The Fulton County news. [volume] (McConnellsburg, Pa.) 1899-current, 1902-09-11


Mr. Hough bought two copies of the
paper that day. putting one OF them
in the inside pocket of his coat When
alone that evening he cut out the
verses with the scissors from his wife's
work-basket, and slipped them into an
old wallet which contained many other
clippings Of verse signed Anon"
Once the Bugle Call directed attea.
tion editorially 20 these anonymous
contributions. It asked, 'Who is our
poet?' But the answer was not forth
coming. There was considerable in
terest in the question, and the unknown
author was sometimes referred to as
the sweet singer Anon" Several OF
the Dorhampton women Of known lit
erary bent were suspected of having
written the poems, but they disavowed
the authorship of them. The coutri-
buttons to the Bugle Call increased in
number.
Herbert Hough brought n college
friend with him when he returned
home for the mid-year vacation. Mr.
Hough rarely took his eyes off Her
bert. lie noted the careless way his
son threw q leg over the arm OF
chair; the Independent manner in
which he thrust his hands into his
pockets when standing before the fire.
He listened to debates between Her.
| bert and his friend concerning the
value Of certain studies, and his firm
lips parted and his tight jaw dropped.
MlpnnXnp Hpvhnp+
Economy" or Renaissance" his father
would curve the toe of his boot up-
ward and his face would expHess pro-
found attention. Herbert and his
friend talked a great deal about lit
erature in an esoteric way, praising
| and damning the life-work of authors
whose very name the elder Hough had
never heard mentioned. Upon Herbert
| remarking that certain classic writer
made him tired" his father said, II
should think they'd know better than
to teach you about him"
One evening, shortly after the young
men had arrived, Mr.. Hough, on re-
turning from the chair-factory, tossed |
copy of the Bugle Call on the sitting |
room table. 1t was folded with the |
editorial page outward After supper, |
when they We're seated about the table |
he regarded the newspaper both ex-
pectantly and uneaslly. He also
watched his son. Herbert was moving |
around the room restlessly. hands IN
pockets. At length he approached the |
table and picked up the paper mechan-
ically.
"Now, Steve" he said to his friend
"if you are good III read you some
moving journalism. This Dorhampton
paper is really better than comic
weekly He glanced over The edl- !
torial page until his attention was sud |
denly arrested. He read for a moment |
and then burst into a shout Of laugh.
ter.
oh, dear" he gasped This Is bet
ter than l expected. Now listen to It. |
This is printed not us a Joke, but
seriously" He began to read:
Little bird, little bird. are you cold.
Up there on the telegraph wire?
While ! am wrapped in an overcoat
And have a warm fire."
The reading was interrupted by an
explosion Of laughter from Herberfs
friend.
10 you wonder why l wear hat.
While you have naught on your head? |
Are you thinking that when the night
comes
You are homeless, but have a bed?
"Or is It perhaps for a mate
That you twltter so softly and sweet?
Cheer mp. little bird, the Springs
coming
When brides with lovers viii meet"
This said Herbert, in a choking
voice, "is called What Say, Little
Bird? and it is signed Anon Well /
should hope So" He threw the paper
to his friend, and lay helpless from
laughter in a chair
"Oh. say, dad" he cried, when he
could regain his voice. ''you ought to
get out an Injunction against that
sort of thing. That's criminal"
Mr.. Hough was sitting in the shadow
beyond the circle OF lamp-light, one big
hand smoothing his leg.
Don't you think--don't you think II
Is good;" he asked.
"Oh, dad" Herbert was at
loss for words. "Well, It's natural
that you shouldn't see it the way we
do, because you have never bothered
your head about poetry and that sort
OF thing. But this stuff is so rotten
that It's good. That's about the size
of t."
Herbert took the paper from the
table and cut out the poem with his
penknife. II am going to make great
hit with this when we go backp be
said.
An hour or so later the young men
lett the house. Mr.. Hough sat long In
the shadow, his hands ON his knees.
Are you coming upstairs, John?v
called his wife from above.
"Affor n hff uofI,ar, ~. |