Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1894-11-24

promise this position and that position, but
when the poor, deluded constituent comes
down here to Washington the cupboard is
bare, and somebody else has all the
bones"
y think" said the Congressman's wife,
with emphasis, and an air of hidden mean
ing, that perhaps Mother Hubbard was
so tormented by the dog while she was
trying to attend to her household duties
that, in desperation, she promised him the
bone to get rid of him. Office seekers, you
know, make a Congressman's life burden
to him, and I heard one Senator say that
after he had finished running errands for
his constituents he was too tired to care
whether the country went to smash or
not"
Miss Pension Bureau coughed uneasily,
but the bride, who had not heard word
OF what was going on, looked up from her
copy Of Mother Goose, and broke the
somewhat pronounced silence with
"Oh. here's just the sweetest little poem!
So simple! So earnest! So helpful!
Leg over leg, as the dog went to Dover;
When he came to a stile, jump, he went
over"
There was a decided smoker from the
bluet hat, but the bride was too intent on
her verse to hear it.
Isn't that lovely? I take 1t to mean
that the people who jog on quietly, con-
tentedly, attending to their own affairs
the commonplace, everyday people, you
know-are quite capable of rising to actual
greatness; when occasion requires 1t they
every obstacle"
Bravo for bridie! whispered Mrs. Fin
de Steele to Mrs. West End. II didn't
think she had 1t in her."
Great things are always done by people
from whom least is expected" said Mrs
Georgetown Heights. Brilliant people
spend their energies as they go. The plod-
ders conserve all their energies until, when
an opportunity comes they do something
really great. The time makes the man."
"Ah. yes" said the literary member. re-
fectively, and quite as If it had just &C.
CURED to her. but think Of the man OF
genius whose opportunity never comes
What a fearful fate is that of Columbus
who has failed to discover his world!'
That's Gautier." whispered Mrs. Fin de
just digests a book of quotations, and then
reels 1t off as If every word of 1t were her
own"
What the World Needs.
zone Of Mother Gooss's most familiar
poems has SO far been entirely neglected"
said the tailor-made woman.
Little Tommy Tucker
Sings for his supper,
What shall he eat?
White bread and butter.
How shall he cut 1t
Without any knife?
How shall he marry
Without any wife"
That's one of the clearest and simplest
poems, too. Tommy Tucker Is In want
of the century philanthropy falls to dis.
cussing him. How shall he be relieved?
It falls to theorizing, 1t holds conventions,
reads exhaustive papers, elects delegates
to other conventions and treats poor Tom
as IL he were a new species of mollusk or
a newly discovered trilobite instead OF
human being"
TON Tucker may stand for any abuse. 1t
seems to me-" said the bluet hat. What
we want in anything Is not theory, but
practice. For my part l believe nearly
every evil in the land could be remedied
If instead Of preaching sermons about II
or writing books on the subject people
just got down TO work and went at IL,
tooth and nail. You hear such deal
about the country being in the hands of
corrupt politicians. If that's true it will
go right on being true till respectable peo-
pie quit discussing white bread and butter
and take control of things into their own
hands. There are always more respecta-
BILE people than knaves in a community"
There may be two opinions about that"
said the hostess, but In the main think
your exposition hath been most sound.
Some of the talk about reform, however,
makes me think of this poem:
=" There was an old woman tossed up in
basket,
Ninety times as high as the moon;
And where she was going l couldn't but
For in her hand she carried broom.
Old woman. old woman, old woman, quoth !.
WHITTIER o whittier, o whittier SO high2
To sweep the cobwebs off the sky!
Ard I'll be back again by and by
THAT Is the genius who lacks practical
common sense, and why the most uncom-
mon thing in the world should be called
common sense / never could tell, and
spends his energies in attempting some
impossible thing that wouldn't do the
world any real good, even if 1t were ac-
complished."
There you Mistake" said Mrs. West
End, gathering her feather boa about her;
of EnnN Lodi hnlYa II tc
way: Humanity is the weight on a n.y.
drcstatic bellows, and every drop of knowl-
edge added raises the standard Of civiliza-
ton so much the higher
Il don't quite grasp your metaphor"
said the hostess, rising to bid her guests
goodbye, land by the same token my
conceit tells me 1t must be very deep and
full of subtle meaning, but I've enjoyed
your meeting, and If you've enjoyed my
tea, please come again.
And the meeting adjourned.