Chapter 11

"I wonder what would have happened if Columbus had not discovered
America?" said the Bibliomaniac, as the company prepared to partake of
the morning meal.

"He would have gone home disappointed," said the Idiot, with a look of
surprise on his face, which seemed to indicate that in his opinion the
Bibliomaniac was very dull-witted not to have solved the problem for
himself. "He would have gone home disappointed, and we would now be
foreigners, like most other Americans. Mr. Pedagog would doubtless be
instructing the young scions of the aristocracy of Tipperary, Mr.
Whitechoker would be Archbishop of Canterbury, the Bibliomaniac would be
raising bulbs in Holland, and----"

[Illustration: "THE BIBLIOMANIAC WOULD BE RAISING BULBS"]

"And you would be wandering about with the other wild men of Borneo at
the present time," put in the School-Master.

"No," said the Idiot. "Not quite. I should be dividing my time up between
Holland, France, Switzerland, and Spain."

"You are an international sort of Idiot, eh?" queried the Lawyer, with a
chuckle at his own wit.

"Say rather a cosmopolitan Idiot," said the Idiot. "Among my ancestors
I number individuals of various nations, though I suppose that if we go
back far enough we were all in the same boat as far as that is concerned.
One of my great-great-grandfathers was a Scotchman, one of them was a
Dutchman, another was a Spaniard, a fourth was a Frenchman. What the
others were I don't know. It's a nuisance looking up one's ancestors,
I think. They increase so as you go back into the past. Every man
has had two grandfathers, four great-grandfathers, eight
great-great-grandfathers, sixteen great-great-great-grandfathers,
thirty-two fathers raised to the fourth power of great-grandness, and
so on, increasing in number as you go further back, until it is hardly
possible for any one to throw a brick into the pages of history without
hitting somebody who is more or less responsible for his existence. I
dare say there is a streak of Julius C�sar in me, and I haven't a doubt
that if our friend Mr. Pedagog here were to take the trouble to
investigate, he would find that C�sar and Cassius and Brutus could be
numbered among his early progenitors--and now that I think of it,
I must say that in my estimation he is an unusually amiable man,
considering how diverse the nature of these men were. Think of it for
a minute. Here a man unites in himself C�sar and Cassius and Brutus,
two of whom killed the third, and then, having quarrelled together,
went out upon a battle-field and slaughtered themselves, after making
extemporaneous remarks, for which