The morning call., 1893-01-11
(klSKe ;!
= - Black
VU[301fG
NUMBER SEVEN.

Willie Jason is an apprentiee reporter on
morning paper. He had not worked long
enough to become full Pledged reporter,
but he IS genuine poet He says he was
born with poetry in his soul and it just tlut-
tiers out Ia spite of the fact that he is de-
stroying all pcetcal traditions by earning
as much as 81 week at "the scrbblng of
mere prose"
Hexameters flow as freely and naturally
through Willie's head as soap suds through
a rat hole. Dactyls don't bother him bit.
Rhyme and rhythm have been kicked
around for centuries waiting for somebody
TO be born who knew how TO handle them,
and Willie is the man. Willie knows that
he is a poet, but his only difficulty is IN get
ting other people TO lake his word for IL
and publish his poetry. Appearances 60
great way. SO Willie grew q Paderewski
head Of lair and attempted to cultivate
set of wniskerS like Joaquin Miller. his
last effort was a failure, however, and he
must rest content with Norwegian eye
brow on his upper lin.
"Ah, am so glad to see you," exclaimed
Willie. as he met an od-tme friend of the
family. What are YOU doing nowadays
Oh, yes; by Joye. You know / bad for
gotten that you are editing the Milpitas
Monthly. BY the way, | have little some
thing here In the way OF poetry that l
dashed off in an idle moment The poet
bushed and fun bled in the tail pocket of
his cutaway. Il viii just read it to yOu,
aud If ii is acceptable, or course you are
welcome TO it. This should command
good figure. but am always glad 10 help
out an old friend. and IL il will lend TO the
active interest felt by your readers in your
little Journal | should feel amply repaid.
lie drew paper sack from his pocket and
read the following:
sCORNED LOVE.
Ter dainty. gIistening, golden head
Was bowed In deep reflections;
The tearS that dmmed her eyes Of blue
Mere tributes OF affection.
One snowy hand cAres.ed a chin.
Hewitched BY a dainty dimple-
The work OF nature unadorned
BY arts considered simple.
Her sutton stands rejected there,
Each moment loving. scorniag.
May bur touch yonr hand" he Pleads.
"fhen viii say 'sood-mornins.'"
Alas, We partr' twas but sigh
That told Of his emotion
There's naught can heal the wOund you give
"In seorning my devotion"
A cleaning pistol flashes forth;
III aims It al his heal;
A shot cry His life is saved
But she is lying dead
THAT isn't any worse than boiler plate,
and | guess my readers can stand 1t IL /
can" thought tie Milpitas editor. ''Pil just
encourage the boy by publishing it,"
Willie's hair was standing on end when
he had finished killing the girl, and he
allowed IL to slowly settle into IFS natural
waves while waiting for his friends
"Tbars fine! That's out of sightp ex-
claimed the editor rapturously. when
your name appears at the bottom Of that in
the Milpitas Monthly it will become a house
hold word. Let me have il now"
'Yes, / thought il was good. but / never
submitted it to a critic before. Your APP
probation, however, is no more than | ex
pected. will have 1t typewriter and mail
it to you. GoOd-by. old man. Glad | can
help you little"
Tie editor wrote the following note to his
foreman that night:
Leave out enough bOller-plale to run short
poem, Which William Jason will send over. Pm
going IN Sacramento and won't be back until
next week. Run the poem on the front page. Ii
Is little raw, but Will do. promised TO run IL,
so don't leave It out. If Jamison brings In that
pup credit him with two years subscription.
Willie took his poem TO his collaboration,
the office-boy. and telling him that il had
been accepted and would be published in
the next edition Of the Mlpitas Monthly,
asked him to strike it off OH the typewriter
and mail IL that night.
The 0ffice-boy pondered. He had q
brother who was the only druggist in Mil
ptas. Wouldn't 1t be good advertisement
to sign his name in place of Jas0n's? He
read the verses again and came to the con-
clusi0n that If he really loved his brother
he had better not.
I've got to sneak an ad In somewhere"
he said 10 himself. He read the verses
again and then commenced in terlning. His
tongue worked with his pencil for half an
hour. Then he went TO work on the type
writer. Here is what appeared in the Mil
pitas Monthly:
SCORNED LOVE.
BY Willie Jason.
Der dainty, glstening, golden head,
Was bowed Ia deep reflection;
The tears that dimmed her eyes OF blue
Marred not her FOgs's Complexion.
One snowy hand caressed a chin
Bewtched by dainty dlmpies,
The work OF nature. but adorned
Ly Swiligs Rough on Pinples
Her suitor stands rejected there,
Zach moment loving scorning.
MAY but touch your Ia nd 90 he pleads,
II used Scrubbs Soap this mornin -"
Alas We partF' Twas but sigh