Howls the sublime, and softly sleeps the calm
Ideal, in the whispering chambers of Imagination. To hear it, sweet
it is. But then, outlaughs the stern philosopher, and saith to the
Grotesque, "What ho! arrest for me that Agency. Go, bring it here!" And
so the vision fadeth.'
After this, they both took Mr Pogram by the hand, and pressed it to
their lips, as a patriotic palm. That homage paid, the mother of the
modern Gracchi called for chairs, and the three literary ladies went to
work in earnest, to bring poor Pogram out, and make him show himself in
all his brilliant colours.
How Pogram got out of his depth instantly, and how the three L. L.'s
were never in theirs, is a piece of history not worth recording. Suffice
it, that being all four out of their depths, and all unable to swim,
they splashed up words in all directions, and floundered about famously.
On the whole, it was considered to have been the severest mental
exercise ever heard in the National Hotel. Tears stood in the shrill
boy's eyes several times; and the whole company observed that their
heads ached with the effort--as well they might.
Pages:
1002
1003
1004
1005
1006
1007
1008
1009
1010
1011
1012
1013
1014
1015
1016
1017
1018
1019
1020
1021
1022
1023
1024
1025
1026