The poet shook his head, and the clerk shook his too. Each held to his
own conviction, and they parted company.
“They are a queer race, these poets.” thought the clerk. “I should like to
try my hand at their trade-to turn poet myself. I'm sure I would never write
such melancholy stuff as most of them do. What a splendid spring day this
is, a day fit for a poet. The air is so unusually clear, the clouds so lovely,
and the green grass so fragrant. For many a year I have not felt as I feel just
now.”
Already, you could tell that he had turned poet. Not that there was
anything you could put your finger on, for it is foolish to suppose that a
poet differs greatly from other people, some of whom are far more poetic by
nature than many a great and accepted poet. The chief difference is that a
poet has a better memory for things of the spirit. He can hold fast to an
emotion and an idea until they are firmly and clearly embodied in words,
which is something that others cannot do. But for a matter-of-fact person to
think in terms of poetry is noticeable enough, and it is this transformation
that we can see in the clerk.
“What a glorious fragrance there is in the air!” he said. “It reminds me of
Aunt Lone's violets. Ah me, I haven't thought of them since I was a little
boy. The dear old girl! She used to live over there, behind the Exchange.
She always had a spray or a few green shoots in water, no matter how
severe the winter was. I'd smell those violets even when I was putting hot
pennies against the frozen window pane to make peep holes. What a view
that was-ships frozen tight in the canal, deserted by their crew, and a
shrieking crow the only living creature aboard them. But when the
springtime breezes blew the scene turned lively again. There were shouts
and laughter as the ice was sawed away. Freshly tarred and rigged, the ships
sailed off for distant lands. I stayed here, and I must forever stay here,
sitting in the police office where others come for their passports to foreign
countries. Yes, that's my lot! Oh, yes!” he said, and heaved a sigh. Then he
stopped abruptly. “Great heavens! What's come over me. I never thought or
