The Idiot laughed. "I see you're on," he said. "Anyhow, it's good sentiment, whether I wrote it or Biggs. Fact is, in my judgment, what the poet of to-day ought to do is to collect the long green from the present and the laurel from posterity. That's a fair division. But what do you say to my proposition?" "Well, it's certainly--er--cheeky enough," said the Poet. "Do I understand it?--you want me to father your poems. To tell the truth, until I hear some of them, I can't promise to be more than an uncle to them." "That's all right," said the Idiot. "You ought to be cautious, as a matter of protection to your own name. I've got some of the goods right here. Here's a little thing called 'Summer-tide!' It shows the whole 'Now' principle in a nutshell. Listen to this: "Now the festive frog is croaking in the mere, And the canvasback is honking in the bay, And the summer-girl is smiling full of cheer On the willieboys that chance along her way. "Now the skeeter sings his carols to the dawn, And bewails the early closing of the bar That prevents the little nips he seeks each morn On the sea-shore where the fatling boarders are. "Now the landlord of the pastoral hotel Spends his mornings, nights, and eke his afternoons, Scheming plans to get more milk from out the well, And a hundred novel ways of cooking prunes. "Now the pumpkin goes a pumpking through the fields, And the merry visaged cows are chewing cud; And the profits that the plumber's business yields Come a-tumbling to the earth with deadly thud. "And from all of this we learn the lesson sweet, The soft message of Dame Nature, grand and clear, That the winter-time is gone with storm and sleet, And the soft and jolly summer-tide is here. How's that? Pretty fair?" "Well, I might consent to be a cousin to a poem of that kind. I've read worse and written some that are quite as bad. But you know, Mr. Idiot, even so great a masterpiece as that won't make a book," said the Poet. "Of course it won't," retorted the Idiot. "That's only for the summer. Here's another one on winter. Just listen: "Now the man who deals in mittens and in tabs Is a-smiling broadly--aye, from ear to ear-- As he reaches out his hand and fondly grabs All the shining, golden shekels falling near. "Now the snow lies on the hill-side and the roof, And the birdling to the sunny southland flies; While the frowning summer landlord stands aloof, And to solemncholy meditation hies. "Now the tinkling of the sleigh-bells tinge the air, And the coal-man is as happy as can be; While the hulking, sulking, grizzly seeks his lair, And the ice-man's soul is filled with misery.