k with him, having relinquished the
idea of publishing for the present. Master Byles Gridley, on the other
hand, had in his pocket a very flattering proposal, from the same
publisher to whom he had introduced the young poet, for a new and
revised edition of his work, "Thoughts on the Universe," which was to
be remodelled in some respects, and to have a new title not quite so
formidable to the average reader.

It would be hardly fair to Susan Posey to describe with what delight and
innocent enthusiasm she welcomed back Gifted Hopkins. She had been
so lonely since he was away? She had read such of his poems as she
possessed--duplicates of his printed ones, or autographs which he had
kindly written out for her--over and over again, not without the sweet
tribute of feminine sensibility, which is the most precious of all
testimonials to a poet's power over the heart. True, her love belonged
to another,--but then she was so used to Gifted! She did so love to hear
him read his poems,--and Clement had never written that "little bit of
a poem to Susie," which she had asked him for so long ago! She received
him therefore with open arms,--not literally, of course, which would
have been a breach of duty and propriety, but in a figurative sense,
which it is hoped no reader will interpret to her discredit.

The young poet was in need of consolation. It is true that he had seen
many remarkable sights during his visit to the city; that he had got
"smarted up," as his mother called it, a good deal; that he had been to
Mrs. Clymer Ketchum's party, where he had looked upon life in all its
splendors; and that he brought back many interesting experiences, which
would serve to enliven his conversation for a long time. But he had
failed in the great enterprise he had undertaken. He was forced to
confess to his revered parent, and his esteemed friend Susan Posey, that
his genius, which was freely acknowledged, was not thought to be quite
ripe as yet. He told the young lady some particulars of his visit to the
publisher, how he had listened with great interest to one of his
poems, "The Triumph of Song,"--how he had treated him with marked and
flattering attention; but that he advised him not to risk anything
prematurely, giving him the hope that by and by he would be admitted
into that series of illustrious authors which it was the publisher's
privilege to present to the reading public. In short, he was advised not
to print. That was the net t