wch is Intolerabble toe ye Publicke. Suerley
noe chaunce of Success in thys. Ye awthour dyd reappeare in ye
aufternoone, and dyd seeke to borrowe a crowne from mee, but I sente hym
packing. Ye Bosse hath heartilye given me Styx forr admitting such
Vagabones to ye Office. I tolde maister Shake a Speare that unlesse hee
colde learne to wryte Beste Sellers such as Master Spenser's Faerye
Quene (wch wee have put through six editions) there was suerly noe Hope
for hym. Hee tooke thys advyse in goode parte, and wente. Hys jerkin
wolde have beene ye better for a patchinge.

THE DOG'S COMMANDMENTS

[Illustration]

From a witless puppy I brought thee up: gave thee fire and food, and
taught thee the self-respect of an honest dog. Hear, then, my
commandments:

I am thy master: thou shalt have no other masters before me. Where I go,
shalt thou follow; where I abide, tarry thou also.

My house is thy castle; thou shalt honor it; guard it with thy life if
need be.

By daylight, suffer all that approach peaceably to enter without
protest. But after nightfall thou shalt give tongue when men draw near.

Use not thy teeth on any man without good cause and intolerable
provocation; and never on women or children.

Honor thy master and thy mistress, that thy days may be long in the
land.

Thou shalt not consort with mongrels, nor with dogs that are common or
unclean.

Thou shalt not steal. Thou shalt not feed upon refuse or stray bits: thy
meat waits thee regularly in the kitchen.

Thou shalt not bury bones in the flower beds.

Cats are to be chased, but in sport only; seek not to devour them: their
teeth and claws are deadly.

Thou shalt not snap at my neighbor, nor at his wife, nor his child, nor
his manservant, nor his maidservant, nor his ox, nor his ass, nor do
harm to aught that is his.

The drawing-room rug is not for thee, nor the sofa, nor the best
armchair. Thou hast the porch and thy own kennel. But for the love I
bear thee, there is always a corner for thee by the winter fire.

Meditate on these commandments day and night; so shalt thou be a dog of
good breeding and an honor to thy master.

THE VALUE OF CRITICISM

Our friend Dove Dulcet, the well-known sub-caliber poet, has recently
issued a slender volume of verses called _Peanut Butter_. He thinks we
may be interested to see the comment of the press on his book. We don't
know why he should think so, but anyway here are some of the reviews