The Chap-book; semi-monthly . Perinell, however, has encouraged me to believe in meat and drink in letters. I am placid. I takestock of the things Ihave eaten, and, more to the point, of thetilings I mean to eat. My conversation at dinner is enlivenedwith-numerdus anecdotes of gourmets and gourmands, talesof the most delectable oyster and the magnificent mushroom ;jth^nksito-tliis delightful book. •|It is tibt quite cleat to me why one day I see the nameKatherine Tynan appended to a poem or a story, the nextweek find something new signed Katherine Tynan Hinkson,and the following w
The Chap-book; semi-monthly . Perinell, however, has encouraged me to believe in meat and drink in letters. I am placid. I takestock of the things Ihave eaten, and, more to the point, of thetilings I mean to eat. My conversation at dinner is enlivenedwith-numerdus anecdotes of gourmets and gourmands, talesof the most delectable oyster and the magnificent mushroom ;jth^nksito-tliis delightful book. •|It is tibt quite cleat to me why one day I see the nameKatherine Tynan appended to a poem or a story, the nextweek find something new signed Katherine Tynan Hinkson,and the following week observe a reversion to KatherineTynan; Iknow that perhaps a year ago Katherine Tynanmarrie*d*Mr. Hinkson, and that she was offered the choiceof signing her work with the old or the new name. Butthis present arrangement suggests an alternation of divorceand remarriage, performed witli a rapidity which makes theliveliest times in Dakota seem stagnant. Will Mrs. Hink-son, or Miss Tynan, as she perhaps is to-day, PORTRAIT OF IBSEN IN i860 46 NOTES Jackson, Miss., May ist, 1896To THE Editor of the Chap-Book, Dear Sir:—I have just been suffering from an attack ofStephen Crane, and Paul Verlaine, and the enclosed **poem is a result of the ravages of the decadent bacteria. It isutterly worthless, and I send it for publication} not so muchas being peculiarly suited to your columns, but as an awfulwarning to your readers against too much dallying withmodern poetry. The idea that I intend to conceal in these lines is themental condition of Alexander when he sighed for moreworlds to conquer. I give you the poems esoteric meaning,as I am sure, from my own experience in perusing it after itwas cold, your unaided intellect would never discover it hadany more meaning than a political platform. I am, dear sir, very truly yours. ALEXANDER Girth with a glory of gold was his low in the clasp of his azarine of blooms fawning fair at the fall of his
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