"Not good enough, I'm afraid," said the poem. "In fact I've been out and back again seven times already."
"Guess what I am," said a sentimental murmur.
"Any one could guess that," was the gruff reply. "You're a love-letter."
"Quite right," said the sentimental murmur. "But how clever of you!"
"Well," said another, "you're not the only love-letter here. I'm a love-letter too."
"How do you begin?" asked the first.
"I begin, 'My Darling,'" said the second love-letter.
"That's nothing," said the first; "I begin, 'My Ownest Own.'"
"I don't think much of either of those beginnings," said a new voice. "I begin, 'Most Beautiful.'"
"You're from a man, I suppose?" said the second love-letter.