- sible for you to be a poet, because I am sure that
Witty would never have climbed up all those stairs to your miserable garret—I feel sure it is a garret with a sloping roof with a hole in it—"
"There is a pool under the hole which has been caused by the percolation of water—"
"On to the atrocious bare boards, its occupant being much too poor to afford a carpet. Yes, Witty would never have climbed up to your garret if you had been a poet. Or stay, he might, had you been Mrs. Felicia Hemans. As you are a seeker of documentary evidence, he has been known to recite her poems, at the request of the rector of this parish, to a Sunday-school party."
"Base woman," said the solicitor, with an air of injury; "I claim to be an admirer of the poet Longfellow."
"Never, Witty, in your heart; it is merely your fatal craving to be respectable in all things. But in the matter of poetry you must be content to remain outside. You would never have climbed those rickety stairs to that cold garret to see John Keats."
"Well, now, Featherhead, did I not tell you at the first that our young friend was England's future Lord Chancellor?"
"I will never believe that; I will never believe that his destiny is the law. His eye has amazing flashes; and is there not a beautiful eloquence burning in his mouth? I cannot think of him as rich Witty, and successful Witty, and smug Witty, like you atrocious lawyers. He is one who would be an overthrower of dynasties, a saviour of societies."
"You are letting your tongue wag, Noodle. If
