The Glenwood post., 1910-09-03


red:
On hazel bows the clusters hang EN-
Drowned.
And with the hunting horn the fields
resound.
old September Poem.
Well we should say so, and the mel
morn, bidding us garner for the bins
and cribs in which we labor for his
royal nibs. The summer ended and the
blower on, the respite over and the
nj r. gone, and Rockefeller as we drill
along, bowling and hoping we are well
and strong.
The seaside sojourner will quit the
shore, and the summer girl will line
up three or four conquests in puppy
love she has around, and choose the one
that is to go undrowned. The whi;h
selection from the litter born of sum
mer madness she will then suborn with
things sufficient to unlock it's eyes, and
hurry homeward with the gasping prize.
The busted tourist will return from
France with hotel stickers stuck upon
his pants, and tarred and postalcardei
by his friends will reap the penalty of
what he sends. They'll waltz him up
md down upon rail, and alternately
turn him head and tail, or howsoever
they may best enjoy the views in Ven
ice or the site of Troy
The festive calf will blithely sniff
and snort, and deftly tip up where the
hair is short, and in the quiet even
afterglow the quail will pipe his dulcet
piccolo. The bold insurgent will insurgc
the more, and fill the planet with his
dreadful roar, and each one betting he
will gallop past.
The new progressive and the Demo
erat. the uninsurging that are standing
pat, and in the midst of them, unfaint
of heart, our Mr.. Bryan on the water
cart. A maze of issues, and a mass of
men, and 10, gallus busting now and
til and not especially alarmed by it
thNfrusts dessting till the swarm has
lit.
The man from Elba trying to come
back,
And the poor consumer in his Guide
Unknowing if the quaking earth por-
tends
Death or the near approach, perhaps of
friends.
But howsoever and be it as may, the
Tread mosquito will have had its day,
and joining Satan in its spectral
growth. have made it real hell there
for them both. The while the earthly
remnant of it swings upon the window
screen, and drying clings to that post
which, though wanting mortal fire, it
still holds with its face against the
wire.
The sad first day of school will come
to pass,
And the barefoot boy will hide out in
the grass,
And by the time we've caught these
malcontents,
The Crippen chase will look like thirty
cents.
Milady Fashion in her hobble skirt
will stride the pavement with the men
alert to set her right side up again in
she should in time turn turtle
snd lace. 1t does beat thunder what
the women wear, and how they stick
on other peoples hair. construct their
middles and constrain their toes and
what Importance they attach to clothes
But bless us, are they after all to blame.
or had they been in these things quite
the same if Mother Eve s first thought
as we suppose, had not been necessari
ly of clothes? Was it to be expected
/ IN her case that with man somewhere
upon the place she ever thought of any
thing atall but gowns, slipovers, or per
haps a shawl?
/ But anyhow, the crawfsh will have
holed,
And the pumpkin shown the faintest
trace of gold.
The sassafras will don a redder dress,
And the gods will crowd around the
cider press. ~
Or prohibition or whatever will, here
is fountain that shall serve us still
place of resting and steal away
out of the desert and the heat of day.
place of quiet and the shade of
palms, of irrigation and the soothing
balms that no reformer till the poles
embrace shall ever capture for bath
ing place.
The hosts Of labor will parade the