Part 1 (2/2)

They go down easy; then for soup”-it really made me laugh- ”The poems of old Johnny Gay”-his words were rather rough- ”They'll do quite well, for, after all, soup's thin and sloppy stuff.

”For fish, old Izaak Walton; and to serve as an _entree_, I think some fixed-up morsel, say from James, or from Daudet; The roast will be Charles Kingsley-there's a deal of beef in him.

For sherbet, T. B. Aldrich is just suited to my whim.

”For game I'll have Boccaccio-he's quite the proper one; He certainly is gamey, and a trifle underdone; And for the salad, Addison, so fresh and crisp is he, With just a touch of Pope to give a tang to him, you see.

”And then for cheese, Max Nordau, for I think you'll find right there Some things as strong and mushy as the best of Camembert; And for dessert let Thackeray and O. Khayyam be brought, The which completes a dinner of most wondrous richness fraught.

”For olives and for almonds we can take the jokes of _Punch_- They're good enough for us, I think, to casually munch; And through it all we'll quaff the wines that flow forever clear From Avon's vineyards in the heart of Will of Warwicks.h.i.+re.”

_IDEAS FOR SALE_

I'M in literary culture, and I've opened up a shop, Where I'd like ye, gents and ladies, if you're pa.s.sing by to stop.

Come and see my rich a.s.sortment of fine literary seed That I'm selling to the writers of full many a modern screed.

I've bacilli for ten volumes for a dollar, in a bag- Not a single germ among 'em that's been ever known to drag.

Not a single germ among 'em, if you see they're planted right, But will grow into a novel that they'll say is out of sight.

I have motifs by the thousand, motifs sad and motifs gay.

You can buy 'em by the dozen, or I'll serve 'em every day: I will serve 'em in the morning, as the milkman serves his wares; I will serve 'em by the postman, or I'll leave 'em on your stairs.

When you get down to your table with your head a vacuum, You can say unto your helpmeet, ”Has that quart of ideas come That we ordered served here daily from that plot-man down the street?”

And you'll find that I've been early my engagement to complete.

Should you want a book of poems that will bring you into fame, Let me send a sample packet that will guarantee the same, Holding ”Seeds of Thought from Byron, Herrick, Chaucer, Tennyson.”

Plant 'em deep, and keep 'em watered, and you'll find the deed is done.

I've a hundred comic packets that would make a Twain of Job; I have ”Seeds of Tales Narcotic; Tales of Surgeons and the Probe.”

I've a most superb a.s.sortment, on the very cheapest terms, Done up carefully in tin-foil, of my A 1 ”Trilby Germs.”

So perchance if you're ambitious in a literary line, Be as dull as e'er you can be, you will surely cut a s.h.i.+ne, If you'll only take advantage of this opportunity, When you're pa.s.sing by to stop in for a little chat with me.

You may ask me, in conclusion, why I do not seek myself All the laurel and the glory of these seeds I sell for pelf.

I will tell you, though the confidence I can't deny is rash, I'm a trifle long on laurels, and a little short of cash.

_THE AUTHOR'S BOOMERANG_

HE frowns with reason; he has always said, ”The public has no knowledge of true art; The book of worth these days would not be read; 'Tis trash not truth that goes upon the mart.”

And then was published his beloved work- Some twenty-six editions it has had- And he his own conclusion cannot s.h.i.+rk: With such success as this it must be bad!

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