The Princeton union. [volume] (Princeton, Minn.) 1876-1976, 1892-08-18
POTIPHAR BAGGS, POET,

No ordinary child Of the muse was
Potiphar and no ordinary rhymes
were those Of his composing. His
poems were sacred things. dedicated
to and solely read by Victoria. by
grace of God queen Of Great Britain
and Ireland and Potiphar Baggs him
self.
His own family that is his wife and
daughter and OF course. the more
favored contidants of her most gracious
majesty. were also permitted to share
in the delights Of their theme and
meter; but their circulation was rigid
ly confined to the royal household it,
self and about half a dozen of the
most exclusive residents of Clementina
street San Francisco.
Since Potiphar had accepted the
pension OF the industrious excise
officer away back in the earliest sew
entities and emigrated to the far Pacific
Slope to Join the son who had pre-
celed him. he had devoted his entire
talents and energies to the compost
ton of Mandatory odes. idyls and epics
dedicated to the honored ruler OF the
country he had left behind. If a
royal duke got the grippe then Foti-
phars muse awoke and his loyal bo-
som throbbed forth pecan of poesy.
Similarly the potent passion burst
forth, in burning flames if royal
princeling took a wife or a royal
princess had baby.
Every quarter-day the poet left the
peaceful precincts of Clementina street
and wandered down to the British
consuls Office, where he dew his
emolument Of nineteen pounds ten
shllllngs sterling. or about $50 of
American money. Every quarter-day
he duly squandered the same. or the
greater part thereof on some fit and
proper Troublesome poetic token of
esteem-to Victoria, queen Of Eng
# land.
This invariably took the form OF an
original poem based on some regal
episode OF the preceding quarter
The manuscript. duly typewriter by
his daughters iance. Henry Selby.
was committed to the tender mercies
OF printer. who at vast expense
set up the same and printed it on
satin or velvet A fitting case to
hold the same and an obsequious note
engrossed on vellum to accompany it.
consumed whatever funds were left
over and above the cost OF publ
cation.
When all the preparations were
complete the work and trimmings
were carried home for Mrs Baggs and
-Emily's inspection.
In times gone by the advent of
Potiphar with her Ma;esty's poem
used to be a gala event and one
fraught with high revelry in the
Baggs household. Since Potiphar .Jr.
the only son and main support of
the famlly-had died. however. twas
hard very hard. for the faithful wife
to look pleased and happy and con-
graduate her husband and applaud
him in his work.
She never forgot her boys death;
she never forgot how his father had
buried his GRIFFIN the delight afforded
by an opportunity to immortalize his
only son in an elegy.
How she had suffered that dreary
day when the old man stood there bv
the black colin and canted and re.
eanted the gruesome rhymes OF which
every line but added to the mothers
and sisters torture. .....
Inc son, the brother. was dead
they knew he was dead. Was he not
lying there cold and stiff; and did
they not know his worth. and had
they not always loved him? What
did they care for eulogy or elegv?
vi what consolation was poetry while
the corpse lay there with closed ewes
and a face Of CHASTITY whiteness?
Then with the sons death came
poverty-poverty that pinched and
gnawed. poverty that humbled pride
and kept the CRATE. empty in the win d.
ter Time. OF course Emily was earn
Ing s4o a month at the telephone
Office on Pine street and Mr.. Selbv
was so good paying So a week for his
room when it really would have been
dear at 800, but it was hard work
TO grub along that way and spend all
that money on the queen when Emily
wanted warm wraps and things and
the doctor had advised her to try 2
trip to the country.
But Potiphar never noticed these
things, He was a poet. you see
Once he had been a common excise
'oftlcer-a mere gauger. in fact. bu,
that was long ago. He was q poet
now There was no poet like him,
and none so soli-l WITH the queen
anyhow. If there was no meat 10,
dinner-well, what does a poet want
with meat when he is brimm1ng owe,
with the divine affiatus? If Emily
wanted change-well she would ge
plenty OF change by and by when Ole
Iennyson died and Potiphar Bagg,
was created laureate to the court anf
crown of England.
All if only TeEnyson would die!
Iennyson--only Tennyson - stood
between him and endless fame an6
glory
Tennyson, the ancient decrepi,