“To Mr. Helgrams, my best dhudeen and the light of hope.
“To young Steady and to Mr. D. M., my poetic laurels, which they are to share in equal measure.
“To the boys in the printing-office, the consolation of not being obliged to set up my excruciating copy.
“To the tailors (and to the boss tailor in particular, ‘Little Italy,’) my very best pair of pants.
“To Jim of the laundry,—but nothing seems good enough for Jim, the best soul that ever walked.
“To Portfiro Alexio Gonzolio, a grip of the hand.
“To Davie, pie, pie again, and yet more pie.
“To the band boys—why, here’s to ’em! May they blow loose.
“To my fellow pedagogues, ‘More light,’ as Goethe put it, more fellowship; it would be impossible to wise them. They know where I stand and I know where they stand.
“Lawdy! lawdy! If I hadn’t forgotten Otto and his assistant. Here’s all kinds of luck to ’em, and no mistake about it.