The Middleburgh post. [volume] (Middleburgh, Snyder Co., Pa.) 1883-1916, 1889-11-28

4 "ssf soi 'ic iooh was SiOWlnR COiu. Du
the chill air did not affect me. l wa,
giving birth to poem. The seconc
stanza came easier. What bothered m,
most was the rhyme. I think, to tn,
best Of my recollection, that the second
instalment consumed half hour of in
tense thought. | was better satisfied
than with the first stanza, because knew
it was truer. Here it is, just as / read il
to Nellie:
His comb Is as red as ruddy wine,
His breast is shining sheen:
But his carcass is safe from me and mine
We can't pick his wishbone clean.
The muse was rather skittish at the
third stanza. coaxed her with pipe
of tobacco, the fumes of which made Mel
lie cough, and l persuaded her to go to
bed. The clock struck IL. The wind
ratified the window frame and began to
think that poets earned their money.
| almost fell asleep over this stanza.
While laboriously constructing il there
came n picture to me of the old farm
house in the Catskills, the table groauing
with its weight of good things. 1t oc.
Cured to me just here that / was doing
the groauing now. When finished, after
many interlineations and corrections, il
read as follows:
There was n time long, long ago.
When deprived OF his feathery vest.
i seized his leg in my strong right hand.
And dissected his meaty breast.
BY this time had got into the spirit
of my undertaking. The lines ran off
the end of my pen as smoothly as water
runs off ducks back. With conf
dent smile / finished the last verse.
The next morning / had to fill up the
hole in ten-cent piece with soap and
ashes in order to deceive the toll -taker at
the elevated railroad station. All the
way down town | read and reread the
alleged poem, trying to perfect it. When
/ arrived in New York hesitsted before
the big newspaper offices, afraid TO &C
in. At last l managed to pluck up
courage enough to 20 up stairs, where,
contrary to my expectations, Il was kindly
received and was told that my poem
would be read, and il it possessed sufii-
cient merit it would be printed Twas
encouraging, to be sure, but what was |
going to do in the meantime for the
turkeyl
The day was spent in she usual way.
running around looking for a job and
finding none. ] managed, however, to
earn fifty cents by carrying some coal.
1t hurt my pride to do it, but the faces
Of the children rose before me, and |
would almost have committed murder
just then.
With a heavy heart started to walk
over the bridge just after sunset. The
wind blew cold from the northeast, and
buttoned my coat close to my chin. 1t
was a starlit night. The great towers
loomed up above me like entrances to
some gigantic temple. The river rushed
and swirled below, and reflected in silver
CLEANS the light from the electric lamps.
/ could see the little waves capped with
foam. 1t was fascinating sight, and
felt strangely drawn toward the river.
For time forgot the babies and Nellie.
Behind me was the great, roaring city,
with its thousands of men and
women struggling for existence. l
had been trsmpled under foot in the
w nN ICutW
the battle? As brooded over the river,
chilled to the marrow by the searching
wind, the water seemed to beckon me.
It's shifting currents whispered ''Come; !"
its shadowy, cleaning riffs, its miniature
malestroms seemed to my excited fancy
TO say: "lIcre's rest for you. Wen
bear you away to dreamland, where hun
ger and pain and sorrow are drowned in
the nepenthe of eternal rest"
In this state of partial unconsciousness
began to climb up the railing to reach
the roadway below, when policeman
touched me ON the shoulder and told me
to "moye on" did move on, but in
dazed, uncertain way, until ! reached
the Brooklyn entrance. Here the crowd
from the cars was pouring out IN the
street like torrent, and in the crush
was hustled about and at last stumbled
into the arms of stout man muiiled in
an old army overcoat. He held me away
from him by my arms. Then he shook
me and said:
"What's the matter with you, Toml
Ye amt drunk, be yel"
There was something familiar in the
voice, and looking up | saw the homely
face of Sam Jones, of Shandaken, before
me. Then came another shake, and this
time came TO myself again.
SPY George, Sam, I'm glad to see
you" stammered.
"Well, let's go an get somethin' to
warm you up. You're near froze, man.
Thawed and melted by steaming cup
of coffee, told Sam all the sorrowful
story. How the children would be wait
ing at the station for me expecting the
turkey had foolishly promised them and
my inability to procure it, was inter