Page:Captain Craig; a book of poems.djvu/30

16 Your philhellenic proletariat— He! he!"—"But what the devil is it all About?" said I. "What has he done? What ails him?"— "What has he done? Ye gods! What has he done? Man, he's a tramp—a Waggles—a dead beat! I have a friend who knew him fifteen years Ago, and I have his assurance now That your sequestered parasite achieved The same discreet collapse, at intervals, Then as when first you found him. And you ask What he has done! Go find a looking-glass And you may see some recent work of his— The most remunerative, and I think The most unconscious." With another man I might have made of that last adjective A stimulating text; but Killigrew Was not the one for me to stimulate In five defective minutes, and I knew it. So I offer no defense for keeping still While he gave birth to phrases for my sake, Nor more for staring at the changeless curve Where river and railroad vanished, half a mile Beyond us to the north. I gave him leave To talk as long as he had words in him,