And the old Italian frauds," he said;
"But the little something that means so much
Still waits;" and he gave an anguished clutch
At his mop-crowned head.
He went to the further side of the room
And flecked the canvas with daubs of mud;
He wiped it down with a housemaid's broom,
And gummed in the middle a jackdaw's plume
And a ha'penny stud.
He put on his motor-bicycling mask,