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"Only just at the beginning," said Philippa; "we went to Bermuda." "Oh yes, I remember. Do you know, I thought it pretty rough at the end, especially on Ram Spudd. I liked him. I sent him two pounds of tobacco to the penitentiary last week; you can get it in to them, you know, if you know how." "But what were you going to say?" asked Philippa. "Oh yes," said Mr. Spillikins.
But our space does not allow us to present Ram Spudd in what is after all his greatest aspect, that of a profound psychologist, a questioner of the very meaning of life itself. His poem Death and Gloom, from which we must refrain from quoting at large, contains such striking passages as the following: Why do I breathe, or do I? What am I for, and whither do I go?
Rasselyer-Brown, "is their wonderful delicacy of feeling. After I had explained about my invitation to Mr. Yahi-Bahi to come and speak to us on Boohooism, and was going away, I took a dollar bill out of my purse and laid it on the table. You should have seen the way Mr. Ram Spudd took it.
Yet we cannot refrain from inserting a reference to the latest of these laureate poems of Ram Spudd. and, though we do not propose to reproduce it here, our distinct feeling is that it will take its rank beside Mr. Spudd's Elegy on the Interstate Commerce Act, and his Thoughts on the Proposal of a Uniform Pure Food Law.
Sikleigh Snoop entered, followed by Mr. Yahi-Bahi and Mr. Ram Spudd. Mr. Yahi-Bahi was tall. His drooping Oriental costume made him taller still. He had a long brown face and liquid brown eyes of such depth that when he turned them full upon the ladies before him a shiver of interest and apprehension followed in the track of his glance.
Spudd scarcely seemed to see it. He murmured, 'Osiris help you! and pointed to the ceiling. I raised my eyes instinctively, and when I lowered them the money had disappeared. I think he must have caused it to vanish." "Oh, I'm sure he did," said the listener. Others came back with wonderful stories of Mr. Yahi-Bahi's occult powers, especially his marvellous gift of reading the future. Mrs.
But, Lord! what a tosse I was for some time in, that they could not justly tell where it was; that I begun heartily to sweat, and be angry, that they should not agree better upon the place, and at last to fear that it was gone but by and by poking with a spit, we found it, and then begun with a spudd to lift up the ground.
Ram Spudd were lifted up into the patrol wagon where they seated themselves with a composure worthy of the best traditions of Jehumbabah and Bahoolapore. In fact, Mr. Spudd was heard to address the police as "boys," and to remark that they had "got them good" that time. So the seance ended and the guests vanished, and the Yahi-Bahi Society terminated itself without even a vote of dissolution.
Last night an ostrich feather from your fragrant hair Unnoticed fell. I guard it Well. Yestere'en From your tiara I have slid, Unseen, A single diamond, And I keep it Hid. Last night you left inside the vestibule upon the sill A quarter dollar, And I have it Still. But even those who know Ram Spudd as the poet of nature or of passion still only know a part of his genius.
They made their way up the steps of the darkened house, and were admitted without ringing, the door opening silently in front of them. Mr. Yahi-Bahi and Mr. Ram Spudd, who had arrived on foot carrying a large parcel, were already there, and were behind a screen in the darkened room, reported to be in meditation. At a whispered word from Mr.
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