Just six on either side,

That woggle when you shake your head—

Oh, will you be my bride?”

“Isn’t the last line rather abrupteous?” inquired One-and-Nine when he had finished.

[Original]

“Why, that’s the best part about it,” replied the Public Rhymester. “You see you pop the question so suddenly that you quite take the lady by storm—and that line comparing her to ‘other girls’ is very wise, you know; she is sure to feel flattered at that.”

“Do you think that I ought to sign my name at the bottom of it?” asked One-and-Nine, folding the paper up neatly.

“I shouldn’t if I were you,” replied the Public Rhymester. “You can see what effect this has upon the lady, and if you think that she is pleased, I should follow it up with another, but I shouldn’t sign my name at first; it will make it a little mysterious, you know, and ladies like that sort of thing, I am told. But now I must be off. Good-night. You won’t forget to do the best you can for me to-morrow, will you?” and the Public Rhymester hurried away with his enormous handkerchief tucked under his arm, while One-and-Nine sealed up the Poem—after adding the following words, which he thought might improve it: