The Eaton Democrat. (Eaton, Ohio) 1875-1903, 1880-12-02
Dropping Into Poetry.

eff you please, SIR" said the young
lady timidly, as the exchange editor
handed her chair, "I have composed
few verses, or partially composed them,
and | have thought you might help me
finish them and then print them. Ma
says they are real nice as far as they go,
and pa takes the Eagle every day."
She was q handsome creature, with
beautiful blue eyes, and crowning
glory as yellow as golden roses.
MAY I show you the poetry?" contin-
ued the ripe red mouth. "You will see
that I couldn't get the last lines of the
verses, and if you would please be so
kind as to help me"
Help heri Though ne had nevef even
read line of poetry, the exchange ed
itor felt the spirit of the divine art flood
his soul, as he yielded to the bewildering
music. Help heri Well, he should
smile.
"The irst verse runs like this, she
went on, iaking courage from his eye:
"Hcw softly sweet the autumn air
The dying woodland flls,
And nature turns from restless orre-
s'To anti-biious pills!r' added the ex-
change editor, with a jerk. Just the
thing Itrhymes, and it's So You take
anybody now All the people you meet
arc"
81 suppose you know best" inter-
rupted the young girl. "I hadn't thought
of it in that way, but you have better
idea of such things. Now the second
verse is more like this:
The dove-eyed kline upon the moor
Look tender, meek and sad,
While from the valley comes tue roar
''Of the mateless liver -pad!" roared the
exchange editor. 'HThere YOU get it.
That finishes the second SO as to match
with the first It combines the fashions
with poetry, and carries the idea right
home to the freside If only had your
ability in starting verse with my genius
in winding it up, / would quit the shears
and open up in the poetry business to-
morrow"
"Think SOP asked the fair young
lady. SIT don't strike me as keeping up
the theme"
"You don't want to. You want to
break the theme here and there. The
reader likes it betteri Oh, yes. Where
you keep up the theme it gets monoto-
nous.
'tPerhaps that's so, rejoined the beau
ty, Frightening up. 81 did not think of
that. Now will read the third verse:
"How sadly drcols the dying day
AS night springs from the glen,
And moaning twilight seems to say
'rThe old mans drunk again, wouldn't
do, would it?" asked the exchange ed
itor. Somebody else wrote that, and
we might be accused of plagiarism. We
must have this thing original. Suppose
we say; now just suppose we say, why
did [ spout my Ben ?'
"Is that new?" inquired the sweet
rosy lips. cat least never heard it be.
fore I don't know what it means"
''New? Deed it's new. Ben is the
Presbyterian name for overcoat, and
spout means to hook. why did L spout
my Benz? means why did I shove my
topper. That is just what twilight would
think of first, you know. Oh, don't be
| afraid; that s just immense.
"Well, I'll leave it to you" said the
glorious girl, with a smile that pinned
the exchange editors heart to his spine.
"This is the fourth verse:
The merry nilkmaid's sombre song
Re-echoes from the rocks,
As silently she trips along
''With holes in both her socks, by
Jove - cried the delighted exchange ed.
itor. You see"
"Ohl no! no!'' demonstrated the blush.
ing maiden. 'Not that"
Certainly" protested the exchange
editor, warming up. ''Nine to four she's
got 'em; and you get fidelity to fact with
wealth of poetical expression. The
worst of poetry generally is, you cam
state things fjust as they are. 1t aim
like prose. But here we've busted al
the established notions, and put up ar
actual existence with veil of genuine
poetry over it. think that's the best
idea we've struck yet.
81 don't look at it as you do, but O.
course you are the best Judge. Pap.
thought ought to say,
As silently she trips along
Ia autnmn's yellow tracks
Wouldn't that do?"
IDOL just look at it. Does track.
! rhyme to rocks? Not in the Brooklyn
Eagle it don't. Besides, when you sa,
tracks and rocks you give the impress
sion of some fellow heaving things al
another fellow who's scratching for safety.
Socks, ON the other hand, rhymes with
the rocks and beauties them, while il
touches up the milkmaid, and by de
scribing her condition shows her to be ,
child of the very Nature you are showing
up"
81 think you're right, said the sweet
angel I will tell papa where he Is
wrong. This is the way the fifth verse
runs:
| "And close behind, the frrmers boy
Trills forth his simple tunes,
| And slips behind the maiden coy"
"And splits his pantaloons; done i
myself; know just exactly how it is
Why, bless your heart, you"
Snip, snip, snip. Paste, paste, paste
But it is with saddened heart that m
snips and pastes among his exchange
now. The beautiful vision that for
moment dawned upon him has left bu
the recollection in his heart of one sun
beam in his like, quenched by the shove
of tears with which she denounced hir
as "nasty brute" and went out from hir
|