“Wonderful! The only place where you can breathe the air of divinity!”
“Very well, Uncle. We will settle there, and hasten to become poets.”
“It wouldn’t be a bad idea, I say, to start again with your honourable ‘Lotos Eaters!’”
“‘Paradise Lost’ shall be my next subject.”
“If nobody publishes it?”
“I will present it solemnly to our Empress. She is a poetess, you know.”
My uncle went to see Mr. Poet.
30th—Uncle said that the poet said: “You are welcome, sir. The cottage for your young lady lies by one willow tree. The waters, the air, the grand view, are God’s. It costs a wee bit of money to provide the best coffee. I tell you that my claret is superb. You shall be my guest as long as you please. Present my love to Miss Morning Glory! Everything will be ready when you come.”
“Isn’t he adorable?” I ejaculated.
I stirred my trunk, and sifted out the things needful for my adventure.