The river press. [volume] (Fort Benton, Mont.) 1880-current, 1880-11-17

that way, but you have a better idea OF such
things. Now the second verse is more like
this:
1.-THE dove-eyedskine upon the Moor
Look tender, meek and sad;
While from the valley comes the roar"
"Of the matchless liver-pad!" roared the
finishes the second SO as to match with the
first. 1t combines the fashions with poetry,
and carries the idea right hometo the dreside.
1t | only had your ability in starting a verse,
with my genius ia winding it Up, I'd quit the
shears and open in the poetry business to-
morrow
"Think SO ?" asked the fair young lady.
1T 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 better. Q yes! Where you keep up the
theme it gets m~onotonous."
perhaps that's So rejoined the beauty,
Frightening up. Il didn't think Of that.
Now I'll read the third verse"
"How sadly droops the dying day.
Asnight springs from the glen,
ana moaning twilight seems to say"
"The old mans drunk again, wouldn't do,
would it," asked the exchange editor. "Au-
other fellow 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 Ispout my BENZ"
us that new inquired the sweet, rosy
lips. "At least T never heard It before. I
don't know what it means.''
sNeW? Deed it's new. Ben is the Pres
byterian name for overcoat, and spout means
to hook. Why did [ spout my Ben? means
why did ! shove my topper? Q, don't be
afraid that's just immense!'
"Well, I'll leave it to you,' said the glor-
ious girl, with a smile that pinned the ex-
change editors heart to his spine. 'sThis is
the fourth verse :"
THE merry milkmaidns sombre song
Re-echoes from the rocks,
AS silently she trips along"
"With holes in both her socks ~ cried the
delighted exchange editor "You see"
20 no, no." demonstrated the blushing
maiden. s'Not that
Certainly" protested the exchange editor,
warming up. Nine to four she's got 'em,
and you get fidelity to fact with q wealth Of
poetical expression. The worst of poetry
generally is, you can't state things as they
are. It amt like prose. But here we have
busted all the established notions, and put up
an actual existence with a veil of genuine
poetry over it. I think that's the best idea
we've struck yet"
Il don't seem to look at it the way you do, |
but Of course you are the best judge. Pa
! ought to say,
las silently she trips along
In autumn's yellow tracks
"Wouldn't that do ?"
do! just look at it. Does tracks rhyme
TO rocks? Not in the Brooklyn Eagle, it
don't. Besides, when you say tracks and
rocks you give the impression Of some fel-
heaying things to another fellow who's
scratching for safety. Socks, on the other
hand, rhymes with the rocks and beauties
hem, while it touches up the milkmaid, and,
~ describing her condition, shows her to be
4 child of the very nature you are showing
up
II think you're right" said the sweet an
gel. I'll tell papa where he was wrong.
This is the way the fifth verse runs:
"And, close behind. the farmers boy
Thrills forth his simple tunes,
And slips behind the maiden coy
"And splits his pantaloons, Done it my
'elf know just exactly how it is. Why,
your heart, you"
Snip, snip, snip. Paste, paste, paste. But
t IS with q saddened heart that he ships and
'astes among bis exchanges now. The
beautiful vision that for a moment dawned
lpon him has left but the recollection in his
leart Of one sunbeam in his life, quenched
y the shower Of tears with which she de-
him as a ssnasty bgute,' and went
ut from him forever.
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