So perchance if you’re ambitious in a literary line,

Be as dull as e’er you can be, you will surely cut a shine,

If you’ll only take advantage of this opportunity,

When you’re passing by to stop in for a little chat with me.

You may ask me, in conclusion, why I do not seek myself

All the laurel and the glory of these seeds I sell for pelf.

I will tell you, though the confidence I can’t deny is rash,

I’m a trifle long on laurels, and a little short of cash.

THE AUTHOR’S BOOMERANG

He frowns with reason; he has always said,

He

“The public has no knowledge of true art;

The book of worth these days would not be read;

’Tis trash not truth that goes upon the mart.”

And then was published his belovéd work—

Some twenty-six editions it has had—

And he his own conclusion cannot shirk:

With such success as this it must be bad!

TO AN EGOTISTICAL BIOGRAPHER

I’ve read your story of your friend’s fine life,

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