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When Greek meets Greek, then comes the tug of war. And it befalls me, the Managing Editor of this magazine, to record, in my hnmble way, the result of the memorable conflict between these two well-known wits ; and, whereas I doubtless have omitted many of their most interesting sallies — tho lost to print, to memory dear.
John Bunny is not the man you think he is. You imagine that he can only laugh and make funny faces. But you are wrong. He is just as serious as a philosopher, and he is just brimming over with good ideas and common sense. And if he is interesting on the screen, he is doubly so off. As to the Answer Man, dubbed "Old Rip" among the other editors, he is to be known by what he says, rather than by how he looks, his identity and personality to remain a deep, dark mystery — at his request.
One fine day we heard the chugchug of a motor-car at our door, and the call-boy came up to the editorial sanctum and announced to the Answer Man, ' ' Mr. John Bunny below ! ' '
"Send the gentleman up on deck," replied the Answer Man, clearing a passageway among a small carload of letters. Soon a ruddy-faced, smiling, little (or shall we say big?), fat man panted in, and the two faced each other.
"So this be you, be it"?" smiled Bunny.
"Sure; who did you think it was — somebody else?" retorted the A. M.
"Well, I'd never know you from your pictures — they flatter you terribly. Where's that massive dome, that colossal brain-case, that the artist has adorned you with?"
"Oh, that's partly — only partly — imaginary. You see, the artist knew the vast accumulation of gray matter within, and he had to picture it without."
"Ah, but does the size of a cask indicate its contents?"
' ' No more than does your abdomen indicate your mentality. You see, you are abnormally large there, while I am abnormally large here/' replied the A. M., placing a bony, temperamental finger on his brow and adroitly closing one eye.
"But," retorted Bunny, "if this were all brains, and that were but a hollow dome, the advantage "
"The advantage would all be mine," interrupted the A. M., "because I would still have a field in which to plant, while your plot would be so crowded that nothing would grow in it but weeds."
Then they both laughed — for the first time — for up to this moment both were apparently as serious as senators. Then they shook hands.
"First, we want to show you
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