you know," he said, "I always look on the banjo as the American among musical instruments. It is the guitar with a twang. Wasn't it invented in the States? Anyhow it is the most appropriate instrument to which to sing you my Fin de Siècle Love Song."

[pg 25] "For Heaven's sake, don't use that poor overworked phrase!"

[pg 25]

"Why not? It has only a few years to live. List to my sonnet."

So saying, he strummed the strings and sang in an aristocratic baritone:

AD CHLOEN.—A Valedictory.

A Valedictory.

O Chloe, you are very, very dear,

And far above your rivals in the town,

Who all in vain essay to beat you down,

Embittered by your haughtiness austere.

Too high you are for lowly me, I fear.

You would not stoop to pick up e'en a crown,

Nor cede the slightest lowering of a gown,

Though in men's eyes far fairer to appear.

With this my message, kindly current go,

At half-penny per word—it should be less—

To Chloe, telegraphical address

(Thus written to economize two d)

Of Messrs. Robinson, De Vere & Co.,

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