The very ridiculosity of his easy daring to do or say anything is taking.

He once wrote, in one of those trying books, with which we used to be bored stiff, with questions such as "What is your favourite hour of the day?
He wrote dinner hour; what book not sacred would you part with last?
My pocket-book.

Your favourite motto?
When you must,--you better." I especially liked the poem, "The Outside Dog in the Fight." Here are two specimens of his prose: The fish-hawk is not an eagle.

Mountain heights and clouds he never scales; fish are more in his way, he scales them--possibly regarding them as scaly-wags.

For my bird is pious; a stern conservator is he of the public morals.