The Van Buren press., 1894-09-15
A YOUTHFUL SHELLEY.
How His Poem Was Printed in the
Gaze tie.

'The Shelley of Muskrat Swamp
lay dying in his bunk. There was no
doubt about that whatever to any or
dinary dispsssionate observer. But
the one observer, the sole critic of the
moribund poet, was not dispassionate,
and he refrained from obtruding the
fact upon the notice Of the sick youth.
Outside the wind roared through the
bush; the churncd waters OF the an
cry Ottawa beat against the wooden
piers, their rough music calling upon
the youthful Shelley to depart through
the Valley Of the Shaiow. although he
knew 1t not.
Amid the bowling Of the wind, the
hoarsc roar of the hood, the crackle OF
the logs upon the hearth, came the
soft. silvery tones Of the invalid. rccit-
ing . moving composition which had
occupied his attention for the last ten
hours. that is, when he was not other
wise occupied In splitting blood or
coughing. The one oil lamp on .
wooden stool by his bunk gave ont q
smoky light, through which the boys
eyes shoDc with unearthly brilliancy.
Jake, Timber Jake, as he was popu-
1srly known among the gentlemen
he distinguished by his jovial prefer
ence-sst ON the only other stool which
the log hut bossted.
Now and then he threw in different
suggestions As to the originality of the
posvs natural history. suggestions
which the latter received with petu-
liant impAtience. Though these con-
tributions to the literature of his ma
tive land were invariably rejected.
Timber Jake continued to listen to the
poem with labored cordiality. At In
tervals, when he was evidently ex-
pccted to applaud, he did so with tin
spoon against . battered old kettle, at
the same time drawing the coverlet
over the wasted arm which held the
sheets of MS.
There" said the poet, rs he finished.
''Stop your internal row for moment.
What do you think of that, JslxeP"
me not bein' q scholard," Jake re-
piled, in slow, simple tones, ss he
dropped the spoon on the ground, ''me
not bein' . scholard, you sex to me, ez
between man and man: Jake. old
pard, how does 1t pan outT And ]
SEE to you, me not bein' a scholard,
but o. between man and man: Bed
rock, every dsrned line Of It, Bed
rockr Thar's things there like the
singin' Of robbins in spring; thar's
things there like the little flashes OF
light when dragonflies goes across the
sunshine; thar's things there ez
Shakespeare couldn't ha' done. or-or," !"
somewhat lamely added. "the Frisco
Times, or any Of them mud-colored
ink-slingers over the river"
The youths cheek flushed warmly ut
this whole-hearted eulogy. At the
sound of 1t he momentarily turned
away from the entrance to the Valley
of Death. Then he shook his head,
and fell back In the bunk with sigh.
Maybe. jake" he said. Maybe;
but for all that the burned old editor
Ut Marysville won't print 'em unless
they're paid for ut advertisin' rates
He sent back the last lot sorter sar-
castle, with his compliments to The
Shelley of Muskrat swamp and he
wasn't takin' any stock In poetry or
chipmunks just 4hen.'
An ominous frown gathered ON
Timber Jake's brow.
"Bcin' one-hoss concern, he nat'ral-
ly wouldn't know real high-toned
poetry when he had 1t chucked under
his nose. the fapdoodle-eatin' slum-
gulliou. You lowed Jest now ex you
felt sort of chill when his arnser
csne back?" "a
'sAdeath chin, Jake. Timber raft
ing begun it, and that Marysville
coon's sorter finished me up. Yes, I'm
goin' under. Don't you hear the river
callins callin', calm: Come away?'"
Jake lid afIect to despise the grav-
ity OF the situation, bit listened to the
roar Of the rapidly rising river against
its banks
lyon don't feel. he asked, quietly,
''you don't feel sorter called to wrastle
It ont stead Of passin' in your checks?'
There was tremor in his voice, which
the other was quick to note.
mot burned wrastle," said the
poet, falling back again, and letting
his two sheet Of manuscript rustic to
the door. I'm played out, Jake
done fur. 6omething'll bust in day
or two and finish me OF. I'd have
liked to see this yer chipmunk foolish
ness in print before vamoc sd the
ranch: r ut another niRht'll finish me.