Senor de Loyarte is soporific as a general rule, but in his polite
sortie against me, he is more amusing than is usual. His malice is so
keen that it very nearly causes him to appear intelligent.

In literature, Senor de Loyarte--and why should Senor de Loyarte not be
associated with literature--presents the figure of a fat, pale, flabby
boy in a priests' school, skulking under the skirts of a Jesuit Father.

Senor de Loyarte, like those little, chubby-winged cherubs on sacristy
ceilings, shakes his arrowlet at me and lets fling a _billet doux_.

Senor de Loyarte says I smack of the cadaver, that I am a plagiarist, an
atheist, anti-religious, anti-patriotic, and more to boot.

I shall not reply for it may be true. Yet it is also true that Senor de
Loyarte's noble words will please his noble patrons, from whom, perhaps,
he may receive applause even more substantial than the pat on the
shoulder of a Jesuit Father, or the smile of every good Conservative,
who is a defender of the social order. His book is an achievement which
should induct Senor de Loyarte into membership in several more
academies. Senor de Loyarte is already a Corresponding Member of the
Spanish Academy, or of the Academy of History, I am not quite sure
which; but they are all the same. Speaking of history, I should be
interested to know who did first introduce the sponge.

Senor de Loyarte is destined to be a member, a member of academies all
his life.