The reader paused,--the Teacups knew his ways,-- He, like the rest, was not averse to praise. Voices and hands united; every one Joined in approval: "Number Three, well done!" "Now for the Exile's story; if my wits Are not at fault, his curious record fits Neatly as sequel to the tale we've heard; Not wholly wild the fancy, nor absurd That this our island hermit well might be That story's hero, fled from over sea. Come, Number Seven, we would not have you strain The fertile powers of that inventive brain. Read us 'The Exile's Secret'; there's enough Of dream-like fiction and fantastic stuff In the strange web of mystery that invests The lonely isle where sea birds build their nests." "Lies! naught but lies!" so Number Seven began,-- No harm was known of that secluded man. He lived alone,--who would n't if he might, And leave the rogues and idiots out of sight? A foolish story,--still, I'll do my best,-- The house was real,--don't believe the rest. How could a ruined dwelling last so long Without its legends shaped in tale and song? Who was this man of whom they tell the lies? Perhaps--why not?--NAPOLEON! in disguise,-- So some said, kidnapped from his ocean coop, Brought to this island in a coasting sloop,-- Meanwhile a sham Napoleon in his place Played Nap. and saved Sir Hudson from disgrace. Such was one story; others used to say, "No,--not Napoleon,--it was Marshal Ney." "Shot?" Yes, no doubt, but not with balls of lead, But balls of pith that never shoot folks dead. He wandered round, lived South for many a year, At last came North and fixed his dwelling here. Choose which you will of all the tales that pile Their mingling fables on the tree-crowned isle. Who wrote this modest version I suppose That truthful Teacup, our Dictator, knows; Made up of various legends, it would seem, The sailor's yarn, the crazy poet's dream. Such tales as this, by simple souls received, At first are stared at and at last believed; From threads like this the grave historians try To weave their webs, and never know they lie. Hear, then, the fables that have gathered round The lonely home an exiled stranger found. THE EXILE'S SECRET