“I don’t read much poetry,” admitted Will Benton.
“Well, I’ve often thought of those lines in regard to Dora, only I make them read:
“‘And beauty born of heavenly thought
Hath passed into her face.’
Good old Ben said she was an angel. If she isn’t she is, as the gentlemanly druggists say, ‘something just as good.’”
“Beware of imitations,” said John Rieler.
Whereupon to the manifest discomfort of those in the boat, John and Clarence set playfully to punching each other.
“Well,” sighed Clarence, as he jumped from the boat at the Campion landing, “now for a quiet hour before going to bed.”
“Don’t forget supper,” said John.
“I don’t; but that is a quiet affair.”