ok a big arm-chair, placed the young lady in a low seat close beside
him, and, assuming a ponderous, pedagogical air, began:

"The rhinoceros, my child, as you may possibly be aware, is a huge
beast of uncouth appearance, with a horn on its nose, and inhabiting
the wild regions of certain wild countries, notably Africa. It is a
dangerous animal, and has enemies galore and friends but few. The
hunter counts it a noble prize, and steals upon it in its fastnesses,
and even a rhinoceros may not withstand the explosive bullet of modern
science. Somewhat sluggish and dull, at times, is the rhinoceros, and
it is in his careless, listless moods that he is liable to fall a
victim. Well for him is it on such occasions that he has a friend, a
guardian, a tiny lover. Well for him that the rhinoceros-bird exists!
The rhinoceros-bird is a little thing which never deserts the mighty
beast. It perches upon his head or back, and flutters about him, and
makes of him its world. To the rhinoceros-bird the rhinoceros is all
there is of earth. And well is the brute repaid for liking the bird
about him. Though the monster may have stupid periods, the bird has
none, and, hovering about bushes, fluttering over openings, ever alert,
watchful and solicitous, naught may escape its eye, and, danger once
discovered, swift is the warning to the slumbering giant, and then woe
to the intruder on his domain! And such, dear pupil, is the
rhinoceros-bird. And you are my rhinoceros-bird."

She understood, of course. The look in her eyes told that, but her
words belied her.

She said that, in a general way, the simile had application, the
rhinoceros being a huge beast of uncouth appearance.

And, so far as this conversation was concerned, he perished miserably.

But that was only the beginning of a practical exhibition of the
woman's earnestness and acuteness, and her great love. It was but
evidence that she was to be, what she became in time, his
rhinoceros-bird in all things, his right hand, prompter in such
relations as a woman's wit and woman's way best serve. She was of him.
But with two who blended, so there must be many added intervals of
delicious nonsense before the reality of marriage came.

They made odd names for things. They ate lobster together one day, and
he, in some mood, kept misquoting and distorting passages from the
Persian poet, and thenceforth broiled lobster was known to the two as
"a Rubaiyat." And there were a