Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1908-03-15

published. Some of them are in prose.
Love, adventure and the merry little COM
edies OF rural life are the themes Of which
he treats. His own experiences furnish
him with an ineXhaustible fund of mate
rial. Although still young man he has
been thrice around the world and he
fought through the Boer war with Kitch-
ener's Horse. His booklets, passed from
hand to hand and place to place, may be
found in thousands of cottage homes. So
far as circulation goes among the hum
bier classes he has a better claim to be
regarded as the poet Of the people than
any other living author.
He has genuine gift Of improvisation.
One of his devices for attracting attention
is to offer to write some verses free for
edge that they are in love. All he re-
Quires is the name of the adored one and
something about his appearance-the color
of his eyes or hair.
THE Offer" he says. always starts a
lot of giggling and chatting. But soon
little slips of paper are handed up to me
with the desired information. One. for in
stance, may read like this. His name Is
Tom and his eyes are blue Then I write
something nice about Tom and bring in an
allusion to his eyes and hope that the
wedding bells will soon be ringing. or
course I read it to the crowd and it puts
them in a good humor and then they buy
my books" From which 1t may be in
ferred that the gypsy poet understands the
art Of jollying. Here is a specimen Of his
"deadhead" verses from among some
half dozen which he scrubbed off for q
girl in Devonshire.
love to think upon old days.
Old friends remembered still;
But sweeter far it is to me
To think OF you, dear Will.
With JOY my heart 'twould thrill;
But best OF all to have from you
kiss. my darling VIII.
Barclay is a genial soul and the rarest
Of all types-an original man. He is
philosopher with the courage Of his con-
victions. I should not be surprised if
some day he did not write something that
the critics will take note of and the we'll
dressed reading public buy eagerly.
X X
"If had not hit upon the idea of being
my own publisher and bookseller he told
me, II might now be eating my heart out
in some London garrett with lot of re-
jected manuscripts In my trunk. I would
rather peddle my own wares among the
public than peddle them among the pub
lishers."
do you enjoy the life?" asked.
Every hour Of It," he replied From
my point OF view my lot is infinitely pref
cradle TO that or nlne-tenthS of mankind
who spend their working hours grinding
away at some monotonous task work like
the average clerk or mechanic. am my
own master; there is no boss to order me
around. My wants are few and easily
satisfied. I am sure Of living. The
open air life I lead gives me splendid
health. I am always on the move. I am
constantly seeing new scenes and new
faces and I meet lots Of interesting peo-
pie. But the greatest joy"of all is that
get out of writing. with never q worry as
to whether or no what write will be ac-
cepted by some magazine or publisher.
There is no trade equal to that Of the au-
thor for the delight that is to be got out. of
it. I suppose that I would not even be
ranked among the minor poets. But get
as much pleasure out of my humble COM
positions as do the best of them. There is
as much joy expressed. doubt not. in the
blithe chirping of the sparrow as in the
rapturous song Of the skylark. AS for
does it amount to? We are
here today and gone tomorrow and why
should it make any difference while we
are here whether or no people make a |
fuss over us? This hankering after fame
is something that I can't understand |
Which is proof. I suppose. that shall |
never be famous. But Colin Clout' isn't |
going to enjoy the sunshine and the blue |
sky or his pipe of tobacco any the less on
that accouD