"The dear children came on board to greet us—all well, and very happy at our return."
Thus ends the story, seven months of wonder and of delight.
At her Club, soon after, she gave the following epitome of the trip, singing the doggerel lines to an improvised tune which matched them in absurdity:—
Oh! who were the people you saw, Mrs. Howe,
When you went where the Cretans were making a row?
Kalopathaki—Rodocanachi—
Paparipopoulos—Anagnostopoulos—
Nicolaïdes—Paraskevaïdes—
These were the people that saw Mrs. Howe
When she went where the Cretans were making a row.
Oh! what were the projects you made, Mrs. Howe,
When you went where the Cretans were making a row?
Emancipation—civilization—redintegration of a great nation,
Paying no taxes, grinding no axes—
Flinging the Ministers over the banisters.
These were the projects of good Mrs. Howe
When she went where the Cretans were making a row.
* * * * * *
Oh! give us a specimen, dear Mrs. Howe,
Of the Greek that you learned and are mistress of now.
Potichomania—Mesopotamia.
Tatterdemalion—episcopalian—
Megalotherium—monster inferium—
Scoulevon—auctrion—infant phenomenon.
Kyrie ticamete—what's your calamity?
Pallas Athenae Aun,
Favors no Fenian.
Such is the language that learned Mrs. Howe,
In the speech of the Gods she is mistress of now.
CHAPTER XIII
CONCERNING CLUBS
1867-1871; aet. 48-52
"Behold," he said, "Life's great impersonate,
Nourished by labor!
Thy gods are gone with old-time faith and fate;
Here is thy Neighbor."
J. W. H., "A New Sculptor."