“Why, the necromancer’s, of course.”
“You call it ‘verses,’ do you? Well, Charley, a boy generally does. But you should say ‘poetry.’ Now, this is genuine poetry—an ode, an—an——. Well, the book says it’s an Apostrophe, or Address to——”
“Fiddle-sticks! George, do you know it?”
The Sage made no answer, but, facing the river and the moon, he drew himself up proudly, and merely observing that he must have silence, cleared his throat for action.
The rest were all behind him, and so escaped notice. Then each one took out his handkerchief and dammed up that organ which is the seat of laughter. By this means they succeeded in choking back all their merriment, and behaved so well that poor George was highly gratified.
It must have been a comical sight to Bob Herriman in his tree. At all events, he gazed at the different actors with open mouth and ears, while the Sage delivered the following:
ADDRESS TO THE BENIGN SPIRITS OF RIVERS AND STREAMS.
O, all ye spirits, sprites, and elves, come, listen unto me,
A humble mortal who would seek light on some points from ye.
To me ’tis known, bright roving sprites, that countless treasures rust