Dr. Gunsaulus: "The contributions will be hardly complete without a box of those matches with which Brother Stryker wanted to kindle a bonfire which was to consume the body of the heretical Briggs. But speaking of that novel of mine ('Monk and Knight') reminds me that I wrote a poem on the railway the other day, and I will read it now if there be no objection." (Cries of 'Read it,' 'Go ahead.') "The poem, humble as it is, was suggested by seeing a fellow-passenger fall asleep over his volume of Bion and Moschus. This is the way it goes: _Wake, wake him not; the book lies in his hands-- Bion and Moschus smile within his sleep; Tired of our world, he lives in other lands-- Wanders in Greece, where fauns and satyrs leap. Dull, even sweet, the rumble of the train-- 'Tis Circe singing near her golden loom; No garish lamps afflicted his charmed brain-- Demeter's poppies brighten o'er her tomb. But half-awake he looks on starlit trees-- Sees but the huntress in her eager chase; Wake, wake him not upon the fragrant breeze, Let horn and hound announce her rapid pace. Blithe shepherds pipe within the Dorian vales, Hellenic airs blow through their sun-bright hair, To him alone the wooers whisper tales-- Bloomed kind Calypso's islet ne'er so fair. Unbanished gods roam o'er the thymy hills, Calm shadows slumber on the purple grapes, Hid are the dryads near the star-gemmed rills, Far through the moonlight wander love-lorn shapes. Gray olives shade the dancing-naiads' smile, Flutes loose their raptures in the murmuring stream, These, these are visions modern cares beguil-- Echoes of the old Greek's dream._" Mr. Stryker: "That is good poetry, Brother Gunsaulus. If you would tone it down a little, and contrive to work in a touch of piety here and there, I would be glad to print it in my next volume of hymns." Mr. H.B. Smith: "I did not suppose that our reverend Brother Gunsaulus ever attempted poetry. His verses have that grace and lilt that are the prime essentials to successful comic-opera libretto writing. When I want a collaborateur, I shall know whom to apply to." Mr. Bristol: "The brother's poem indicates the influence of the Homer school. Can it be possible that our Plymouth Church friend has fallen into the snare spread for him by the designing members of the South Side Hellenic organization?" Dr. Gunsaulus: "Since Brother Bristol seems so anxious to know, I will admit that I have recently joined the Armour Commandery of the South Side Sons of Homer."