detached three sets of the eight illustrated and illuminated
pages on which it was printed, had the sheets inlaid in hand-made paper and
neatly bound. This was accomplished with the sage advice of my old
playmate, Frank M. Morris, the bookman of Chicago. One of these volumes was
made for Mr. Allison, (so that he would surely have at least one copy of
his own poem), a second was for my bookish friend, James F. Joseph, then of
Chicago and now of Indianapolis, and a third was for my own library. The
mere fact that Allison was five years autographing my particular copy has
no bearing whatever in this discussion, but leads me to say that I felt
amply repaid in the end by this very handsome inscription on the fly-leaf:

This Volume,
No. 1

of the limited private edition of "On Board the Derelict," is
for the private delight of my dear friend,

Champion Ingraham Hitchcock,

the publisher and designer thereof--appreciative guide,
counselor and encourager of other excursions into "the higher
altitudes,"--with all love and long memory

Christmas, 1906. YOUNG E. ALLISON.

Well, because "Derelict" was a delight and Allison my friend, I gave away
_Rubrics_ by the score and, among others, saw that a copy went to Wallace
Rice, literatus--and Chicago book reviewer--to whom I owe an everlasting
debt of gratitude for precious moments saved by good advice on modern stuff
not to read. In presenting "Derelict," the _Rubric_ publishers left an
impression that the poem had but then been completed[9] for its pages. I
knew better; Wallace had read it before, in whole or in part and raised a
question. It so worked upon me that later I decided to submit it to Allison
himself. Sometimes we do things, and know not why, that have a very
distinct later and wholly unexpected bearing upon situations, and when the
opportunity for this volume arose, the memory that I had saved Allison's
penciled reply came over me. A patient search had its reward. Here is the
letter[10] written with the same old lead pencil on the same old spongy
copy paper:

Louisville Feb. 22, 1902.
Dear Hitch:

My supposition is that the _Rubric_ folks misunderstood or have
been misunderstood. The Dead Man's Song was first written about 10
years ago--3 verses--and Henry Waller set it to music & it was