Press and daily Dakotaian. (Yankton, Dakota Territory [S.D.]) 1880-1889, 1886-08-13

II s-AG x
THE READER AS HE APPEARED BEFORE Il
CLUB.
The orator, or reader, arrived next. lie
waShustled in by a bevy of fair women in
front and also in the rear. lie 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
a 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 to be very careful what he slid about
dead poets, since in all human probability he
would be called to account by snIne of the:s
before u great while. He was armed with a
stack of manuscript books, each an inch
thick, and read them conscientiously through.
His essay was an "able compilation" in
which poets of the past were set on tolerably
high pcdestals-such of them as he fancied.
| Goethe and a few others he dismissed as "old
fellows" OF no particular Importance; but
Dante got his most dowery eulogies.
A young lady of western origin, nov 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 tho sixth. she whispered:
sBoston 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. Indeed, it
might lie truthfully said that although we
take our meals in Boston, we really live in
ancient Athens. l often feel as if l was 1900
or 5000 years old"
This explanatory interlude threw light on
tho settled look l had noticed on so 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, a buzz
of admiration burdened the air. He sat
down enid his flowers, half drowned in
smiles. The ladies were greatly pleased
with him, but he was still more pleased with
himself.
The president, a woman fair to see, thanked
him in the most overwhelming manner. He
rose and bowed his profoundest acknowledge
ments. He also murnured something SO full
of feeling that it died away behind the
flowers. He still stood. Another lady arose
and in trembling accents expressed hel
thanks for the precious privilege of hearing
the paper. From her words / gathered thai
she had had an exceptionally happy life, full
of joys, blessings and opportunities, but they
all pa1ed in comparison with the pleasure o.
hearing the orator of the day on dead poets
In fact, she was well nigh overcome by thu
kindness of heaven in being spared to MAKE
one of the favored company. Mr.. Grindwel
took it seriously, as it was meant, and grew
more and more in love with himself.
This was the ninth essay read to that clnl
on the same SUBJECT within three years. Oh
serve the luminosity and breadth of tn
clergyman's spectacles. He wears two pairs
which indicates that he looks at things fai
beneath the surface. My wicked western
friend whispered that the protuberance on hi
right side was caused by a masked liver pad
One lady near me slept profoundly through
a large portion of the reading; but at its clos
she arose and said never in her life had sh
heard so able, Gear and exhaustive a dis
course on poets as this one. Another lad,
arose and said the same thing. And still
s another and another. The scene began t
e take OF a startling likeness to Patience.
e Bunthorne wasn't young, but he was happy
/. One, two, three, our more ladies arose i
+ turn to pour out3their gratitude for the foo
: of light cast OH dead poets. 1t was touching
Q The bald Bunthorne still stood. Then til
whole club, realizing afresh how much
: owed him, united in a solid vote of thanks
This cleared the sky of the excess of gratitud
which was fast choking everybody. Whe
e Mr.. Grindwell had again bowed his thank
another woman sprang up and implored hir
e to tell them something about the ideal" II
reverend gentleman felt %nervously in his YES
pocket without finding even a scrap of 9Th
ideal' and excused himself.
Thu meeting was finally broken up, andth
intellectual Bunthorne again received th
. bread of individual thanks, cut particular
0 thick, and well buttered. He also receive
six or eight enormous bouquets, and wer
away as fower-laden as a young and beaut
5 full debutante.
!, "That's the way we acquire our culture
: said my s~atirical friend.
eyes; that's the way we exalt each other
L she continued. 4If anybody jumps over
broomstick here, we all unite in declarin
that no one else could do it with such grac
elegance and art, and n day or two later W
assert that the same person could jump Owe
a 1000 broomsticlss just as easily as over on
and we. believe it, too. Take any though
and foster it, and it will nave the san
y effect. That is the kind of meat we feed Q
to make us great in our own estimation. "
d exalt each other all the time. 1t develop
self-contidence, and that moves tho worlt
q Perhaps you might cali this conceiJ or eg'
! tism; but, you see, it keeps us in good hume
with ourselves, and iii a state of admiratiG
for each other" GERTRUDE GARRISON.