The Wichita daily eagle. [volume] (Wichita, Kan.) 1890-1906, 1894-08-12


hundred efforts per year of this charac-
ter are sent TO me by the authors. with
request that | will use my influence"
toward brifi%.ng these gems of the car
buncle order TO the notice of the editor,
when, as a matter of fact, there was
never in the history of American letters
time when editors were more just to
unknown writers than today.
Last week an editor asked my advice
regarding theacceptance of short story
sent to him by an amateur who COM
mands readily 800 per 1000 words.
This shows that name alone will not
sell literary JOB, and it is equally true
that a meritorious piece of work viii be
hailed with JOY from the most obscure
writer. In fact, the tendency today is
in the direction Of discovery and the
working of new prospect holes rather
than the continuance Of old and well
worked mines.
Let NE add one more specimen of Mr..
Fuller's work, begging Miss Hunts par
don. however. IL Is rather IN the line Of
society verse:
N LUMP.
To our remembering Hunt,
We come in lump,
On the threshold OF life,
We need her in life,
As the same young girl Mamie Hunt.
With Fave of Branch,
She cherishes Blanch,
To help at her sides,
With men of such pride.
This irresistible Miss Hunt.
The wheels Of her carriage,
How merely they explore,
AS a wheel within wheel she ig
nores.
Eut when at time.
Like fashion divine
And branches to divine,
We are sure 10 see Mamie Hunt
Attached on behind.
Is not an uncommon thing,
To her on the wing
From her merry mouth spring,
Young chap that the thing.
Oh Evering Branches,
Eve has bewiching giances.
When the soda water Frances;
Right beside the gents wing.
lean never discover
BY some way or other;
Which hunt up the spring,
With the soda fountain spring.
The wheels of Mamie Hunt,
Coming on a spring to;
Dash away the mean,
Which is generally seen.
On Ashrville street scene;
A charm now Mamie.
You are real mean. j. NJ. T.
"Evering' is an adjective derived from
the word Eve, take it, and is used with
an annual poetic license which Mr.. Full
Ter should not be permitted to renew.
From the gay to the grave let me sud-
denly hop as the humming bird may be
seen to fit from petunia TO precipice and
present bona fide epitaph handed to
me this morning by good friend:
LINES on TIE DEATH OF CAREY WIND.
How sad to think of little Carey,
Who was washed and dressed like fairy.
The dear treasure, Joy and pride
OF parent and of friends besides.
She was a sweet and lovely child,
Lent us just for a short while.
She is now on earth no more
To greet US with smiles pure.
Riding out once she handed to me
Flowers plucked OF the bay tree.
Her face was happy. lovely and gay
AS thanked her for the bouquet.
Now she is sleeping at rest,
No more trials or pain. forever blest.
Grieve mob, parents. relatives, friends,
Bear patiently the trial God sends.
-Eulalie Turnipseed.
Below l give little poetic episode
which has an original plot. 1t is from
Ga unknown author:
Here is peach" the boy said,
Dangling on the tree.
II shall no longer dangle.
I'll place it inside of me-"
Here i boy" the peach said,
With n laugh that was low and mean.
allow he viii feel when he finds out
How hard / am and green!"
So the boy hath piuci,ed the green peach
And slid down over the wall,
And all that long, long summer night
II never hurt him at all
These selections serve to pave the way
for bright little poem written by me