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John
De
Graffenreid
Atwood
ate
of
the
lotus
,
root
,
stem
,
and
flower
.
The
tropics
gobbled
him
up
.
He
plunged
enthusiastically
into
his
work
,
which
was
to
try
to
forget
Rosine
.
Now
,
they
who
dine
on
the
lotus
rarely
consume
it
plain
.
There
is
a
sauce
au
diable
that
goes
with
it
;
and
the
distillers
are
the
chefs
who
prepare
it
.
And
on
Johnny
's
menu
card
it
read
"
brandy
.
"
With
a
bottle
between
them
,
he
and
Billy
Keogh
would
sit
on
the
porch
of
the
little
consulate
at
night
and
roar
out
great
,
indecorous
songs
,
until
the
natives
,
slipping
hastily
past
,
would
shrug
a
shoulder
and
mutter
things
to
themselves
about
the
"
Americanos
diablos
.
"
One
day
Johnny
's
mozo
brought
the
mail
and
dumped
it
on
the
table
.
Johnny
leaned
from
his
hammock
,
and
fingered
the
four
or
five
letters
dejectedly
.
Keogh
was
sitting
on
the
edge
of
the
table
chopping
lazily
with
a
paper
knife
at
the
legs
of
a
centipede
that
was
crawling
among
the
stationery
.
Johnny
was
in
that
phase
of
lotus-eating
when
all
the
world
tastes
bitter
in
one
's
mouth
.
"
Same
old
thing
!
"
he
complained
.
"
Fool
people
writing
for
information
about
the
country
.
They
want
to
know
all
about
raising
fruit
,
and
how
to
make
a
fortune
without
work
.
Half
of
'em
do
n't
even
send
stamps
for
a
reply
.
They
think
a
consul
has
n't
anything
to
do
but
write
letters
.
Slit
those
envelopes
for
me
,
old
man
,
and
see
what
they
want
.
I
'm
feeling
too
rocky
to
move
.
"
Keogh
,
acclimated
beyond
all
possibility
of
ill-humour
,
drew
his
chair
to
the
table
with
smiling
compliance
on
his
rose-pink
countenance
,
and
began
to
slit
open
the
letters
.
Four
of
them
were
from
citizens
in
various
parts
of
the
United
States
who
seemed
to
regard
the
consul
at
Coralio
as
a
cyclopædia
of
information
.
They
asked
long
lists
of
questions
,
numerically
arranged
,
about
the
climate
,
products
,
possibilities
,
laws
,
business
chances
,
and
statistics
of
the
country
in
which
the
consul
had
the
honour
of
representing
his
own
government
.
"
Write
'em
,
please
,
Billy
,
"
said
that
inert
official
,
"
just
a
line
,
referring
them
to
the
latest
consular
report
.
Tell
'em
the
State
Department
will
be
delighted
to
furnish
the
literary
gems
.
Sign
my
name
.
Do
n't
let
your
pen
scratch
,
Billy
;
it
'll
keep
me
awake
.
"
"
Do
n't
snore
,
"
said
Keogh
,
amiably
,
"
and
I
'll
do
your
work
for
you
.
You
need
a
corps
of
assistants
,
anyhow
.
Do
n't
see
how
you
ever
get
out
a
report
.
Wake
up
a
minute
!
--
here
's
one
more
letter
--
it
's
from
your
own
town
,
too
--
Dalesburg
.
"
"
That
so
?
"
murmured
Johnny
showing
a
mild
and
obligatory
interest
.
"
What
's
it
about
?
"
"
Postmaster
writes
,
"
explained
Keogh
.
"
Says
a
citizen
of
the
town
wants
some
facts
and
advice
from
you
.
Says
the
citizen
has
an
idea
in
his
head
of
coming
down
where
you
are
and
opening
a
shoe
store
.
Wants
to
know
if
you
think
the
business
would
pay
.
Says
he
's
heard
of
the
boom
along
this
coast
,
and
wants
to
get
in
on
the
ground
floor
.
"
In
spite
of
the
heat
and
his
bad
temper
,
Johnny
's
hammock
swayed
with
his
laughter
.
Keogh
laughed
too
;
and
the
pet
monkey
on
the
top
shelf
of
the
bookcase
chattered
in
shrill
sympathy
with
the
ironical
reception
of
the
letter
from
Dalesburg
.
