THE GOOD KNIGHT.
December 28th, 1885.

Before another day elapsed I received the third, and, in some respects,
most interesting of this series, addressed to me by my knightly title
at "Blair Lodge Castle, Lake Forest," which is less than thirty miles
from Chicago:

Joyous and merry knight:--Soothly I wot this be the last message you
shall have from me ere you be come again hence, since else than the
stamp hereupon attached have I none nor ween I whence another can be
gotten. By the bright brow of Saint Aelfrida, this is a sorry world,
and misery and vexation do hedge us round about! A letter did this
day come unto the joyous and buxom wench, the lady Augusta, wherein
did Sir Ballantyne write how that he did not believe that the poem
"Thine Eyes" was printed in Sir Slosson's book. Now by St. Dunstan!
right merrily will he rail when so he learneth the whole truth.
Sir Melville hath not yet crossed the drawbridge of the castle,
albeit it lacketh now but the length of a barleycorn till the tenth
hour. Sir Frank de Dock hath hied him home for he is truly a senile
varlet and when I did supplicate him to regale me with a pasty this
night he quoth, "Out upon thee, thou scurvy leech!" "Beshrew
thyself, thou hoary dotard!" quoth I, nor tarried I in his presence
the saying of a pater noster, but departing hence did sup with that
lusty blade, Sir Paul of Hull, and verily he did regale me as well
beseemeth a good knight and a gentle eke.

Now, by my sword I swear't, all this venal and base-born rabble
shall rue their folly when thou art returned, O nonpareil of all the