244 MYSTIC ISLES 



I 'd insulted him with the work, askin' him, a nobleman, 

 to pander in the vegetable kingdom." 



"I know him. He was at Lovaina's," I interposed. 

 "He was at the bar all the time, quoting Pope and Dry- 

 den and himself. He said he was going around the 

 globe on a wager of a fortune. He was a poisonous 

 bore, and always popped up for a drink. By the way, 

 he wears a monocle." 



"You 've named him," went on the consul. "That 's 

 more of the cockney's pretense. Here's the poem he 

 wrote in the calaboose. He did it on his shirt-front be- 

 cause the economical French gave him no paper. Lon- 

 tane thought it might be his will or a plot, and brought 

 the shirt here, and I copied the accursed thing for my 

 record, as I am compelled to by the rules of the august 

 devils of Downing Street." 



The Home-Land Call 



Why wilt thou torture me with unripe call, 

 Bringing these visions of the dear old land? 

 Dost think 't is sweet to let thy mock'ry fall? 

 For me to hear forgotten noises in the Strand? 

 Insidious voice that will not grant my plea, 

 The mem'ry of thy pleasures dost remain : 

 Oxonian-Cantabs club; blue-lit Gaiety!" 



"What he needs is a permanent permit to patronize 

 the opium den the Government runs here for the Chi- 

 nese," said Hobson. "He 's off his dope." 



"Just a minute," continued the consul. "He claims 

 to be a lord and a millionaire. Here 's the letter. He 

 needs no opium to have nightmares : 



