few moments Mary, the
dainty waitress, entered with the steaming coffee, the mush, and the
rolls.

The School-master, who, by-the-way, was suspected by Mrs. Smithers of
having intentions, and who for that reason occupied the chair nearest
the lady's heart, folded up the morning paper, and placing it under him
so that no one else could get it, observed, quite genially for him, "It
was very wet yesterday."

"I didn't find it so," observed a young man seated half-way down the
table, who was by common consent called the Idiot, because of his
"views." "In fact, I was very dry. Curious thing, I'm always dry on
rainy days. I am one of the kind of men who know that it is the part of
wisdom to stay in when it rains, or to carry an umbrella when it is not
possible to stay at home, or, having no home, like ourselves, to remain
cooped up in stalls, or stalled up in coops, as you may prefer."

"You carried an umbrella, then?" queried the landlady, ignoring the
Idiot's shaft at the size of her "elegant and airy apartments" with an
ease born of experience.

"Yes, madame," returned the Idiot, quite unconscious of what was coming.

"Whose?" queried the lady, a sarcastic smile playing about her lips.

"That I cannot say, Mrs. Smithers," replied the Idiot, serenely, "but it
is the one you usually carry."

"Your insinuation, sir," said the School-master, coming to the
landlady's rescue, "is an unworthy one. The umbrella in question is
mine. It has been in my possession for five years."

"Then," replied the Idiot, unabashed, "it is time you returned it. Don't
you think men's morals are rather lax in this matter of umbrellas, Mr.
Whitechoker?" he added, turning from the School-master, who began to
show signs of irritation.

"Very," said the Minister, running his finger about his neck to make the
collar which had been sent home from the laundry by mistake set more
easily--"very lax. At the last Conference I attended, some person,
forgetting his high office as a minister in the Church, walked off with
my umbrella without so much as a thank you; and it was embarrassing too,
because the rain was coming down in bucketfuls."

"What did you do?" asked the landlady, sympathetically. She liked Mr.
Whitechoker's sermons, and, beyond this, he was a more profitable
boarder than any of the others, remaining home to luncheon every day and
having to pay extra therefor.

"There was but one thing left for me to do. I