“Oh, no. It’s after the same rhythm as ‘Mary had a little lamb.’”
“What do you mean? If you cast a slur upon them they will prosecute you.”
“I said nothing detrimental. I simply meant to convey the impression that they wrote in a popular vein.”
“I see. But at that rate you ought to quote the poet-laureate.”
There was a silence till someone queried, rather quietly,—
“What’s his name?”
“Don’t know,” answered the one who had first spoken. “He hasn’t got one. He doesn’t believe in that sort of thing. He leaves it to the lady novelists who won’t have their photo taken.”
“What does he believe in?”
“Blank verse and popular ballads,
Chip potatoes and lettuce salads.”