Baxter Springs news. [volume] (Baxter Springs, Kan.) 1882-1919, 1890-11-15
THE CONFESSION OF BILL NYE.
Being n Truo Story OF How This Base
Man Came TO Write the Poem
of Beautiful Snow"
Bill Nye In New York World.

w III tHC NOIlu newspaper uuOW hO
space in lis valuable columns to state
fully and finally under what circum-
stances wrote the now famous poem
called beautiful Snow ?"
had been reared in luxury, and as
a youth did not have to do anything
but cut cordwood and clear off timber
land, but in an evil hour l was tempt
cd to go to the great city, where folks
did not readily fall into my ways. So
left the clearing, and, like Cincinnati
us, l also left my steers standing IN the
furrow, to strike out for the ripsnort-
ing town. At first l was afraid Of the
cars and would shy little when the
baud played, but gradually got used
to il, and II things sort of startled Inc
l concealed il, and could almost fool
some people and make them think l
was town-bred, although | even yet
hold a cigar like an immigrant and
dodge when l sit by car window and
go past telegraph pole.
had not been in the city long be-
fore noticed that though l was OBJ
served 1 was not recognized as gen.
eral thing. Observation without rec.
ognition is a metropolitan popularity.
| soon grew to be more and more va
cant and the different coats of my
stomach began to get ont at the elbows
for l had brought my sylvan appetite
with me and also glazed pOrtman-
teau, which would not stay shut OK
cept when l wanted to open it 10 see if
my new kip boots were still safe.
L walked up and down the same
street good many times trying to
look like 1 was really going some
where, which, as heaven is my judge,
l was not. l stopped now and then
to scratch my chilblain against the
curb and look at the most expensive
diamonds in the jewelry show-win-
dows, and, though my taste was pleas
cd and gratified, it only annoyed and
tantaized my appetite.
For days and nights l did this, hop
ing that some kind banker would al
low his team to run away near me, so
that could save his little daughter
and get chance to wet my finger on
a sponge at his counter and count his
coupons for him. But when you come
to consider this in a cool, methodical
way, you will see that it is most I'M
certain method for obtaining situa-
ton, for bankers are getting more
careful in selecting their horses, and
also the coachman generally takes his
pick of the daughters, thus leaving
talented but freckled young buck
wheaters 10 marry otherwhere.
was so empty that when button
ed my vest in the morning could hear
it echo along down my corridors. l
thought of begging, but could not do
that. So / said l must starve. If l
had not been SO hungry would have
gone home, where barrel of picked
pork and bin of atrophied potatoes,
with pale green sprouts a yard long,
Just fairly held out their long arms to
me. But l had put il off too long now.
l must die on the streets of a great
city and be all mussed up by all au-
topsy. l put on a clean shirt so that l
would not shock the authorities too
much, and then composed myself
and waited for death. l waited quite
awhile and thought l was going.
Then the smell of soft-shell crabs came
to my surprised and astonished senses.
1t was awful. / rose up and tore out
few handsful or handfuls of hair, for
could afford it at that time.
Suddenly came the temS tation to
lead an immoral life. did not know
whether to do that or write poem.
saw on every hand how vice throve,
while agricultural virtue stood around
and chewed imaginary victuals.
Oh, it was an awful hour! In the
midst of it all I said at last: "No, l
will not lead q life of shameful
have tried literature anyhow. l will
compose poem. for according to what
l have head l am just about hungry |
enough 10 do good literary work" So
seated myself by the waning light
and on sheet of brown wrapping
paper, with a piece of keel, l wrote
the words of Beautiful Snow"
/ can show you the spot yet. 1t is
between the old Castle Gardens north
west corner and pier one of the North |
river. 1 also have what is left of the
piece of keel and my unsoiled charac-
ter. Oh, how little l care for the hon
or of writing beautiful Snow" when
l think that It saved me, for / took il
to an editor and was going to read il
to him. He was irritated, because II
was Saturday and the business office
had expressed wish 10 usurp the ed
itorial page for advertising purposes,
and he was SO hot that he told me to
90 where it had been the whole aim of
my life thus far to avoid aud escape,
and he said also that If / would not
read the poem and would go far, far
away aud never como back any more
he would give me dollar. / closed