As I went over Spring Street,
   Where "Ma" provides for thespians' need,
A gorgeous man I chanced to meet,
   And he was very proud indeed.
His lovely, undulating locks,
   Like ripples on a summer sea,
His flashing eye, his yearning socks.
   All were a wondrous symphony.

Yet while he strode, as Paris strode
   Of old to hearten ladies fair,
He slipped upon the rain-wet road
   And sat down in a puddle there.
So, knowing actors, and beacuse
   Of that expectant look he wore,
I knew he waited for applause,
            I cried "Encore!" 

"Den"
Herald, 30 January 1929, p4