After much bantering and urging, Benjamin proceeded to read his, apparently with much diffidence; and all listened with profound attention.
"You must read that again," said Osborne, when he finished reading it. "Two readings of such a poem as that are none too much. Come, read it again."
Benjamin read the article again, apparently with more confidence than at first.
"You surprise me, Ben," exclaimed Osborne, when the second reading was finished. "You are a genuine poet. I had no idea that you could write like that."
"Nor I," added Matson. "It is better than half the poetry that is printed. If the subject had not been given out, I don't know but I should have charged you with stealing it."
"What do you say, Ralph?" inquired Osborne. "You are a poet, and poets ought to be good judges of such matters." Another fling at Ralph's claim to poetical ability.
"I don't think it is entirely faultless," remarked Ralph, after some hesitation. "I think you have commended it full as highly as it deserves. Not being a born poet, however, I may not be a good judge," glancing his eye at Osborne.
"Well done, Ralph!" exclaimed Osborne. "Your opinion of that production is proof positive that you are destitute of real poetical taste, as I have told you before."
Osborne was fairly caught. Ralph and Benjamin exchanged glances, as if to inquire if their time of avowed triumph had not come; but both appeared to conclude to keep the secret a little longer. They controlled their risibles successfully, and allowed Osborne to go on and express himself still more strongly in favor of the composition.
Ralph walked home with Osborne, in order to play the game a little more, and their conversation was very naturally about Benjamin's poetry.