“THE LEGEND OF MARIA SANCHEZ CREEK.
“Maria Sanchez
Her dug-out launches,
And down the stream to catch some crabs she takes her way,
A Spanish maiden,
With crabs well laden;
When evening falls she lifts her trawls to cross the bay.
“Grim terror blanches
Maria Sanchez,
Who, not to put too fine a point, is rather brown;
A norther coming,
Already humming,
Doth bear away that Spanish mai—den far from town.
“Maria Sanchez,
Caught in the branches
That sweetly droop across a creek far down the coast,
That calm spectator,
The alligator,
Doth spy, then wait to call his mate, who rules the roast.
“She comes and craunches
Maria Sanchez,
While boat and crabs the gentle husband meekly chews.
How could they eat her,
That señorita,
Whose story still doth make quite ill the Spanish Muse?”
We heaped praises upon John’s pure Castilian ode—all save the Professor, who undertook to criticise a little. “I have made something of a study of poetry,” he began, “and I have noticed that much depends upon the selection of choice terms. For instance, in the first verse you make use of the local word ‘dug-out.’ Now in my opinion, ‘craft’ or ‘canoe’ would be better. You begin, if I remember correctly, in this way:
“ ‘Maria Sanchez
Launches her dug-out—’ ”
“Oh no, Professor,” said Sara; “this is it:
“ ‘Maria Sanchez
Her dug-out launches.’ ”
“The same idea, I opine, Miss St. John,” said the Professor, loftily.