“Here is something better.  ’The Persian Iris appears to some persons to possess a sweet and very powerful perfume, while to others it is perfectly scentless.’  Fine that, and very delicate!  Turn it about a little, and it will do wonders.  We’ll have some thing else in the botanical line.  There’s nothing goes down so well, especially with the help of a little Latin.  Write!

“’The Epidendrum Flos Aeris, of Java, bears a very beautiful flower, and will live when pulled up by the roots.  The natives suspend it by a cord from the ceiling, and enjoy its fragrance for years.’  That’s capital!  That will do for the similes.  Now for the Piquant Expressions.

“PIQUANT EXPRESSIONS.  ‘The Venerable Chinese novel Ju-Kiao-Li.’  Good!  By introducing these few words with dexterity you will evince your intimate acquaintance with the language and literature of the Chinese.  With the aid of this you may either get along without either Arabic, or Sanscrit, or Chickasaw.  There is no passing muster, however, without Spanish, Italian, German, Latin, and Greek.  I must look you out a little specimen of each.  Any scrap will answer, because you must depend upon your own ingenuity to make it fit into your article.  Now write!

“‘Aussi tendre que Zaire’ —­ as tender as Zaire-French.  Alludes to the frequent repetition of the phrase, la tendre Zaire, in the French tragedy of that name.  Properly introduced, will show not only your knowledge of the language, but your general reading and wit.  You can say, for instance, that the chicken you were eating (write an article about being choked to death by a chicken-bone) was not altogether aussi tendre que Zaire.  Write!

’Van muerte tan escondida,
   Que no te sienta venir,
Porque el plazer del morir,
   No mestorne a dar la vida.’

“That’s Spanish —­ from Miguel de Cervantes.  ’Come quickly, O death! but be sure and don’t let me see you coming, lest the pleasure I shall feel at your appearance should unfortunately bring me back again to life.’  This you may slip in quite a propos when you are struggling in the last agonies with the chicken-bone.  Write!

’Il pover ’huomo che non se’n era accorto, Andava combattendo, e era morto.’

That’s Italian, you perceive —­ from Ariosto.  It means that a great hero, in the heat of combat, not perceiving that he had been fairly killed, continued to fight valiantly, dead as he was.  The application of this to your own case is obvious —­ for I trust, Miss Psyche, that you will not neglect to kick for at least an hour and a half after you have been choked to death by that chicken-bone.  Please to write!

’Und sterb’ich doch, no sterb’ich denn

Durch sie —­ durch sie!’

That’s German —­ from Schiller.  ’And if I die, at least I die —­ for thee —­ for thee!’ Here it is clear that you are apostrophizing the cause of your disaster, the chicken.  Indeed what gentleman (or lady either) of sense, wouldn’t die, I should like to know, for a well fattened capon of the right Molucca breed, stuffed with capers and mushrooms, and served up in a salad-bowl, with orange-jellies en mosaiques.  Write! (You can get them that way at Tortoni’s) —­ Write, if you please!