ghtly bolstered within for
the attitude. Speak to me, madam. Let one thought fly from
thy caging brow to me a beggar vile.

Mrs. S. O, Mr. Poe!

Poe. Thanks for the burden of those syllables.

Mrs. S. My dear Mr. Poe!

Poe. Again? You overwhelm me? Dare I speak? You have suspected?
You know why I linger in this dear room--dear as the
barrier that staves off guttery death? This kindness is
sincere? I may trust it and speak?

Mrs. S. You may, Mr. Poe.

Poe. Well then, sweet Smidgkin, will you open the broad gates
of genial widowhood to admit a fallen wretch to the warmth
of your bosom and hearthstone--particularly the latter?

Mrs. S. (With dignity) I presume, Mr. Poe, that I am addressed
by an offer of marriage. I have had offers before, Mr.
Poe,--one an undertaker who drove a good business, but he
looked for all the world like one of his own corpses an'
what is business says I to a woman in good circumstances
with a longin' heart? I don't mind sayin' it, Mr. Poe, a
nice lookin' man always did take my eye, an' you'll be a
pretty figure when you're plumped out a bit, indeed you
will, but your addresses of this offer is somewhat
unusual, an' if you'll give me time--

Poe. The weather, madam, will admit of no delay. Since you are
so determined, I must give up hope and seek shelter under
Jove's great canopy.

Mrs. S. O, don't go there, Mr. Poe--it's a bad place, that Canpy
house, an' I've heard Jove talked about for a vile
barkeep! I guess since you're so impetus I'll say yes to
these addresses of marriage, Mr. Poe.

Poe. Ha! ha! ha!

Mrs. S. What do you mean, Mr. Poe? My dear Eddie, I should say!

Poe. I mean, madam, that death loves a joke.

Mrs. S. O, my sweet Eddie, don't be talkin' about death. You're
so pale I don't wonder--and a'most starved out I'll
venture my word for it. But you won't know yourself in a
week. I've got the sweetest room downstairs--all in blue
an' white, with a bed three feet o' feathers, soft as a
goosebreast, I warrant, an' I'll tuck you in an' bring you
a toddy that'll warm you to your toes, it will, an'--

Poe. Ha! ha! ha! Well, why not? I seize this wretched plank