goes thy famous criticism!” and he laughed..  “And those that taste the fruit itself at first hand will not soon forget its flavor!  Nevertheless I hope indeed that thou wilt strive to slaughter me with thy blunt paper sword!  I do most mirthfully relish the one-sided combat, in which I stand in silence to receive thy blows, myself unhurt and tranquil as a marble god whom ruffians rail upon!  Do I not pay thee to abuse me? ... here, thou crusty soul!—­drink and be content!”—­And with a charming condescension he handed a full goblet of wine to his cantankerous Critic, who accepted it ungraciously, muttering in his beard the necessary words of thanks for his master’s consideration,—­then, turning to Theos, the Laureate continued: 

“And thou, my friend, what dost thou think of ‘Nourhalma’ so far?  Hath it not a certain exquisite smoothness of rhythm like the ripple of a woodland stream clear-winding through the reeds? ... and is there not a tender witchery in the delineation of my maiden-heroine, so warmly fair, so wildly passionate?  Methinks she doth resemble some rich flower of our tropic fields, blooming at sunset and dead at moonrise!”

Theos waited a moment before replying.  Truth to tell, he was inwardly overcome with shame to remember how wantonly he had copied the description of this same Nourhalma! ... and plaintively he wondered how he could have unconsciously committed so flagrant a theft!  Summoning up all his self-possession, however, he answered bravely.

“Thy work, Sah-luma, is worthy of thyself! ... need I say more? ...  Thou hast most aptly proved thy claim upon, the whole world’s gratitude, ... such lofty thoughts, . . such noble discourse upon love,—­such high philosophy, wherein the deepest, dearest dreams of life are grandly pictured in enduring colors,—­these things are gifts to poor humanity whereby it must become enriched and proud!  Thy name, bright soul, shall be as a quenchless star on the dark brows of melancholy Time, . . men gazing thereat shall wonder and adore,—­and even I, the least among thy friends, may also win from thee a share of glory!  For, simply to know thee,—­to listen to thy heaven-inspired utterance, might bring the most renownless student some reflex of thine honor!  Yes, thou art great, Sah-luma! ... great as the greatest of earth’s gifted sons of song!—­and with all my heart I offer thee my homage, and pride myself upon the splendor of thy fame!”

And as the eager, enthusiastic words came from his lips, he beheld Sah-luma’s beautiful countenance brighten more and more, till it appeared mysteriously transfigured into a majestic Angel-face that for one brief moment startled him by the divine tenderness of its compassionate smile!  This expression, however, was transitory,—­it passed, and the dark eyes of the Laureate gleamed with a merely serene and affectionate complacency as he said: