“I take it upon me to say that he is a great poet. Because, in the first place, he never asked me yet, ‘Do poems pay in Japan?’
“It’s such a trying work for an old man like him to pose as a poet all the time.
“Poet is a sensitive creation. He fancies, I think, the whole world is staring at him. Poor Poet! He keeps up, and tries to be picturesque as he can.
“I am grieved to state, however, that his picturesqueness frequently drops into silliness.
“The absurd thing is that even my uncle takes a part in his farce.
“We had no meat to bite yesterday.
“The poet had no shot left for his gun.
“What did he plan, do you imagine?
“He went up the hill, shouldering his pick. My uncle retainered him with a spade.
“‘We will soon bring back a squirrel which we will dig out, Miss Morning Glory,’ the poet said.