Made for “Paul et Virginie”-- (so flimsy-tough those roads are), see The panniered donkey pass.... the reference is to a pastoral by Bernardin de Saint-Pierre, an old-fashioned French nursery-classic. It is a sentimental record of true love in the picturesquely savage Isle of Mauritius, a mixed flimsiness and toughness of story with which we may imagine the format of Miss Sitwell’s school-room copy to have been analogous--heavy gilt binding and the usual flimsy French paper. This is a little more than a family joke, but certainly not a popular one. A poem by Mr. Eliot may be quoted in full as an example of how limited the humorous appeal of modernist verse may become. The extreme particularity of some of the references may be called the teasing element of modernist wit. Here is our poor understanding of the poem. We do not pretend to be wise to all the jokes in Mr. Eliot’s poem; undoubtedly the pertinaceous and joke-shrewd reader will be able to carry the scent further; and of course Mr. Eliot himself could, if pressed, make everything clear: BURBANK WITH A BAEDEKER: BLEISTEIN WITH A CIGAR. Tra-la-la-la-la-la-laire--nil nisi divinum stabile est; caetera fumus--the gondola stopped, the old palace was there, how charming its grey and pink--goats and monkeys with such hair too!--so the countess passed on until she came through the little park, where Niobe presented her with a casket, and so departed. Burbank crossed a little bridge Descending at a small hotel; Princess Volupine arrived, They were together, and he fell. Defunctive music under sea Passed seaward with the passing bell Slowly: the God Hercules Had left him, that had loved him well The horses, under the axle-tree Beat up the dawn from Istria With even feet. Her shuttered barge Burned on the water all the day.