erings at which all smiled at the reun-
ion of friends and the bounty of the board.


What moistens the lip and brightens the eye!
What calls back the past like the rich pumpkin pie!


I was sure these lines would meet
with approval, and having "come down
to the popular taste," I was prepared
to do my best to please.

After a few seconds, when the golden
pumpkins that lined the stage had
ceased to dance before my eyes, I
thought I ought to begin to "get hold
of my audience." Of course, my mem-
ory would be giving me the right words,
and my facile tongue running along re-
liably, but I wished to demonstrate that
"ability" which was to bring me fa-
vour and fame. I listened to my own
words and was shivered into silence. I
was talking about "dark Plutonian
shadows"; I was begging "Egypt" to
let her arms enfold me -- I was, indeed,
in the very thick of the forbidden poem.
I could hear my thin, aspiring voice
reaching out over that paralysed audi-