2

The Salon contents me not;

The fine feathers of New England damsels content me not;

The ways of snobs, the falsettos of the primo tenore, the legs

of Lydia Thomson's troupe of blondes, content me not;

Nor tea-drinking, nor the twaddle of Mr. Secretary Harlan,

nor the loafers of the hotel bar, nor Sham, nor Long-

fellow's Village Blacksmith.