The times. (Owosso, Mich.) 1882-1897, 1893-08-25
Wards Words.
vindicates my position.
T. ID. DEWEY.

The autumn leaves of romantic poetry
already begin to float over the field of young
and gushing thought.
Only the other evening / was sitting in
my Office at the close of hot day, trying to
solve the silver question to my own salts
faction, when a slight, girllsh figure of
fifty or more and somewhat plethoric,
stepped in at the door and inquired in sill
very notes if was 'at homer"
"Most assuredly," said 1, being somewhat
attracted to her by the tone of her voice and
the color of her hair, which both cores
ponded with my train of thought, ''sit
down in the rocker and 1 will ring for a
cool glass of"-'beer," said she, interrupt
ing me.
''Excuse me, madam, but this isn't a
beer saloon. Will you have glass of lem
onade?"
swell, yes, if that's the best you can
do"
81 came" said she, slipping her drink
slowly, "to submit plan or outline of a
poem on Autumn which l want to get into
print before the rush comes, you know"
EYES," said /, weakly, ''there will be a
rush, undoubtedly"
eyes, and knew you would be such a
kind critic, too,". she went on, smiling on
me like happy duck.
Exactly" said l, 'and you have intro
duced all those familiar fall words, l pre-
cuua ouoh nc ssara opd yolIoxy ond stbo
twirling leaf,' changing hues,' and"
"Oh, my, yesw said she. ''ve got all
those beautifully expressive words woven
into my rhyme. But l may as well read it
to you, and then l want your honest opinion
There are only fourteen verses i'm it,
she continued, and my heart sank as
she drew forth her MS. 81 know
you will be delighted with it." She
moved her chair so that the rays of the
setting sun could glance across her SCROLL.
''Have help to read?" said /, smiling,
as l handed her pair of old spectacles
someone had left on my secretary.
''Sir-r-r!" said she, fercely, 'do you
mean to insult mc?"
''By no means, madam! A thousand
pardonsw
"You are excusable." she said, resuming
her silvery tone. 'Others have made the
same mistake. My hair was a gift of ma
ture, and am but a child in years."
was about to ask her if she wasn't born
toothless also, when she began to read
about
AUTUMN LEAVES.
Oh the glorious declining
OF summer sun, reclining
On q bank of western roses,
Sweet sunfowers and other posiesl
See the fading, fading sunbeam,
CHANGING from each little fish stream
AS 1t wriggles through the low land
Till it meets the ocean grand stand,
Where the
excuse me, my dear young FRIEND" said
1, interrupting her, but you seem TO run
more to roses than you do to falling leaves"
swell, amt got to that" said she, with
considerable asperity and vinegar for so
young girl. "When / get to that part
you'll hear it, mebby, if you amt deaf!'
''grand stand" was twisted somewhat to get
it into poem ON Autumn"
''Do, eh? They don't have fairs in the
fall, do they? You don't know Sick
emf" said she, as she gathered up her
autumn leaves and left the Office. You
could have heard her heels crack down on
the sidewalk for two blocks, with force
enough to snap percussion cap.
i had just brushed the dust of ages from
me, picked up a few of her teeth which flew
from her mouth in her excitement unno-
ticed, laid them away till called for and.
lighting cigar, was about to resume my
train of thought on the currency question,
when vertable sunbeam danced in and
said she:
"Ha! ha. ha! What in the world is the
matter with you? o, sayv' she continued
without giving me time to reply, "l've the
daisiest, sweetest, incest poem on 'Au-