Springfield globe-republic. (Springfield, Ohio) 1884-1887, 1886-08-15


The orator. or reader, arrived next. He
was hustled in 10y IA bevy of fair women in
front and also in the rear He carried the
signs of dyspepsia, melancholy, malaria and
three or four other foes to the flesh in his
face, and wore next to no hair at all This is
picture of him after he got well along with
his reading.
The vigorous Boston climate and too much
homage TO the fetch Culture had done their
fatal work | could not but think that he
ought 10 lie very careful what he said about
dead poets, since in all human probability be
would be called to account by some Of them
before great while. He was armed with a
stack of manuscript books, each an inch
thick, and read them conSCientiously through.
His essay was all able compilation" in
which poets of the past We're set on tolerably
nigh peicstalS-Such Of them rs he fancied
Gnethc and few Others he dismissed us "old
fellows" Of no particular Importance; but
Dante got his most flowery eulOEies
young lady of western origin, ROW a
resident of this city, accompanied me. While
the able orator cleared his throat at the end
Of the fifth book, preparatory to beginning
on the sixth. she whispered:
Boston dearly loves dead people The
deader they are the more it adores them. Ii
assumes that there are no living people worth
talking or writing about We live in an
atmosphere Of stale thought. lndeed, it
might he truthfully said that although We
take our meals in Boston, we really live in
ancient Athens. | often feel as if was =, ON
or 5000 years old"
This explanatory interlude threw light on
the settled look | had noticed on 40 many
faces-too much mousing in the past and
not half enough interest in living thought.
When the orator finished his sixth book with
a quotation in Massachusetts, Italian, IA buzz
of admiration burdened the air. He sat
down amid his flowers, half drowned in
smiles The ladies were greatly pleased
with him, but he was still more pleased with
himself
The president, n woman fair to see, thanked
him in the most overwhelming manner. He
rose and bowef'his profoundest acknowledge
mcnts He also murmured something 50 full
Of feeling that il died away behind the
flowers. He still stood Another lady arose,
and in trembling accents expressed heT
thanks for the precious privilege of hearing
the paper. From her words gathered that
she had had an exceptionally happy life, full
of joys, blessings and opportunities but they
all paled in comparison with the pleasure OF
hearing the orator of the day on dead poets.
In fact, she WAS well nigh overcome by the
kindness of heaven in being spared 10 make
one Of the favored company. Mr. Grindwell
took it seriously, as it was meant, and grew
more and more in love with himself
This WAS the ninth essay read to that club
on the same subject within thr,e years. Oh
serve the luminosity and breadth of the
clergyman'~ spectacles. He wears two pairs,
which indicates that he looks at things far
beneath the surface. Ny wicked western
friend whispered that the prutuberance on his
right side was caused 10y masked liver pad.
One lady near me slept profoundly through
a large portion of the reading; but at its close
she arose and said never in her hfe bad she
heard 50 able, clear and exhaustive a dis
course on poets rs this one Another lady
arose and said the same thing. And still
another and another. The scene began tO
take on a startling likeness to Patience
Bunthorne wasn't young, but he was happy
Une, two. three, four more ladies arose in
turn to pour out their gratitude for the flood
IF light cast IN dead poets. 1t was touching.
The hald BunthOrne still stood Then the
whole club, realizing afresh how much il
owed him, united in solid vote Of thanks
This cleared the sky of the excess of gratitude
which was fast choking everybody. When
Mr.. Grindwcll had again bowed his thanks
another woman sprang up and implorcd him
to tell them something about the ideal The
reverend gentleman felt nervouSly in his vest
pocket without finding even Il scrap Of -the
IDEAL" and excused himself
The meeting was finally broken up, and the
intellectual Bunthorne again received the
bread of individual thanks, cut partic ularly
thick, and well buttered He also received
six or eight enormous bouquets, and went
away as fiuwer-iaden as a young and beauti
full dehutante
That's the way we acquire our culture,
said my satirical friend.
Yes: that's the way we exAlt each other,
she continued. If anybody jumps over
broonIstick here, We ali unite i'll declaring
that no one else could do il with such race,
elegance and art, and day or two later we
assert that the same person could jump over
and We believe it, too. Take any thought
eifeCt tt II is the kind Of meat we feed on
to make Us great in our own estimation. We
exalt each other all the time. 1t develops
self-contidence, and that moves the world.
Perhaps YOU might call this conceit or ego
tiSln: but, YOU see, 1t keetis Us in good humOT
with ourselves, and i'll a ssate of admiration
for each other" GERTRUDE GARRISON.
OVERRIDING the Cheap Book Business.