"Heigh-ho!" sighed the Idiot, rubbing his eyes sleepily. "This is a weary world."
"What? This from you?" smiled the Poet. "I never expected to hear that plaint from a man of your cheerful disposition."
.....
"That question should be its own answer," replied the Idiot. "A man who will eat a Welsh-rarebit alone is not only a person of a sullen disposition, but of reckless mould as well. I would no sooner think of braving a Welsh-rarebit unaccompanied than I would think of trying to swim across the British Channel without a lifesaving boat following in my wake."
"I question if so light a body as you could have a wake!" said Mr. Pedagog, coldly.