Waterbury evening Democrat., 1908-11-12

AND DE BUTCHER AND YOUR LANDLORD" lookln' all ober fur work. but can't find it.'
 Yes, Brudder Jones. times am hard and work skeerce, but jest what have you been doin' fur de last thirty days! Has you been hustlin' fur a job or has you been sittin' In de house most of de time writin' poetry?"s
 TT has written some poetry, sah." ''So understand. In fact, Is got one of your poems right yere in my hand Does poetry pay house rent, Brudder Jones7'
 "N-no, sah."
 Docs 1t buy taters and bacon?"
 No, sah." Buy shoes fur de old woman and dN chillen?"
 No, sah." Den will you kindly tell me what you been foolln' away de last thirty days fur:"
 T reckoned might sell de poetry, snh."
 "Oh, see. You writ, and you reck- oned you might sell de follerln' poem. De gem'len of de club will listen while I read:
 "Oh. de summer days am passin',
 And dc fall will soon be here,
 And de glorious watermillyon
 Will no longer bring us cheer.
 De robins dey will leave us soon,
 De bluebirds fly to hence.
 De roses dey will lose deIr bloom,
 And de hollyhocks so whence.
 Tt makes me sad and lonesome
 Fur to sec de days so long.
 Oh would twas allus as today
 Wld biithe and happy song!
 But summer goes and autumn comes
 De frost will bring its pallor.
 De trees will lose their vivid green,
 De green grass turn to yaller.
 ''Of human beings some will pass
 To heaven from earth so dreary,
 And others will remain to live,
 And spring will find 'em weary.
 "Brudder Jones'" asked the presi- dent when he had finished reading the verses "am dis de poem dat 1t took you thirty days to bring fo'th?"
 "Yes, sah It took most of my time."
 Jest sot right dar and run out your tongue and rolled up your eyes and thought and thought?"
 "I reckon so"
 "You am werry much consarned about de robins and de bluebirds, Brudder Jones'"
 Silence on Brother Jones' part. And you seem to keer heap mo about dyin' roses and hollyhocks dan you do about your back rent"
 More silence.
 Told to Look For Work. ''Brudder Jones, de world has had poetry eber since dar was man or woman to make mad rhyme wid sad, and f. will keep on wantin' 1t to de end. but it hain't fur you and me to write it. It's fur Rockefeller and Nor gan and de rich men dat have de time to sot down and work deir brains and sweat deir cellars. I don't want to be arbitrary wid you. fur you seem to have de poetic instinct. but must say dat if you Cont hustle around and strike job and pay up your debts dis Limekiln club will know you no mo. We may like poetry. but dar's our wives and chlilen--dey like taters and bacon better Dig deep hole in sandy slle and bury your poem in 1t and to- morrow start cat and look fur job" Brother Jones retired in something of a dilapidated condition. and then the president looked around and said: q see dat Brudder Poker Thompson am sittin' ober dar behind de stove and roastin' hisself. Will be please come 
 What has I done?" asked Brother Thompson as he posed himself before the platform.
 'BruddeT Thompson. you owe de gro. Ger and de butcher and your landlord" But how am gwine to pay in desc hard times:'
 How has you spent your last two weeksY'
 ITS been gittin' up lecture. sah." Oats what heard. Dat lecture am ea Telisup- 1 hseE..