Portage sentinel. [volume] (Ravenna, Ohio) 1845-1854, 1854-08-16
The Green Horn and the Poet.

The following incident Of distinguished Phil
adelphan, teaches a lesson of love and kindness
which it will be well for all literary men to copy
"Once on time, | went to see Willis Gaylord
Clark, then editor of the Philadelphia Gazette.-
remember the clothes wore, and how arrang-
ed them and brushed them to stake off, the coun-
try, but it would stick to them. That gray lin
sey-woolsey coatee, made capacious to invite
growth, with huge pockets outside for chestnuts
and apples; the thick wooden mittins, trowsers of
the same material, rough inside as rasp, to pro.
mote counter irritation and dilute the blood made
of ample dimensions with tucks, 50 as 10 last for
Sundays two Winters, and for common iDdef-
nltely; waist coat somewhat short but wide, to
compensate with staring brown figures, big and
bold, as compromise with the crayat of the same
color; commodious high bouts, heavy and hob
naileq, emitting compound of Heather and grease,
when near the fire; wool-hat of aspiring crown
and diminntive brim, and shilling cotton band
anna, to display on occasions Of emotion.
$50 attired, went to the city of brotherly love
with forty pairs of chickens, six turkeys and two
possums-the latter harpooned in the hen-roOst
with pitch fork and the Carcasses, otherwise
contraband, to be sold to pay for the depredations
with this provender to sell on account of my
guardian, and poem in those trowsers pockets
to exhibit on my own account | went The
marketing sold not to the best advantage either
for the poem and Mr.. Clark were in my mind
called at the office, inquired for the editor, stat
ed that my business was personal and private
and was ushered into the sanctum, amid the smiles
of clerks and others. t...a...a aH
"Mr, Clark was alone and deeply absorbed; and
there was in the presence of real live poet
slid quietly along to half the nearest chair; hold
ing my wool cap between my knees and the
bandanna in my hand, awaiting for him to look up.
He did so in few moments, and the pensive, al
most melancholy beauty of his face lit up with
faint smile as he saw the rustic appari was
all eyes, for there sat the man who edited 'our
paper and writ the verses had cried over in the
barn and cornfeld, and tried to initiate, on Sun
day mornings when our folks had gone to church.
My earnestness, | suppose, interested him. He
did not laugh, as feared, but gently said:
"Did you wish to see me, sr!''
81 said Yes" And trembled, and my eyes
filled in spite of myself 81 came to ask your adj
vice about some lines have written"
"You write verses do you'' he said pleasantly;
and added: "its poor business
"Not if could write such as yours" re-
piled.
"Perhaps you may" said he. "Allow me to
see yours. What do you call them!'
''The Home of the Poets,' said |, handing the
paper-It was substantial foolscap, we'll tumbled
"Poets have no home on earth,' he said; and
the terrible pathos thrilled me like an arrow.
81 have made their home in heaven" said
"and have given them superior place, for
think their exalted nature must reach a higher
place in whatever sphere they attain to-"
"He looked at me steadily for moment, and
then read the poem of thirty verses twice over,
during which watched his face, SO pale, with
such deep lines of thought and suffering; a ma
ture so purely emotional forced into sphere so
wholly executive, fitted to dream and glow, but
compelled to work and suffer, till my heart went
out to him with bound. Finishing.the poem he
said: "Hh
"My young friend, Nature made you poet;
there's no denying that; and it will puzzle man
to unmake you. I'll give you ten dollars for this,
and publish it."
"Thank you," said I, as we'll as could, II do
not want to publish it, Then he handed me some
of his own manuscripts, which read, and pass
ed never to be forgotten hour or two with him.
recur to it always with the g. eatest pleasure; it
was noble in him to so receive green, gawkey
boy, and read my crtde rhymes. And thousand
times since, when the promise, af life has turned
to ashes and the victory seemed not worth the bat
tie, have REQUIRED to that interview, and resov.
ed to struggle / left Mr.. Clark, threw the rhymes
into the desk with hundreds of others, plunged in
to commerce aud reform. graduated through Quak
erism to some spiritual faith, but rejected and dis
believed my gift poesy--scarcely believe it now
but occasionally | look back to Mr.. Clark's gen
erous words and then the rhyming impulse car
res me out of trade and tumult," to the sweet
stillplaces, far inward and upward. PHtsburgl
Christian Advocate. ' lg1@ 7#ii
II. Nebraska trsFritOry. r. rtg.