M. Speranza.

The following forenoon he posted that poem to the editor of The Cape Cod
Item. And three weeks later it appeared in the pages of that journal.
Of course there was no pecuniary recompense for its author, and the fact
was indisputable that the Item was generally only too glad to publish
contributions which helped to fill its columns. But, nevertheless,
Albert Speranza had written a poem and that poem had been published.

CHAPTER VII

It was Rachel who first discovered "To My Lady's Spring Hat" in the Item
three weeks later. She came rushing into the sitting room brandishing
the paper.

"My soul! My soul! My soul!" she cried.

Olive, sitting sewing by the window, was, naturally, somewhat startled.
"Mercy on us, Rachel!" she exclaimed. "What IS it?"

"Look!" cried the housekeeper, pointing to the contribution in the
"Poets' Corner" as Queen Isabella may have pointed at the evidence of
her proteges discovery of a new world. "LOOK!"

Mrs. Snow looked, read the verses to herself, and then aloud.

"Why, I declare, they're real sort of pretty, ain't they?" she
exclaimed, in astonished admiration.

"Pretty! They're perfectly elegant! And right here in the paper for all
hands to see. Ain't you PROUD of him, Mrs. Snow?"

Olive had been growing more and more proud of her handsome grandson ever
since his arrival. She was prouder still now and said so. Rachel nodded,
triumphantly.

"He'll be a Robert Penfold afore he dies, or I miss MY guess!" she
declared.

She showed it to feminine acquaintances all over town, and Olive, when
callers came, took pains to see that a copy of the Item, folded with the
"Poets' Corner" uppermost, lay on the center table. Customers, dropping
in at the office, occasionally mentioned the poem to its author.

"See you had a piece in the Item, Al," was their usual way of referring
to it. "Pretty cute piece 'twas, too, seemed to me. Say, that girl of
yours must have SOME spring bunnit. Ho, ho!"

Issachar deigned to express approval, approval qualified with discerning
criticism of course, but approval nevertheless.

"Pretty good piece, Al," he observed. "Pretty good. Glad to see you done
so well. Course you made one little mistake, but 'twan't a very big one.
That part where you said--What was it, now? Where'd I put that piece of
poetry? Oh, yes, here 'tis! Where you said--er--er--

'It floats upon her golden curls
As froth upon the wave.'

Now of cours