Is he regular with his diary?
Possibly he is idle with a pen, like any other professor.
Let me scribble for him to-day!
My one bottle of ink has some time to dry up yet.
I will name it “The Cave Journal.” I will leave it to the Professor for a souvenir upon my sayonara to this hill.
A
Where are my spectacles?
B
Upon my soul, I believe that some mischief is raging. I can never trust even the poet abode. Who stole my two-cent stamp?
God bless you, my precious daughter at Sierra Nevada!