The Editor told us to sit down, and he took the poems from Noel, and began to read them.

Noel got paler and paler; I really thought he was going to faint, like he did when I held his hand under the cold-water tap, after I had accidentally cut him with my chisel.

When the Editor had read the first poem--it was the one about the beetle--he got up and stood with his back to us.

It was not manners; but Noel thinks he did it 'to conceal his emotion,' as they do in books.

He read all the poems, and then he said-- 'I like your poetry very much, young man.