The southern sentinel. (Winnfield, La.) 1883-1910, 1903-04-03

he could write some hisself."
"Ha, Ia. I bet bit 'u'd be fine poetry
Bob 'u'd write. Shucks! He couldn't
make two lines rhyme. an there
wouldn't be no more sense In nothin'
he'd write than nothin'. Hain't no
more poetry in Bob Hanks than there
Is In pigs tail.'
Don't you go to maxim too shore O.
that. Jim Tom Spivey, or the fust thing
you know you'll bust your 'lasses jug.
You needn't to think you're the only
teller that kin write poetry an that
Mary Jane Bowles is the only gal that
kin have poetry writ about err
Jim Tom laughed lightly and care
lessly, and there was something Ike
derision in his voice and manner. For
two years he had been what might be
termed the poet laureate of Postum
Ridge-in fact, he was, In his own hon.
est estimation, the only real poet Pos
sum Ridge had ever had the proud hon.
or of producing OF course there were
Others who tried to write poetry, per-
sons who threw together meaningless.
sentimentless lines; but Jim knew that
they were not poets. They were only
base imitators who sprang up In his
wake, as they always spring up in the
wake OF real genius.
In tfloughtless and unguarded mo-
ment the editor of the Postum Ridge
Wriggler had on one occasion accepted
one of Jim Toms poems and, totally
unmIndful OF Jim Toms future happi-
ness and the welfare Of the public. had
published It From that day Jim Tom
had felt that he was man apart from
and far above the common human
clods about him and that there was q
higher and broader life into which 1t
was not only his privilege but his duty
to soar. He felt that blowing corn and
hoeing potatoes were not vacations MT
ting an intellect such as his. 50 he re-
Taxed his efforts I'm that direction and
devoted himself largely to the cultiva-
ton of rhymes.
Other people, seeing Jim Toms poem
In the Wriggler and encouraged by his
giittering success. threw down the plow
and the hoe and took up the pen. The
result was there We're more weeds and
rhymes and less corn and potatoes
raised on Postum Ridge that year than
ever within the memory OF the oldest
inhabltant
But to return to the lovers by the
creek side.
81 reckon, then" Jim Tom said pres
entity. Bob Hanks has been wrtun'
poetry bout your
Susan Ann tossed her head slightly.
~Mebby he has" she replied. AN
mebby he hain't Guess hit hain't no
body's business nohow."
.aIebby hit haint. yet I'd TEST lack to
see what sort O. poetry Bob 'u'd git up
Bet hit must be greet truck"
Guess hits jest bout as gre't as the
poetry what's writ by some folks what
thinks they's so misuhble smart
"Meanin' me, reckonT
Anybody the shoe fits kin wear hit
"Jest SO. I'd love TO see the poetry
Bob writ. though. Bet you dasnt show
hit to me-"
"Bet dsst II wanted to-
"Bet you plumb 'shamed o. hits
'Bet amt nuther."
.Let Ine see hit, them
Don't haf to-"
Don't b'iieye hit less see hit-
"Then see hit ef you jest plumb bouR
to- she said. taking scrap of paper
from her bosom and handing 1t to him.
He took the paper and studied over It
long time Finally he managed to
make out all that was written on It
Then he burst into q peal Of loud
laughter.
Her face famed with anger. and she
gave him look full OF scorn-
what you laughin' bout now, big
gity:. she demanded. Reckon you
think you pow'ful smart"
"Oh. SIGH stun. SIGH stuff.- he cried.
81 never see nothin' like hit. an don't
blame you fer bein' shamed to show
HIT
IL want 'shamed TO show hit. Hits
better poetry'n you hin write anyhow
',Oh. I.oriy. sich stuff Jest Austen
here:
Honey sweet,
Hog meats greasy
love you, -
An I'd like 70 eouee1e yU0
Lord. do you call that shore 'nough
poetryGv
Goose do. Guess you would, too. ct
you want too jealous
"Humphi You must be pow'ful easy
pleased Eff I couldn't write nothin'
better'n that fer the gal love, !
wouldn't write nothin' or tall. Hits
scan'lous stuff, Shore
.Oh. Go you think so Jim Toni Meb-
By eff hits 90 musuhble po you kin tell
me what's the matter q hit ycu 50
pow'ful smart"
Land. Looks lack you could see
that much. Does he say any single
word In there bout bow sweet you afr
an how puttyT'
'sNo-o." she admitted hesftatingiy;
don't bfieve he does"
Goose he don't An be don't say
nothfn' bout wnntin' to bite pieces out
o. you an eat you all up nuther. You
shOrely rnoughty eaxy pleasetf Of that