Butler citizen. [volume] (Butler, Pa.) 1877-1922, 1902-01-09

cahOntaS sent in within thirty days.
1t is to be printed ia green and gold
and sent out as a souvenir of the fif-
tieth anniversary of the society"
"Yes, see."
There's five hundred dollars to be
picked up as easy as rolling off log,
to say nothing of poetic fame. With a
little help from you I'm sure l can
cooper the whole thing. I'm natural
poet anyhow, you know"
How can help your she asked as
she felt a sinking of the heart.
"On the rhymes. Two heads are bet
ter than one when you want to think
of words. Pocahontas was an Indian
girl, wasn't sheY
"Yes."
"And when her father was going to
brain Captain John Smith with a club
she stepped in and stayed his hand"
II believe So
"Well, I'll fix that up in short order.
Let me get paper and pencil. Now I'll
go ahead till / get stuck and then you
help me out. What in blazes is that
old cat grinning at me for?"
The cat was sitting in the middle of
the room with something like a grin
on her face as she looked from Bow
ser to Mrs. Bowser and back, but when
he jumped at her she retired under the
piano and waited for results. For five
minutes the natural poet sat and looked
up at the ceiling and tapped his teeth
with his pencil. and then he bent for
ward and began:
They had led him out to die
A soldier bold;
And a warclub was uplifted,
AS we told.
"That's the way lead off, and what
do you think of it?' he asked as he
handed the sheet over to Mrs. Bowser.
'Why, it reads all right" she said
after u minute; "but 1t seems to me
that you ought to have got in the name
Of Pocahontas at the very first"
Eyes, maybe l had. I'll try it that
way"
There was the deepest kind of silence
for the next fifteen minutes, and Mr..
Bowser wrote and scratched out and
wrote again. Then he leaned back and
said:
81 shall have to get your help. 1
can't go no further than:
"oh thou dusky Pocahontas,
From the camp OF Squantewantus,
A soldiers life you saved,
And fathers anger brayed,
That-that-
That's where want help. I've got to
work in days or ways or plays or
stays to make the rhyme"
"Who was Squantewantus" asked
Mrs. Bowser with puzzled look on
her face.
"He was her father, probably"
"But he was not. This incident Is q
matter of history, and has been pub
lished in all the schoolbooks, and you
mustn't make such a break as that"
Didn't you ever hear that there was
such a thing as poetic licenseT he
demanded as his eyes began to fash.
"Of course l have; but you can't in
vent a character named Squashington
to rhyme with Washington. You'll
have to drop Squantewantus."
"And you you, who don't know
poetry from peanuts, find fault with
my effortsr' gasped Mr.. Bowser as he
rose up. Woman, your impudence is
astoundingw
Il am only saying that there was no
Indian chief named Squantewantus,"
she replied.
But what has that got to do with
me-with my poem?" he shouted. "ls
there a goddess of liberty, and yet how
many poems have been dedicated to
herF'
But SQuantewantus!
"Squantewantus be hanged! Woman,
leave me alone. You have no SYM
pathy with my efforts or ambitions,
and / was an idiot for saying anything
to you. Get out and leave me to work
1t out alone, and, by the great horn
spoon, If l don't produce something to
make all America get up and howl,
then my name is not Bowserp'
"You-you won't break anything"
she faltered as she rose up to go.
"How break anything"
"a suspender-a blood vessel-any
bones?"
He was looking around for a crowbar
to strike her dead when she passed
quietly up stairs, and the cat came out
Of retirement and put it down in her
notebook that the performance was not
yet half over. For ten minutes after
being left alone Mr.. Bowser walked up
and down to recover from his pertur-
batlon, and when he had somewhat re-
covered himself he sat down to his
subject again. 1t was hard to pick up
the thread again, but he finally got
another verse and smiled blandly as
he read it over:
''The moon 1t was bright
And the campfres alight
As John Smith he was led out to die;
His grief none tell
As he took a farewell
And wiped a sad tear from his eye"
But after n minute the smile faded.
Mr.. Bowser remembered that Captain
Smith didn't weep when he was led
out Miss Pocahontas would never
have stood up and defied her father for
the sake of saving BOBBY.
1T won't do-it won't do" he said
as he laid the page aside and began