Yet I read his stuff, and it seems to me the perfection of the felicitous expression of the inane.

Why, he is no more than a ponderous bromide, thanks to Gelett Burgess.

And Praps is no better.

His 'Hemlock Mosses,' for instance is beautifully written.

Not a comma is out of place; and the tone--ah!--is lofty, so lofty.