The Superior times. [volume] (Superior, Wis.) 1870-1912, 1906-07-21

etry.
Poetry bel beg your pardon, but
do ycu know that | think you are very
foolish?' and Harry Furber shrugged
his shoulders, jabbed his hands into
his pockets, and thought the question
decided
Il wish could get you to appreciate
the artistic 1t is a great thing to
love art"
My goodness. | love you, and that
is enough for me. | can go to the
theater and pick a good play every
time see one. AT the exhibit, | can
admire the best pictures. like beau
tilul singing. | can read good story
or good book, but poetry-and you
now want me to write some"
"Yol are too intensely practical"
And you don't like intensely prac-
teal people,
They are very nice to have around.
Then | may. come around as usual.
you won't deny me that?'
"Oh, no; you are always welcome.
Then Furber took his leave. AS he
went down the steps of the Koessler
mansion, he met Robert Phelan, but
he did not look at him. Phelan was
a poet.
They had been at Harvard togeth-
er. Both had very indulgent fathers.
Phelan had written poetry for the
Monthly" and in his senior year had
been chosen to be it's literary editor.
After graduating he had still continued
20 write poetry, and once his contribu-
ton had been accepted by an eastern
magazine.
Fu1ber had been little of every
thing in college, and in the end had
turned out to be not much of anything.
He had made many friends, had a good
time, damaged to get diploma, and,
he asked: What more could anyone
want" Immediately after graduation,
Furber, the elder, had taken his son
into his office, intent on teaching him
the grain business. Furber was a
name much known on change in Chi
cago. Harry Furber was appointed TO
firm in the pit, and he had soon
learned to bid in on the wheat with the
best OF them.
But Ruth KOessler was his stumbling
block, and Phelan, the poet, was the
hard thing he bumped against every
time nc stumbled. Together, Furber
and Phelan had begun to call upon
Ruth. Ruth said she liked both of
them, but she had gradually devel-
Cped d sense for the artistic, and Fur
GER was not artistic, but Phelan was
q poet, and so he must be artistic. He
could talk all about ancient Greece and
Rome, and could quote much from the
classics.
Furber knew the original source of
these lectures, and although he liked
to hear Ruth talk, he would not stand
for anything that came from his rival
And now she wanted him to write po-
etry.
1t was the middle of the forenoon,
and things had Guieted DOWN in the
pit The market was holding steady,
and Furber was wondering what eff
feet the war in the east would have
on the years crop.
He walked up out of the pit and sat
down in a chair away from the rest
of the crowd. He was thinking of Ruth
again. He sat and thought of the
talk they had had the day before.
Then a smile something akin to the
kind he wore when he had done some
thing very well, stole across his face.
He pulled pad of paper from his
pocket, and for half an hour he seemed
TO he struggling with something in his
mind, once in awhile writing down
something, and the men in the pit
continued TO loaf and talk automobiles,
and prices in wheat still held steady.
Then, when the half hour was up,
he smiled again, reread what he had
written, and then looked about him.
Hello, there, Ripley" he called.
Il lave got scheme" Furber said.
-" went you to get up there in the
pit anG introduce me as the great and
only, you understand. Then will
get up and speak my piece.
"All right" and Ripley went over
10 a long, inclosed desk, where several
men were writing, and spoke a few
wards to them. Then he came back to
the pit and took a position where he
could be heard by all.
Gentlemen" he said, Il am about to
Intro6uca 10 Won our far-famed great
and only illustrious friend and CO.
worker, NFurber, the poet" and Rip
lev stopped to get his breath, and
everyone applauded.
He has composed poem in your
honor-your honor, say, the honor OF
all OF US" and he stopped again, and
there was some more cheering.