The Lake County star. [volume] (Chase, Mich.) 1873-current, 1877-03-22


clerk of the Bangor Patriot with the
mysterious whisper Of:
"She's gone"
"Who's gomez" asked the clerk.
"Maria."
"Who in thunder's MariaY"
"My wife; she's gone"
"Gone wherew
Cup above-died last night-want you
to put it in your next ISSUE"
"What allied herY'
"Lockjaw; she lay for three weeks
and couldn't speak. Never had such a
quiet time in the house before. Just do
the notice up fine, will you, an I'll see
that every thing is fixed up all right"
Accordingly, the clerk scrubbed away
for a moment, handed out what he had
written for inspection, and CURLY re-
marked:
"Dollar thirty-fve."
The bereaved husband read it over
carefully, and finally gave sigh of sat
isfaction.
"That's all right" he said, handing
over the required specie, "but l s'pose
you could put verse on the end,
couldn't your
"Well, yes" ruminated the clerk,
"guess so. What kind of a verse do you
wantW
"Somethin' tender.like an sorrowful."
"How would this do?" asked the
clerk, scratching his head with the end
of his penhOlder.
"a perfect female, folks did consider her,
She gone and left weepin' widower."
"That's kinder melancholy" reflected
the stranger, but reckon it's leetle-
Jest leetle-too personal. Just you try
it again. don't mind putin up ham
sum for sumthin' that'll rake folks
heart-strings."
The clerk gazed at the ceiling for g
moment, and then suggested:
| The husbands lost a wife,
| The children ma,
| Died on Friday night,
From the lockjaw."
EYES," broke out the mourner, wip
ing his nose with black-bordered hand.
kerchief, "but you see l don't own any
young'uns."
"What do you think of this, then p
"She always was contented;
| At life she'd never carp.
Gone to be angel,
And play on golden harp"
"Don't believe that'll suit. You see
Marian couldn't even play on pianner
an l know harp would stump her
sure. Poor woman; she had a tender
| heart, though, and made the most ele
CANT biscuit you ever saw"
Hanged if l won't have to charge
you extra" growled the clerk. "I ain't
q Longfellow or Tennyson."
Il know" meekly replied the sweep
in widower." "Jest try once more
won't your
So the clerk did try, and at last
ground out the following:
"On earth could not stay Marian,
| So she died and went up higher"
"Sorter irreverent, arn't itw anx
iously asked Maria's relict. 81 reckon
l wouldn't grudge couple of dollars
for bang-up verse;"
Thus stimulated, the machine poet
became suddenly inspired, and exult
ingly produced:
| "Cry for Maria!
| Alas she is more
| Joined the singing seraphs
| Upon the other Shore"
The afflicted one uneasily took chew
of tobacco, and whispered:
Beautiful; but there's one thin,
that spiles it. Marian hadn't any more
melody in her than an old plough, an
it's deliberit lynn to speak of her as
vocalist. None CT them other syrup
(seraphs) you allude to could keep tim,
with her."
"Well," thoughtfully remarked tn
discounted clerk, eff this amt all O
X. you'll have to hire special poet
Pm played out:
"Afiiction sore
| Long time she bore,
| Physicians were In vain,
| Lock-jaw ketched her,
| Death il fetched her.
Gone-to rise again."
"Tell you what" enthusiastically ex
claimed the widower, that's tip.tor
Here's your two dollars; you've airn
them. A young man that can make VI
sich affectin' lines as them has got glori
Gus future before him !"
And squeezing the exhausted poet
hand, the elated speaker left in search o
pair Of black kid gloves.