Waterbury Democrat., 1902-08-09
AS you LIKE IT
Some stray Leaves From a Reporters
Note Book.

Journal often notices the lacnfymOSe
regrets of feminine writer's on the lack
of provision for pockets in ladies'
clothing. They deplore the passing OF
this convenience and conjure up the
comfort of pockets in the halcyon days
of their grandmothers. So, as neces-
sity is the mother of invention, one Ire
quently hears of peculiar hiding places
which ladies resort to other than thelf
purses. Of course we all have heafu
of the more familiar schemes when
they have recourse to, but the As You
Like 1t man learned of one from an ac-
quaintance the other day which he
thinks is new and original. she was
going bathing at the shore and was
afraid to leave some greenbacks III the
dressing room and was IN quahaary
as 10 what to do with them. A bright
idea struck her. She took down her
hair and woye the bills into the braid.
.And they didn't get bit wet" she
concluded.
Tt is. told of a Cornell professor,
whose absent mindedness about equal
led his learning, that he was one day
crossing the campus. absorbed to such
q degree in a book of his that had just
been published that he. was lost to ey-
erything else Suddenly he bumped up
against an object and looking up he
saw that he had collided with COW
that had rudely strayed in his way.
t.Get out of the way, you cowi'' he ex-
claimed irritably. prefxing an lmpo-
lite adjective to sscow." The next day
as the professor was again crossing
the campus. Immersed in his reading,
he again ran into an object. "Oh, that
-cowi" he exclaimed. Then hear
ing an indignant eSirr' he looked up
Hastily to discover that this time he
had come up against the wife of q fell
low professor 1t hardly made matters
better to assure her that he had taken
her for a COW. and it required the
good offices of the entire faculty to re-
store an era of good feeling.
Sir Rowland Blenperhasset in the
Cornhill Magazine gives some very in
teresting "reminiscences of the late Car
dinal Newman Nothing could well
be simpler than the daily routine of
the great cardinals life. Even when
far advanced in years he was wont to
rise as early as a. m. He said his
daily mass at z, had breakfast at s
and had retired to his study by a. M.
There he remained, working unceasing-
" until or p. m. After light
lunch the cardinal generally went for
a walk, or called to see people with
whom he had business dealings. He
dined at &, was in his study again by
Z, and after a long days work retired
to rest about 10. It was the cardinals
desire that his friends should treat
him, even after his elevation to the
L. - Ill
days. He had horror of anything APP
preaching obsequiousness, and had
hoped to live and die simple priest.
Some years before he was created a
cardinal it was proposed in Rome that
some ecclesiastical distinction should
be conferred upon him. This offer was
made through his friend, Father AM
brose st John. who was then resident
in Rome, But Newman wired him at
once to the following effect: Above
all things. no decorations for me.
Herein we catch a glimpse of the re-
firing character of the man.
@&*
Under the caption of ssMemoirs of
q Forgotten Meath Writer Laurence
Newman concludes very interesting
series of articles on Patrick McDer-
mott, the poet of Kells, in the current
number of the Anglo-Celt, bright
paper published in Cayan. Ireland,
with many readers in Waterbury.
Mr. Newman quotes a. poem written
years ago by Jacob Dunno. a Cullen
agh schoolmaster and printed in MI
gents almanac to show the kind OF
man McDermott was and then says:
81 now bring my rather desultory ac-
count Of the life and labors of dear
Patrick McDermott to a close. Ali
1t is well that we turn over but one
leaf of a human history at q time,
Out in the quiet churchyard, under
the shadow of the town of Kells,
where the keen wind is hurrying past
the graves and moaning among the
great trees, whose wide arms are
weaving gentle adieux to him who low
ed them so wefl-stop! There is the
poets grave. He who was soldier in
the queen Of Spain's service, weaver,
teacher and letter carrier. AS I eyed
his grassy mound, thought l. little
more hurrying to and fro,s little more
agitation of the brain. and | wonder
where will be the end?" After reading
the article I cut it out and sent it to
one of my old friends, literary crank
who keeps in touch with such matters.
a day or two later Ireceiyed letter con-
aiming the clipping and note which
read as follows:
4 Friend : return you the clip
ping which you kindly mailed me for
use of wllich-thanks. A strange CO.
Incidence in connection with the poem
was that read it in Nugent's almanac
when it was first published, and it is
very hard to imagine it is SO long ago
as 1863, at the first glance, but by
thinking matters over little tits cas-
fly seen that almost a lifetime has
passed into chaos since it appeared
In tlpse times how eagerly some of us
boys would look forward to the time
when the almanac would appear, and
many happy evening sitting in the
warm glow Of the turf fire with the
light of a ha1fpenny candle illuminate
ing the room, did we sit trying to
solve some of the charades, refuses
and enigmas which appeared each year
in it's pages. Just two lines in the
poem in your clipping made me re.
member it and those same lines were
very much commented on by MS boys
MT the time. They are as follows:
Long, long ago his wreath of song
Adorned the Roscrea asylum"
We never could accept the words
rhyming with each other, and as ouI