TO R. C.

Thorstein is yours. You’ve made him yours By masterful appropriation: As long as right of might endures I dare no other dedication, Whatever name allures. You’ve seized my copy and revise, Absorbed the proofs, devoured the pages, Retold the tale in travesties, And sketched and played the personages In many a quaint disguise. Thanks, Robin: for the wide world o’er A writer asks no finer flattery, No kinder fate of all in store, Than Five-years-old’s assault and battery Demanding more and more. But now to risk the wider test. Of one applauding hand I’m certain,— Let doubts and fears go unconfessed. So stop the fiddle,—lift the curtain,— And, puppets, play your best.