And now I fear to ope my babbling mouth Lest I should put my clumsy foot therein. COUNT LUIE: My honest frend, for so I speak thee fair, Since thou hast from thy shoulders ever cast That damning cloak, Republican in woof. And armor of Democracy hast donned, Fear not that words so deep an import bear. The mob applauds today, but quick forgets. I once, before we kenned our party's stand, Did lightly tongue imperialistic thoughts. The throng did loud applaud my eloquence, Which made demand that Filipinos here Should be debarred, when they procession form, From proudly marching 'neath their flag of state. And now my tender bowels do me gripe As I reflect that this tyrannic act Runs counter to the doctrines thou dost teach, Because, you bet, "they know just what they want." SIR WINDBAG: But will the rabble not thy words recall, And like to mud, flung from the grutter deep, Will they not sore disfigure and besmirch Thy reputation for consistency? COUNT LUIE: Fear not; we who do ornament the bar Can twist and turn as doth the shuttle-cock, And in our mouths today words have a ring Which changes with tomorrow's rising sun. SIR WINDBAG: I quick discern the import of thy speech, And in the past have seen it verified. If mem'ries of the people were not short, Disaster to us patriots would befall. When like a parson one can slip the tongue And speed it like a race-horse on its course, 'Tis well; but let some ill-bred boor Bold interruption make, in query's form, The discourse of its symmetry is shorn, While bond of sympathy 'twixt him who speaks And those who list receives a brutral shock, Which doth demand dexterity to soothe. Thus, when I wisdom spouted at the club, A man most pestulent did query put Anent the spreading of our civic rule O'er Moros, if it proved to be the case That they demur and, "knowing what they want," Prefer to rule themselves in custom's groove. I, loyal to the ethics of our craft Tried to becloud the query, and declared That Moros loved the Filipinos well. But this persistent boor did pin me down Until imprudently I answered, "No!" And this unwisdom now doth trouble me. COUNT LUIE: But, gentle Windbag, these were idle words Which on the record have no place. 'Twere well To quick erase them from the memory: Words only spoken vanish into air.