_Sphinx._ You must really excuse me. I am not in good voice. By the way, the "Gilded Barge," as you call it, was merely a shabby sort of punt. It would have had no effect whatever at the Henley Regatta. _Poet._ Dear me! Is it true you played golf among the Pyramids? _Sphinx_ (_emphatically_). Perfectly untrue. You see what absurd reports get about! _Poet_ (_softly_). They do. What was that story about the Tyrian? _Sphinx._ Merely gossip. There was nothing in it, I assure you. _Poet._ And APIS? _Sphinx._ Oh, he sent me some flowers, and there were paragraphs about it--in hieroglyphs--in the society papers. That was all. But they were contradicted. _Poet._ You knew AMMON very well, I believe? _Sphinx_ (_frankly_). AMMON and I _were_ great pals. I used to see a good deal of him. He came in to tea very often--he was _quite_ interesting. But I have not seen him for a long time. He had one fault--he _would_ smoke in the drawing-room. And though I hope I am not too conventional, I really could not allow _that_. _Poet._ How pleased they would all be to see you again! Why do you not go over to Egypt for the winter? _Sphinx._ The hotels at Cairo are so dreadfully expensive. _Poet._ Is it true you went tunny-fishing with ANTONY? _Sphinx._ One must draw the line somewhere! CLEOPATRA was so cross. She was horribly jealous, and not nearly so handsome as you might suppose, though she _was_ photographed as a "type of Egyptian Beauty!" _Poet._ I must thank you very much for the courteous way in which you have replied to my questions. And now will you forgive me if I make an observation? In my opinion you are not a Sphinx at all. _Sphinx_ (_indignantly_). What am I, then? _Poet._ A Minx. * * * * * THE LAY OF THE EXPLORER. I USED to think that if a man In any character could score a Distinctly leonine success, 'Twould be as a returned explorer. So, when by sixteen tigers tree'd, Or when mad elephants were charging, I joyed to say--"On this, some day, My countrymen will be enlarging." And when mosquitoes buzzed and bit (For 'tis their pleasing nature to), Or fevers floored me, still this dream Helped me to suffer and to do. I _have_ returned! Whole dusky tribes I've wiped right out--such labour sweet is!-- And with innumerable chiefs Arranged unconscionable treaties. What's the result? I have become A butt for each humanitarian, Who call my exploits in the chase The work of a "confessed barbarian." And, worst of all, my rival, JONES, Who'd any trick that's low and mean dare, Cries--"Equatorial jungles! Pish! I don't believe he's ever been there!" So now I just "explore" Herne Bay, With trippers, niggers, nurses, babies: I've tried for fame. I 've gained it, too: I share it with the vanished JABEZ! * * * * *