"Two readings of such a poem as that are none too much. Come, read it
again."
Benjamin read the article again, apparently with more confidence than
at first.
"You surprise me, Ben," exclaimed Osborne, when the second reading was
finished. "You are a genuine poet. I had no idea that you could write
like that."
"Nor I," added Matson. "It is better than half the poetry that is
printed. If the subject had not been given out, I don't know but I
should have charged you with stealing it."
"What do you say, Ralph?" inquired Osborne. "You are a poet, and poets
ought to be good judges of such matters." Another fling at Ralph's
claim to poetical ability.
"I don't think it is entirely faultless," remarked Ralph, after some
hesitation. "I think you have commended it full as highly as it
deserves. Not being a _born_ poet, however, I may not be a good
judge," glancing his eye at Osborne.
"Well done, Ralph!" exclaimed Osborne. "Your opinion of that
production is proof positive that you are destitute of real poetical
taste, as I have told you before."
Osborne was fairly caught. Ralph and Benjamin exchanged glances, as
if to inquire if their time of avowed triumph had not come; but both
appeared to conclude to keep the secret a little longer. They
controlled their risibles successfully, and allowed Osborne to go on
and express himself still more strongly in favor of the composition.
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