worldly, emphatic, and
adequate, but the object of this study is not to exhibit the virtues
of the Squire's speech, witty though it was.

One of the Bibliotaph's friends began without sufficient provocation
to write verse. The Bibliotaph thought that if the matter were taken
promptly in hand the man could be saved. Accordingly, when next he
gave this friend a book he wrote upon a fly-leaf: 'To a Poet who is
nothing if not original--and who is not original!' And the injured
rhymester exclaimed when he read the inscription: 'You deface every
book you give me.'

He could pay a compliment, as when he was dining with a married pair
who were thought to be not yet disenchanted albeit in the tenth year
of their married life. The lady was speaking to the Bibliotaph, but in
the eagerness of conversation addressed him by her husband's first
name. Whereupon he turned to the husband and said: 'Your wife implies
that I am a repository of grace and a bundle of virtues, and calls me
by your name.'

He once sent this same lady, apropos of the return of the shirt-waist
season, a dozen neckties. In the box was his card with these words
penciled upon it: 'A contribution to the man-made dress of a God-made
woman.'

The Squire had great skill in imitating the cries of various domestic
fowl, as well as dogs, cats, and children. Once, in a moment of social
relaxation, he was giving an exhibition of his power to the vast
amusement of his guests. When he had finished, the Bibliotaph said:
'The theory of Henry Ward Beecher that every man has something of the
animal in him is superabundantly exemplified in _your_ case. You, sir,
have got the whole Ark.'

There was a quaint humor in his most commonplace remarks. Of all the
fruits of the earth he loved most a watermelon. And when a
fellow-traveler remarked, 'That watermelon which we had at dinner was
bad,' the Bibliotaph instantly replied: 'There is no such thing as a
_bad_ watermelon. There are watermelons, and _better_ watermelons.'

I expressed astonishment on learning that he stood six feet in his
shoes. He replied: 'People are so preoccupied in the consideration of
my thickness that they don't have time to observe my height.'

Again, when he was walking through a private park which contained
numerous monstrosities in the shape of painted metal deer on
pedestals, pursued (also on pedestals) by hunters and dogs, the
Bibliotaph pointed to one of the dogs and said, 'Cave cast-iron
canem!