* * * * *
They were sitting in their home-like Tower of Jewels, and, a bit timidly,
Warble said, "Let's pote quoetry to each other."
Poor child, nervousness or emotion always made her reverse her initial
letters.
"All right," Petticoat returned, good naturedly, "you begin."
Just what Warble wanted! Fate was always good to her.
"I will, because I hope to reform your tastes, dear, and teach you to see
the beauty of simple beautiful poetry. Listen to this:
"Weep and the world weeps with you,
Laugh and you laugh alone--"
"That'll do, Warb. Don't go too far. Now it's my turn. But, you know, dear,
quoting isn't everything. You must learn to dissect, to interpret, and
above all to trace the influences that swayed the poet.
"Now I'll read you a poem picked at random, and then I'll trace the
influences for you."
Petticoat reached out a languid arm, picked up a current magazine and
read:"'FULFILMENT
'Here, at your delicate bosom, let death
Come to me
Where night has made a warm Elysium,
Lulled by a soft, invisible sea.
'Now in the porches of your soul I stand
Where once I stood;
Fed and forgiven by a liberal hand,
My broken boyhood is renewed.
'You are my bread and honey, set among
A grove of spice;
An ever brimming cup; a lyric sung
After the thundering battle-cries.
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