"Gents all," said Olejoe, who had little knowledge of and regard for the stateliness of blank verse, "as man to man I’m obliged to you. If I’ve done anything that I oughtn’t have done I ask your pardon. I’ve had me dooty to do an’ I’ve done the same to the best of my ability. I’ve always found you to be gentlemen, an’ if any one sez contrary, it’ll be like water on a duck’s back—in at one ear an’ out at the other. If I can ever do you a turn as far as lays in me power, I’m ready an’ willin’, an’ with these few remarks I thank you one an’ all," which was a highly creditable speech. So passed Olejoe, and I would that no further necessity existed for introducing him again, so that I might emphasize my protest against convention in art. "The House will now go into committee," said the Duke, "on a purely personal matter—Hank, I’m feeling most horribly worried." "If it’s the eternal feminine woman," said Hank rising quickly, "as I’ve got a hunch it is, you’ll find me in the back lot plantin’ snowdrops." "You’re beastly unsympathetic," complained the indignant Duke, "here are two loving hearts——" "Anatomy," said Hank at the doorway, "is a science I’ve no love for since the day the Dago doctor of Opothocas Mex. amputated my little toe under the mistaken impression that ptomaine poisonin’ was somethin’ to do with the feet." "What we’ve got to do now," said Tuppy, when the unromantic Hank had disappeared, "is to get somethin’ particularly touchin’, I’m afraid I’ve spoilt the other letters, by unintelligently anticipatin’ the contents." "What an ass you were, Tuppy," said the Duke testily, and Tuppy cheerfully agreed. For two hours they sat composing the wonder working epistle. "To whom it may concern," it was addressed, and began "What is life? says Emerson." "That’s a fool start," said Tuppy. "Why drag in old man Emerson anyway?" "Can you suggest a better?" asked the Duke tartly. "What’s the matter with this," asked Tuppy, "you know the Tennyson stuff." He knit his forehead in the effort of remembrance. Then he recited, filling in the blanks as well as he could— It’s jolly true tum-tum befall, I feel it tum-tum tum-tum most; It’s better to have loved a gal Than never to have loved at all! "Rotten," said the Duke. "I don’t think I have quite got the lines right," Tuppy owned, "but any feller can see the drift of the thing." "If ever I write poetry, Tuppy," said the Duke solemnly, "I should be very grateful if you would refrain from quoting it." The Emerson opening was allowed to stand. Tuppy made another determined effort to introduce a flower of poetry into the letter when it was nearing completion. "Look here, Monty. Why not work in that bit about Love to a girl is a thing apart, ’Tis a feller’s whole existence?" "Partly," said the Duke, "out of respect for the dead, whom you are misquoting. It runs ’Love to a _man_ is a thing impart!’" "She wouldn’t know the difference," said the sanguine lord.