There, Mr. Guldstad, I must break a lance! I’ve heard as long as I can recollect, Most worthy people speak with great respect Of Pastor Strawman and his life’s romance. GULDSTAD [_laughing_]. Romance? MISS JAY. Romance! I call a match romantic At which mere worldly wisdom looks askance. FALK. You make my curiosity gigantic. MISS JAY [_continuing_]. But certain people always grow splenetic— Why, goodness knows—at everything pathetic, And scoff it down. We all know how, of late, An unfledged, upstart undergraduate Presumed, with brazen insolence, to declare That “William Russell” was a poor affair! FALK. But what has this to do with Strawman, pray? Is he a poem, or a Christian play? MISS JAY [_with tears of emotion_]. No, Falk,—a man, with heart as large as day. But when a—so to speak—mere lifeless thing Can put such venom into envy’s sting, And stir up evil passions fierce and fell Of such a depth— FALK [_sympathetically_]. And such a length as well— MISS JAY. Why then, a man of your commanding brain Can’t fail to see— FALK. Oh yes, that’s very plain. But hitherto I haven’t quite made out The nature, style, and plot of this romance. It’s something quite delightful I’ve no doubt— But just a little inkling in advance— STIVER. I will abstract, in rapid _résumé_, The leading points. MISS JAY. No, I am more _au fait_, I know the ins and outs— MRS. HALM. I know them too! MISS JAY. Oh Mrs. Halm! now let me tell it, do! Well, Mr. Falk, you see—he passed at college For quite a miracle of wit and knowledge, Had admirable taste in books and dress— MRS. HALM. And acted—privately—with great success. MISS JAY. Yes, wait a bit—he painted, played and wrote— MRS. HALM. And don’t forget his gift of anecdote. MISS JAY. Do give me time; I know the whole affair: He made some verses, set them to an air, Also his own,—and found a publisher. O heavens! with what romantic melancholy He played and sang his “Madrigals to Molly”!