MUNICH.
OU couldn’t do it again!” I never repeat myself. It would indeed lower my “crest of haught” to find such barrenness or stinginess of entertaining powers as that shows. “Madam, there be those more gifted who make a point of repetition; it is set quite above your contempt,” will you say? Do not I know that? I can quote you the prettiest kink in rhyme “o’ that side of the question.” Listen:
“That’s your wise thrush; he sings his song twice over,
Lest you should think he never could recapture
That first, wild, passionate rapture.”
And I could show you in the daintiest script where one “not all unknown to fame,” a latter-day writer of much popularity, as I have seen stated, raves and raves again over “the sweet widows.” Such things stare me in the face and might silence me, so potent is the force of example. But was ever woman made so meek and yet so set in her own way? Even your taunt does not goad me to a second letter of “the altogethery” type. I—I think indeed I only wish to show you I know the trick of that style without the help of wine or whisky. Pitiable pair, your Byron and Sheridan! Please, sir, you insist upon my style so much, you wonder more and more where I picked it up. I am urged to ask, is it all style and no sense? I am sure I told you once I picked it up where I picked up my brains. I don’t see why you do not accept that statement. You will never get nearer the truth, will you?
“True it is, and pity ’t is ’t is true.”
I re-read the passage at once, and it reads just as I wrote you—“in,” not “within.” I reckon you’ll have to come down, “Capting Scott;” not I “cushion my claws.” But a victory is twice a victory when the victor is generous. I shall not sing peans over your “altogetheriness.” “Poetical justice” is divine when it is on the right side of the river.
How you linger in the land of enchantment! Who would not under the same witchery? “The divine weather” and Hood will help us out—
“Oh! there’s nothing in life like making love,
Save making hay in fine weather.”