ountry we poets are all so reserved, so shy, so taciturn.

"You know Pond, the lecture man in New York, was telling me a quaint
story about Masefield. Great friend of mine, old Jan Masefield. He
turned up in New York to talk at some show Pond was running. Had on some
horrible old trench boots. There was only about twenty minutes before
the show began. 'Well,' says Pond, hoping Jan was going to change his
clothes, 'are you all ready?' 'Oh, yes,' says Jan. Pond was graveled;
didn't know just what to do. So he says, hoping to give Jan a hint,
'Well, I've just got to get my boots polished.' Of course, they didn't
need it--Americans' boots never do--but Pond sits down on a
boot-polishing stand and the boy begins to polish for dear life. Jan
sits down by him, deep in some little book or other, paying no
attention. Pond whispers to the boy, 'Quick, polish his boots while he's
reading.' Jan was deep in his book, never knew what was going on. Then
they went off to the lecture, Jan in his jolly old sack suit."

We went up to a private gallery on Walnut Street, where some of the most
remarkable literary treasures in the world are stored, such as the
original copy of Elia given by Charles Lamb to the lady he wanted to
marry, Fanny Kelly. There we also saw some remarkable first editions of
Shelley.

"You know," he said, "Mrs. L---- in New York--I had an introduction to
her from Jan--wanted to give me a first edition of Shelley, but I
wouldn't let her."

"How do you fellows get away with it?" we said again humbly.

"Well, old man," he said, "I must be going. Mustn't keep Vachel waiting.
Is this where I train? What a ripping station! Some day I must write a
poem about all this. What a pity you have so few poets ..."

A GOOD HOME IN THE SUBURBS

There are a number of empty apartments in the suburbs of our mind that
we shall be glad to rent to any well-behaved ideas.

These apartments (unfurnished) all have southern exposure and are
reasonably well lighted. They have emergency exits.

We prefer middle-aged, reasonable ideas that have outgrown the diseases
of infancy. No ideas need apply that will lie awake at night and disturb
the neighbors, or will come home very late and wake the other tenants.
This is an orderly mind, and no gambling, loud laughter and carnival or
Pomeranian dogs will be admitted.

If necessary, the premises can be improved to suit high-class tenants.

No lease longer than six months can be gi