Volume II Part 49 (1/2)

BABBALANJA--In ten days, Loe acres of vellum whereon to expatiate

MEDIA--What then?

BABBALANJA--He read thee of the whole: and put it into the fire

ALL--How?

MEDIA--What! these great geniuses writing trash?

ABRAZZA--I thought as much

BABBALANJA--My lords, they abound in it! more than any other enius essays its best to keep it to itself; and giving away its ore, retains the earth; whence, the too frequent wisdoenius is not inspired, after all How they must slave in their mines! I weep to think of it

BABBALANJA--My lord, all hness is inspired; for the essence of all ideas is infused Of ourselves, and in ourselves, we originate nothing When Lombardo set about his work, he knew not what it would becoht on; and so doing, got deeper and deeper into hi woods, at last was rewarded for his toils ”In good tiraphy, ”I caion; full of sweet scents, singing birds, wild plaints, roguish laughs, prophetic voices ”Here we are at last, then,” he cried; ”I have created the creative” And now the whole boundless landscape stretched away Lombardo panted; the sas on his brow; he off mantle; braced himself; sat within view of the ocean; his face to a cool rushi+ng breeze; placed flowers before hiave himself plenty of room On one side was his ream of vellum--

ABBRAZZA--And on the other, a brih he loved it, no wine for Lombardo while actually at work

MOHI--Indeed? Why, I ever thought that it was to the superior quality of Lo humor of his

BABBALANJA--Not so; he had another way of keeping himself well braced

YOOMY--Quick! tell us the secret

BABBALANJA--He never wrote by rush-light His la in heaven-- He rose from his East, with the sun; he wrote when all nature was alive

MOHI--Doubtless, then, he alrote with a grin; and none laughed louder at his quips, than Lohter at the birth of a man child, old man?

The babe may have many dimples; not so, the parent Lombardo was a herh with a long face?

BABBALANJA--His hness For thekept him serious Then he was so intensely riveted to his work, he could not pause to laugh

MOHI--My word for it; but he had a sly one, now and then

BABBALANJA--For the nonce, he was not his ownby dictation

YOOMY--Inspiration, that!

BABBALANJA--Call it as you will, Yoo of the mind Lombardo never thren his pen: it dropped fro his eyes; staring; and feeling faint--sometimes, almost unto death

MEDIA--But pray, Babbalanja, tell us how he made acquaintance with some of those rare worthies, he introduces us to, in his Koztanza

BABBALANJA--He firstabout in hi time, were shy of his advances; but still irew ashaave him their hands After that, they were frank and friendly Lombardo set places for the in his will