Wheeling Sunday register. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1882-1934, 1893-03-26

i OH6I pIiLo HOItu boiuihk AOA VIZ
best four-line stanza ip praise OF the
Three P's, open to all Competitors, who
shall at the same time purchase four
packages, price 81, as an evidence OF
COON faith, and that prize is the hand
OF my daughter, together with the ad-
van oh, papa = cried, springing
to my feet, how dare you so insult
your motherless child >"
Course him" began Paul, pale and
breathless.
Hush, dear, the time for heroics has
passed. have been through all that
for the last two days, and now l realize
that the only way to meet crisis is Just
to meet it. l can't remember very
clearly what then ensued. l know l
was violently excited. 1 know papa
was at first surprised and then friGhten-
ed. Finally he said, doggedly: There's
no use arguing with a woman. She
would kick against the arrangements or
Paradise. But, scream or smile, It's
done, and you'll have to stand it, And
out he stamped from the room, and l
haven't seen him since"
"Done?" repeated Paul, vacantly.
"Why, yes. Haven't you seen 1t In
the papers?"
Alas, Paul was forced to explain that
owing to circumstances beyond his con-
troll he had lost intimacy with the daily
press. at is in every one OF them,
continued the girl. THE offer mean
A full-page advertisement, with dis
gushing descriptions and conditions aud
-and-everything. And, oh, how
ashamed 1 ami And how can 1 expect
any one to care for me? And-and-.
Go, leave mel" And poor Eunice, in
sobs, found the refuge OF her sex.
"We don't expect what we have"
said Paul after little. There is but
one thing for US to do. We must fly"
Fly! On what?"
On what, indeedl The wings Of
Dadalus were mighty in comparison
with those which that one poor check
could produce. Paul became silent and
gloomy.
NO" said Eunice decisively, 81 have
thought 1t all ovsr. You must be like
MontroSe and put your fate to the
touch, TO gain or to lose it ALL You
must make me glorious by your pen"
"Of cursel The contest! Why
shouldn't l win? I must! l will! 1
will work night and day. l will eX-
haust the resources Of poesy. l have
talent, some even say genius. And in
such easel Why there's my ode, To
Chloe you know whom l meant, dear.
Criticism said it was felicitOus union
OF Browning and Shelley. or course,
my chum Jack Briggs wrote the article,
but really think he was sincere. Now
1 will rise to lOfter strains"
"And achieve the waste basket at
papa's first glance. He is to be the sole
Judge. What do you think of that?"
Doubtless he is an expert on feet"
'On foot, and not on Pegasus, you'll
find him. If there is anything that he
utterly fails to comprehend and there
fore despises, it is your style of poetry.
Why, the other day he picked up the
magazine containing your sweet ode. 1t
happened to be opened at the very page.
What's all this nonsense about clothes?
he asked Ha, ha. His sort Of poetry
is like that sort Of rowing l read of
lately, the git thar stroke. he main
tains that Mark Twain is the greatest
living poet solely on account Of that
jingle about punching in the presence
of the passengaire."
"But what can do?"
Listen and then you'll know. In
the first place, such preposterous
scheme is sure TO cause public comment.
Oh, my poor little ears, how they will
burn! Go among your lively friends OF
the press and tell them that Peter Per-
rim is fervent admirer of Shakespeare,
Swinburne, and OF your prototype
Browning, in particular. Say that his
hearts avocation is the eluCidation OF
obscure passages aud that he could dis
cover beauty in the farrago OF a maniac.
Use your wits to inculcate the belief
that the victor must speak with the
tongue of angels, not Of men. 1t won't
be difficult TO accomplish, for every
tyro naturally daShes at the sublime
and stumbles over the bombastic. Poor
papa! What revenge I'm planning!
I think l can see him tearing manu-
scripts and his few remaining hairs
alternately. What relief 1t will be
when he comes upon yours.'
"Shall l try blue trip slip for P.
P. P.?"
"Ah. no! Papa prefers the poetry Of
his boyhood, for he has never gotten be-
yond it. He's q Self-made man, you
know, and self-made men are men only
in the line of their ambition. l suppose
poor papa really did 90 to school once.
And then it was that he must have
learned, How Doth the Busy Little
Bee The Boy Stood on the Burning
Deck and 'I'll Never Chew Tobacco,
Said Little Robert Reed These are mis-
ideals. He often quotes from them and
gets red in the face and swells all over
il one ventures to laugh. Paul, dear,
can't you do something after The Busy
Bee ?"
II don't know" said Paul modesty,
"Pll try. Let me see. How doth the
Pancreatic Pea"
That's it. Oh, do go onr'
"'DiSpel each ache and growl.'"
"Oh, Paul. You are so clever"
"'By chasing microbes all the day."
"Oh. dearw
Through liver, light, and'-and all
that sort Of thing, you know. How will
that work up?"
"Dlvinely. 1t couldn't be better. l
could fairly hug you, sir. Do go now,
dear, and herald the news of papa's
scholarship, and send in your verse.
Don't forget the dollar" Here Paul
WINGED, but bravely sSSented. Now
I'm sure this great trial will insure our
future happiness"
And, indeed, everything did transpire
as Eunice hoped. The scheme proved
a gigantic success. The verses fluttered
like midwinter snowfakes. The pellets
were Skinned by bales. And Peter Per-
rims store OF wealth was redoubled.
Perhaps this prosperity, together with
the reproschful memory of his daugh-