"Oh, say, can you see by the dawn and so forth!" he exclaimed,
"that is fine. Think of the inspiration we get from this historic
river. Look at the mountains all around us, full of patriotic
memories, and then say that you can't do anything. Why, the poetry
fairly bubbles out of me."

"Give us a sample, William," chuckled Harry. "There was another
poet named William once. Perhaps you inherit some of his genius.
I never saw any suspicion of it on you, but it may be there all the
same. Give us a sample, There's a good fellow."

"Why, certainly," Billy rejoined. "Historical subject, eh? And
one that occurred on the Hudson? Why, that's easy. Listen to this:"

Then Billy threw up his arms, gazed straight up into the sky,
and delivered himself of his poetic thoughts as follows:

_"When Freedom from her mountain height
Unfurled her banner to the skies,
Not a creature was stirring, not-----"_

"You've got things mixed, Billy," roared Harry. "Try again.
Besides, that is not original. It must be original to pass."

"Oh, well, all poets are plagiarists more or less," said Billy,
"but this time I will give you something of my own."

Then Billy struck a pensive attitude, and began again:

_"'Twas midnight; in his guarded tent,