The Ottawa free trader. [volume] (Ottawa, Ill.) 1843-1916, 1874-09-12


As the sheriff went out, Colonel Bangs
n,accd his head upon the tai le and groancd.
Really Mr. Simmer said, that person
must be dcrangcd. tried, in his case to put
myself in hi, place, and to write rs if | was
one of the family, according to instructions
The verses are beautiful That allusion to
the grief of the aunt, particularly, seemed to
me To be very happy. II expresses violent
Icmotion with icliCitOus combination OF
sweetness and force These people have no
soul---nO appreciation of the beautiful in art.
While the poet mused, hurried steps were
| heard upon the stairs, and IN Il moment
Imiddlc.aged man dashed in abruptly, and
Selling the colonies scattered hair, bumped
| his PROSTATE head against the table three or
four times with considerable force. Having
expended the violence of his emotion in TINS
manner, he held the editors head down with
one hand, shaking it occasionally by way OF
emphasis and with the other hand seized The
paper and said, >.
You disgracctul old reprobate' You dis,
gushing vampire You hoary headed OLD
ghoul What dyou mean by putting such
stuff rs this in your paper about my deceased
son: What dyou mean by printing such
awful doggcrel as this, you depraved and dis
solutc ink slingcr--yOu umbecile quill-driycr,
you
6" Oh, bury Bartholomew out in the wood,
In n beautiful hole in the ground,
Where the bunbcbcc buzz and the woodpech-
crs sing,
And the straddlc.bugs tumble around,
So that, in winter, when the snow and the sIush
Have covered his iastlttIc bed,
His brother Artemus can go out with Jane
And visit the place with his sled
I'll teach you to talk about straddlc.Ougs!
! I'll instruct YOU about slush. I'll enlighten
your insane old intellect on the subject OF
singing woodpeckcrs! What do you know
about Jane and Artemus, you wretched buc-
cancer, you despicable butcher of the English
language? Go out with sled, I'll carry
you out IN hcarsc before I'm done with you,
| you Ieplorable lunaticn
| At the end of every phrase the visitor gave
! the editors head fresh knock against the
table, When the exercises was ended, Col
oncl Bangs explained and apologized in the
humblest manner, promising at the same time
/ to give his assailant chance to fog Mr. Slim
mer who was expected to arrive IN few mo-
mcnts.
! The treachGry Of this man. murmurcd the
poet to the foreman, is dreadful. Didn't lie
desire me 10 throw II glamour of pOesy over
commonplace details But for that | should
never have thought Of abiding to woodpcck-
er5 and bugs and other children Of Nature
/ The man objects to the remarks about the
sled, Can the idiot know that it was neccS
sary to have a rhyme for bed? Can he sup
pose that could write poetry without rhymes?
The man Is tuatc, He ought not to be at
large"
Hardly had ,hr indignant and energetic
parent Of Bartholomew departed when man
! with red hair and fcrOcIous glare in his
eyes entered carrying club and accompan-
| led by "a savage looking dog
! want to see the editor he shouted
A ghastly pallol oycrsprcad the colonies
face, and he said.
The editor is not in
/ Well, when trW he he III, then:
Not for Il week-fur,a month-tor a year
for ever, He VIII never come III any more?
screamed Bangs He has gone TO South
America, with the intention to remain there
during the rest OF his life He las departed.
He has fed. If you want to see him, you had
better follow him to the equator lie will be
glad to see you. | would advise you, as a
friend, to take the next boat-tO start at once. :
That is unfortunate said the man;
came all the way from Delaware City for the
i pprposc OF batterng him upa lot with this
club'
He will be sorry said Bangs, sarcas.ical-
lly. He will regret II lssng you | will
write to hlM, and mention that YOU dropped
my name is McF'adGcn,' said the man.
came to break the bead of the man who wrote
that obituary poetry about my wife. II you
don't tell me who perpetrated the following,
I'll break yours for you Where's the man
who wrote this: Pay attention:
I"' Mrs. McFuddcn has gone from this life
She has left all lis sOrrows and care.
She caught the rheupatics in both of her legs
While scrubbing the cellar stairs
They put mustard plaSters upon her IN vain:
They bathed her with whisky and ram;
But Thursday her spirit departed, ana lett
Her body entirely numb
u The man who held the late Mrs. McFad-
den M 10 the Scorn OF an unsympatheuc
world in that shocking manner said the ed
itor, is named James b. Simmer. He boards
in Bank street, fourth door from the corner.
| would advise YOU to call on him and avenge
Mrs McFadden's wrongs with an intermiX.
ture OF club and dog-bltcs.
And this sighed the poet, outside tive door,
il the man who told me TO divert Mctad-
den mind from contemplation OF the h0r-
rors of the tomb 1t was this monster who
counseled me to make the sunshine OF Nc
Fadden's smiles burst through the tempest OF
Nc Fadden's tears II that Icd-headeL mon
!, s,er couldn't smile over that allusiOn to
whisky and rum, if those remarks about the
rheumatism in her legs could not divert his
mind from the horrors of the tomb, was i! m5
fault? McFadden grovels, He knows nc
more about poetry than mule knows about
the Shorter Catechism.
The poet determined t. leave before any
more criticisms were made upon his perform
ances. He jumped down from his chair and
crept softly toward the back staircase.
The story told by the foreman relates ina
: Colonel Bangs ut the same instant resolved tC
+ escape any further persecution, and be moved
of in the direction taken by the poet The
;. two met upon the landing, and the colone
a was about to begin his quarrel with Simmer
Il when an enraged old woman who had beer
4 cropping her way up stairs suddenly plunged
her umbrella at Bangs, and held him in thu
a corner while she handed copy of the Ar9n
l. TO Simmer, and pointing to "a CERTAIN stanzi
a asked HIM to read it aloud. He did SO in I
c, somewhat ircmulous voice and with fright