The Senor looked
gratified, but unfortunately placed that respect the next moment in
peril.
"You were possibly glancing over these verses," he said, with a
hesitating and almost awkward diffidence, indicating the manuscript
Hurlstone had just thrown aside. "It is merely the first rough draft
of a little tribute I had begun to a charming friend. I sometimes," he
interpolated, with an apologetic smile, "trifle with the Muse. Perhaps I
ought not to use the word 'trifle' in connection with a composition of
a threnodial and dirge-like character," he continued deprecatingly.
"Certainly not in the presence of a gentleman as accomplished and
educated as yourself, to whom recreation of this kind is undoubtedly
familiar. My occupations have been, unfortunately, of a nature not
favorable to the indulgence of verse. As a college man yourself, my dear
sir, you will probably forgive the lucubrations of an old graduate of
William and Mary's, who has forgotten his 'ars poetica.' The verses you
have possibly glanced at are crude, I am aware, and perhaps show the
difficulty of expressing at once the dictates of the heart and the
brain. They refer to a dear friend now at peace.
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