Richmond dispatch. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1884-1903, 1890-10-18
Mr.. BOWSER'S POEM.
r PROVES TO BE A. DlRoE FOR THE
emBeRs OF fhe YEAR.
cu.at Mental Concentration-ItC Calls Out
an Offer from the Inventor of
Cure for Consumption.
detroit FREQ Fress.l

detroit Free Frsss.I
T Ind had a secret from Mr.. Bowser
for fully six weeks aud the fact so
weighed on my conscience that when he
came home the other evening | handed
him a newspaper and remarked:
"Mr Bowser, will you do me the
honor to read that little poem 2"
"Who is it by ?" he asked.
"Read it."
He read it and pronounced it little
cen. and then / was weak enough to
tell MIN | was the author.
"Oh you are, eh That accounts
for it.
"For what ?"
"For the namby-pamby style, the
vildness of the rhyme, and the higglety-
pigglety way in which it reads.
"Then you don't like it ?"
"Humph You'd better stick to
homework"
Everybody else says it's good. 1
have also written several little stories
which have been pronounced first class.
"Then they he'd to you"
"Perhsps they did, but l don't think
so. Maybe you could do better ?"
"Maybel know could The only
reason haven't made name in the lite
rary world is because I've been too busy
with real-estate matters. was just
thinking as / came home this evening
that I'd dash off something as a starter. "
"Well, l hope you'll succeed.
"Succeedl What are you talking
about? Do you imagine can't write
poem 2"
81 hope you cam
A STUDIED EFFORT.
He turned away in disgust. and after
supper he went into the library, closed
the folding doors, and sat down to work.
! carefully pulled one of the doors open
until | could see him. He got out pen,
ink, and paper briskly enough, but then
came a sudden pause. He scratched his
head. caressed his ear, toyed with the
pep, aud it was good half-hour before
ne got name for his poem.
"Mr. Bowser :" | called from the
other side of the door. "haye you got it
finished ?"
FINISHED 1 haven't been here two
minutes yet. L don't propose to write
trash.
1t was Just twenty-five minutes by the
sittin0-room clock before he began on
the first line after selecting the title,
and when he came out at 10 o'clock |
knew he had only three lines finished.
These he had copied and recopled a
dozen different times.
"Through ?" queried as he appear
ed.
"Mighty anxious. aren't you ?" he
sneered. "You may see my effort when
1t is in print, but not before. "
For the next six evenings Mr.. Bowser
WAS closeted with himself and that
poem. Then, as | knew by his general
demesnor, his work was finished. |
crept down stairs after he was asleep
and found it in the desk, all ready for
mailing. The first verse ran as follows:
"The leaf is faning-the wind is sobbing,
And tho autumn IS at hand so dreary ana tor-
! lOrn,
And the embers Of the dying year must remind
all of Us
That everything diss-eyerything that was
ever bOrn.h
There were eleven other verses, all OF
I the same piece of goods, aud covered an
| inch deep with the embers OF the dying
wear. crept back to bed to find Mr..
| Bowser resting on his back and wearing
p sweet smile Of confidence and satlsfac-
/ ton. Next morning L carelessy In
CURED:
Don't you want me to look over that
poem with you before you send it oil !? "
"What for ?"
"Perhaps | could suggest some
/ changes for the better"
You improve my poems Well, If
that isn't assurance wouidnt be as
conceited as you are for ton of gold.
"But my literary efforts have been
published and are we'll spoken of. D."
Nonsense? The editor knew you
were my wife, and your friends dare not
condemn you to your face. Drop 1t,
Mrs. Bowser-drop it and decorate Jugs
and crock.
AN OFFER FOR THR POEM.
I didn't say any more, but watched
every issue OF the paper knew he would
send it to. He also did the same, but
very slyly. After about week l OBJ
served:
"Has your poem appeared yet Mr..
| Bowser
Il think not, have neither received
a bundle Of copies Of the issue contain
ing it, nor had letter from the editor
don't look for it under another week.
| presume the editor took it home to
read to his family, and it may now be
passing around among the tterdti.
"Suppose it should be reiected?"
"W. h.a-tl !" he exclaimed, leapng out
of his chair and dancing around. Pub
lish your sawdust and reject my pure
goldl Mrs. Bowser, you have some
queer ideas-very queer"
"In case it is not published L hope
you" go, -,
"But it will he published !"
] said no more, and he turned TO his
paper. Half an hour later there was a
ing at the bell, and Mr.. Bowser went to
answer it and admitted O strange man.
The strange man handed Mr., Bowser a
letter from the editor Of the paper to
which he had sent his poem. | got hold
of only about half of it. 1t introduced
the stranger as all right, and advised
Mr.. Bowser to close With his offer.
II y ~ Ia