The news & observer. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 1894-current, 1899-10-08
I'M THE LD7TERARY WORLD.

AN AUTUMN LANE and other poems
by Will Il. Hale. Price S1.00. Publish
ers: Publishing House. NJ. Il. Church
South, Barbee x Smith, Agents, Nash
vile, Tenn.
Mr.. Lame has written many poems
some of high merit, notably Autumn
Leaves" which is given the title OF hi
recent volume of poems. lt is neatl,
and elegantly printed. adorned by q
portrait OF Mr.. Lane, and will no doubt
have wide sale. He is n poet of ma
sure. loving to see God through nature,
and singing songs that touch the heart,
One of the best poems in the collection
general favortc-i Is Uncle Bills Let
ter" which is as follows:
We had note the other day from Unclc
BIN, out West;
Been gone some twenty years or more,
an is by riches blessed,
He sent his photograph along, an in
his letter said
He's Twin ON the ranch alone, an never
yit has wed.
Il guess the Maynard. guirl still lives,
he wrote ans purity still
She who was knowed as RoNey when
was simply Bill"
We showed the photograph to her; she
read the letter through:
An with little sigh She saba lit
tie nervous, too;
well. Mr.. Smith deserves good luck
noble heart, God knows
An then her faced turned strangely
pale--a white and withered rose.
Perhaps the kind words fetched a chord
that straight-like felt u thrill
'.She who was knowed as Roxey when
l was simply Bill
They's undercurrents in all lives! ;. !.
Around her children play:
She has a husband who is kind-an yit
who knows. that day
When She remembered that one heart
in all the world of care
Still turned to her In thoughtfulness
and guessed her pale cheeks fair,
She felt a feelin' of regret thought of
the dead dream still
When one was simply Roxey an one
her lover Bill?
PATCHWORK. The Poems and
Prose Sketches Of Maley Bainblidgc
Crist. Illustrations designed by Mrs.
David Bot Manley. Publishers, The
Martin Hoyt Company, Atlanta, Ca.
The sketches ard poems that compose
this book originally appeared in Frank
Leslie's Popular Monthly and in res
ponse to Il demand for them in perma-
rent shape this volume is printed. ;la
author whose writings have pleased
many and given her reputation, is the
wife CT Alexander G.. Shaw. Esq. cf
North Carolina. and that relationship
gives her literary work an interest to
north Churchman'S. But it has merit ot
its own. One of the poems Re
greet" will give an insight into the style
of the accomplished author:
REGRET.
All everfn' I've been settin' here
A-cryin' to myself,
Over this ragged little book,
From off the garnet shelf.
It's twenty years an over now,
,Sence / have seen the book,
Il felt so lonely-like tonight,
4 | thought I'd go an look
Fer it; fer somehow all these years
I've haIkered fer that book,
a-layin' there deserted AN
Dust covered in its nook.
j couldn't trust my feelin's though,
An so / let it lay
All dusty ON the garnet shelf
{, Until this very day.
You see it b'onged to little Tom,
Who died long years ago;
1t seems to me but yesterday,
STshoIItoll firn5A docs drag e0 show.
Il almost see his little head
A-bendin o'er the book,
A-lookin' at the picters there,
AS children like to look.
/ almost hear his little voice
Ring out in merry glee,
As he'd pick out the pioters int
AM tell NV them to me-
lis SUNNY cuurls a-turmblin' down
Jes teolpin' wv the book,
While be looked at the picters int
As children like to look.
The losin' of him, | might stand,
Though time does drag so slow,
Ef it was not fer what / done
MORN twenty years ago.
One br'ilin day I'm summer time
When Id been workim hard,
4AHDakIn. All a-WaShln, all
A-weedin in the yard.
My little Tom came ralnnin' up,
A-holslin' of the book.
AM sayin, '.See this picter, dear,
Oh mother. please do look"
But | was warm, am awful tired
AM didn't want to see,
IN so | turned an slapped the child,
An cried, Quit botherin' me.'
| still kin see the big tear-drcTs,
Come to his little eyes;
But how should / know baby Tenn
Was ripenin' fer the skies?
AM THAT day was the very last
He ever teched the book
He went an put it ON the shelf
With sech sorry look.
An that night he WIS taken SICK.
An all the time he'd say.
"Oh mother, won't bother you,
III take my book AWAY"
/ hear it durin' all the day,
! hear il all the night:
N II.