“Once on a time—­’twas not so very long ago—­
   Miss Puff craved something of Philosophy to know,
   And, with proofs of culture armed and high position,
   To a Summer School of Sages sought admission.

  “With inspiration rare, she here absorbed her fill
   Of ologies galore, and conned them o’er, until
   Her wearied brain grew dazed beyond expression;
   But, of this sad fact, Miss Puff made no confessions

  “Ontology came first, with arguments profound,
   With language mystical, the wisest to confound;
   Physics took the platform next, to claim discussion,
   And Metaphysics foll’wing near caused concussion.

  “Cosmology!  Phrenology! what charmed lore! 
   What depths profound! how high her aspirations soar! 
   Tidbits of sweetness for future delectation. 
   Ah! but could she give a lucid explication?

  “Theosophy!  Psychology! transcendent themes! 
   Glide softly in upon her philosophic dreams: 
   ’Till soul upborne to realms of ecstasy sublime,
   Earth’s vanities grow dim upon the shores of time.

  “But, lo! now hydra-head Theology appears
   To shatter dreams and chill her heart with nameless fears,
   For Sage and Seer spare not in sharp dissection,
   ’Till poor Puff, alas! no longer makes connection.

  “But, all the same, ’twas lovely to ‘philosophize!’
   It mattered not if she were wise, or—­otherwise;
   Or deeply versed in themes on which the Sages dote,
   Could she but keep on transcendental waves afloat.

  “And so, at length, the Summer School drew to a close. 
   Home went Miss Puff, well primed, to smatter and to pose;
   Lightly soar on clouds of blissful exaltation,
   And air her fads, perchance (?) in some smart publication.

  “Howe’er, dear friends, Miss Puff’s career was very brief. 
   Like all pretentious frauds, she shortly came to grief;
   She was found out, you know, and took a strange belief
   Which none could heal, and faded like a leaf. 
   Then, slyly fled the town!—­was never seen again,
   Though faithful search was made o’er mountain, moor and fen.

  “The claim?  Ah! that begat long medical debate;
   But finally, as I am authorized to state—­
   For all things mystical must have some kind of name,
   And there’s no better phrase to chronicle the same—­
   ’Twas—­the learned doctors vowed—­abnormal mentalism,
   The outgrowth of her fads and Transcendentalism!”

Katherine made her bow as she concluded and slipped behind the scenes.  But the applause was beyond anything she had yet received and was kept up, with cries of “come out,” “come out,” until there was nothing to do but reappear, which she did with flushed cheeks and shining eyes.

“Comrades, I thank you all for your hearty appreciation and commendation,” she said, when quiet was restored.  “It occurred to me that a humorous treatment of the subject might be more enjoyable than any other, and”—­with an arch look and nod—­“more applicable to your conception of the term.  But”—­her eyes now brimming with mirth—­“I will not take more of your time, as I believe there is a supplement to my programme yet to come.”