I don’t exactly know what he did mean by that, and I don’t believe he did.
“Then,” sez I, “he wuz the greatest talker that ever talked. He would talk for hours and hours, without gittin’ up, or those gittin’ up that heard him.”
“I know what that is,” sez Josiah; “that don’t raise him in my estimation; no, Heaven knows it don’t!”
I hain’t the least idee what he meant by that, but he found immegiately that I wouldn’t multiply any more words with him.
But, as I sez, it wuz a comfort to visit this hant of Southey, and I wuzn’t goin’ to see him run down too much for enlargin’ a little mite about the power of that waterfall; as I sez to Josiah—
“Sunthin’ ort to be allowed for a poet’s license.”
“Oh, yes, that is so; I didn’t think of it,” sez he. “I thought it wuz a barefaced lie. I see,” sez he; “I make use of one of them poet’s licenses myself sometimes; I forgot.”
Wall, the waters did meander down in a very languishin’ and thin sort of a way, and I couldn’t deny it, but the surroundin’s wuz beautiful and the associations hantin’ and powerful in the extreme.
Wall, while we wuz in that neighborhood I see everything I could of the remains of the Lake School of Poets. I told Josiah I wanted to, and he sez—
“Wall, I d’no as I’m a-goin’ to make much of a effort to see their hants.” Sez he, “Probble they got that name, Lake Poet, because their poetry hain’t no bigger accordin’ than the lakes be, and if that is so, I don’t want to patronize ’em.”