“Nothing,” was the simple rejoinder. “It comes and it goes, and there you are—at least most of the time.”
“What is Inspiration?” said Willie.
The Zankiwank and the Jackarandajam both shook their heads in a solemn manner, and looked as wise as the Sphinx. Then the former answered slowly and deliberately—
“Inspiration is the sort of thing that comes when you do not fish for it.”
“But,” said Willie, who did not quite see the force of the explanation, “you can’t fish for a great many things and of course nothing comes. How do you manage then?”
This was a decided poser, beating them at their own game, so the Zankiwank sent another telegram, presumably to the Bletherwitch, and the Jackarandajam made a fresh cigarette, which he carefully refrained from smoking. Then he turned to the two children and said mournfully—
“Have you seen my new invention? Ah! it was the result of my recent attack of Inspiration. Come with me and I will show you.” Thereupon