TO KATE
“Your lips are like
Lowney's Bonbons, they're so sweet;
Your eyes shine like pans
That Pearline has made neat.
“Your teeth are like Ivory Soap, they're so white,
And your nose, like Pink Capsules,
Is simply all right!”
I showed it to Perkins, and asked him how he thought it would do. He read it over and shook his head.
“O. K.,” he said, “except Ivory Soap for teeth. Don't like the idea. Suggests Kate may be foaming at the mouth next. Cut it out and say:—
“'Your soul is like
Ivory Soap, it's so white.'”
I sent the poem to Kate by the next mail, and that evening I called. She was very much pleased with the poem, and said it was witty, and just what she might have expected from me. She said it did not have as much soul as Tennyson's “In Memoriam,” but that it was so different, one could hardly compare the two. She suggested that the first line ought to be illustrated. So the next morning I sent up a box of bonbons,—just as an illustration.
“Now, Biggs,” I said, “we have made a good start; and we want to keep things going. What we want now is a poem that will go right to the spot. Something that will show on the face of it that it was meant for her, and for no one else. The first effort is all right, but it might have been written for any girl.”
“Then,” said Biggs, “you'll have to tell me how you stand with her, so I can have something to lay hold on.”
I told him as much as I could, just as I had told my noble Perkins; and Biggs dug in, and in a half-hour handed me:—