“No, indeed,” declared Dick, replenishing the guest’s plate. Although he had been talking almost constantly since sitting down, the Poet had managed to do full justice to the viands. Harry was at first pained to observe that his table manners did not match his speech; he relied rather too much on his knife, for one thing, while there was also a marked tendency to fill the mouth somewhat too full and to talk while it was in that condition. But presently Harry recollected that the poets of whom she had read had all been notably eccentric and, in some cases, even more disregardful of the social niceties than Mr. Noon. “Are you going to be here long?” asked Roy when the visitor’s wants had been attended to. “I hardly know,” was the reply. “It is a convenient spot and very attractive and peaceful. I love peace and Nature. I have led rather a busy life heretofore, and now to sleep under the trees when I want to, to lie on my back in the sunlight, to watch the water ripple past the boat--these are delights for which my soul has long yearned.” Harry breathed a sigh of ecstasy and forgot then and there that the Poet had ever been a dentist. “Then you’re just camping out?” asked Dick curiously. Mr. Noon waved a slice of bread airily and smiled gently across the twilight water. “I am combining business with pleasure, sir. After the day’s work is over I am the owner of the yacht _Minerva_, taking a pleasure cruise down the Hudson River. During the day I am an agent for the enlightenment of mankind and more especially for Billings’ ‘Wonders of the Deep.’” “You’re a book agent!” exclaimed Dick. Mr. Noon bowed. “Right the first time! Although I prefer the word canvasser. I am selling sets of Billings’ great work, I may say his masterpiece--” “Seth Billings!” cried Chub. “On the contrary, I believe his given name is Horace,” replied Mr. Noon. Whereupon they explained about the words found on the back of the slip of paper and their interpretation of them. Mr. Noon found this interesting and amusing, but not enough so to divert his attention from the supper. Harry pressed preserves and cake on him and he politely helped himself generously. “It must be hard work,” said Roy. “Selling books, I mean.”