Evening journal., 1892-12-06


pleasure. Toni noml suppose ]
ought to feel complhmented; but don't
Young lady. will you do me one favorT
"What is it. sirs'
Put that stupid trash into the FIRE.
"Stupid trashv cried Addie, aghast
snatching up the volume.
"Yes, wrote it. was a boy-and,
by George, my publishers took it out of
my desk and went mad over it, while
they actually turned up their noses ~
my report of the poor laws-would you
believe itg'
Ny uncle looked sympathizing- Addie
arranged the ice cream glasses before
him without a word
But. sir look at the fame you have
won, / remarked.
"Heml fame-its rag futtering on
a bush wouldn't give button for it,
Five thousand dollars a year viii keep
you we'll clothed and well fed-fame
won't"
He helped himself to an ice.
There was no reply. The two gentle
men resumed their political discussion.
waxing so warm in the defense of their
favorite views that they were in fair
way to clear the tray between them.
/ Addie caught up the contemned volume
of poems and vanished from tho room.
followed her. She fed up the stairs
like fairy. and found her in the poets
chamber, stripping the roses from the
vases with frantic haste
"What on earth are you abouts"
asked, halting on the threshold in amaze
ment.
"He shall not have one Of them, she
said, half crying. "His curtains shall
not be looped up with them-I have a
great mind to tie them back with rope
yarn. To think how we worked al the
day to give him pleasure, and after all
he only cares about eating and drinking,
and being an alderman. Oh it is too
badr'
burst out laughing and ran down
stairs The contrast between our
dreams of the poet and the poet as he
was was rich. had TO wait q moment
in the hall to get my face into company
order and then, pushing open the half
closed door, went back into the parlor
AT first sight thought it was empty.
The chairs were pushed away from the
table, and there was n faint smell of
cigars-had they actually been smoking
there2 No; heard my uncle pacing M
and down the garden, as was his wont
each evening, and the fragrance Of the
weed came that way, but he was alone
Where was the poeR
/ caught sight of him at last, sitting
at the open window with the rose col
ored curtains falling in soft folds around
him. The moon was up, shining glori
ously upon the grassy yard beneath
him; the night wind rustled in the
leaves of the naples above his head
Addie. coming into the room, paused a
the sight Of my uplifted finger on thl
threshold.
1t had been all "sham" thenl Oui
poet, though a hearty eater, still re
tanned his love of the beautiful. Wha
on earth had made him talk such heresy
when he sat raped in enjoyment, neve
stirring, scarcely breathing, as h
watched that glorious moon? / woul'
steal softly to his side, pause, try Il
I convict him and make him recant al
the fbs he had told about these beauti
full blossomings of his youth-the poems
: The carpet was thick and soft, and
mulIled my football effectually, and
stood beside him unnoticed. His fac
was hidden by his arm. Iheard "a chok
ing sound-he was weeping. My hear
! melted in q gush Of pity; laid my han
. upon his shoulder as sympathizingly a
/ could; Ire started little; his head SCI
tied down upon one side, exposing hi
7 face; the month opened, and--he snored
+, The next morning ] started on my tri
TO the west, aud from that day TO this
have never met a ''poet. IN. w. q. i
, New York News.