The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1913-08-26
0. HOPE JONES.
When We Had More Poetry the World
Was Better.

Citizens of Plum Valley: The reports
from the door show that the receipts of
the house this evening are only 30 cents,
but be not afraid. 1 shall talk to you just
the same way I should if the receipts
had been $50.
4 .ecturer who feels that he has mis-
sion does not look at the money end of
thirst and make his bed under a crab
apple tree he is upheld by the thought
that he is making the world brighter and
better for others.
I wish to state that I am the only lee
turer in the world that is at the present
date encouraging the production of more
poets and more poetry 1t is, as | verify
believe, the falling eff of the number and
quality that has put the moral status of
the world where it is today.
In the olden days murder was seldom
heard of. graft was unknown and the
thief and the liar hid their heads. senti-
meut was abroad in the land The poet
wrote of babbIing brooks and singing
birds and shady dells, and the heart of the
world responded YOU'D have to travel all
day to find man who'd cheat you in
horse trade
If .e poet hadn't been lambasted by the
funny men, and had to give up his ideal
and go to work in a sawmilI to earn his
bread and meat, there would not have
been single trust in this country to OPP
press the people, and there would not have
been one crime where there are 80 now.
The word graft would never have
Divorce would be almost unknown
Female eXtraVagance would nave stop
ped short at 35-Cent stockings.
There would have been no howl about
the high cost of living
There would have been no ha1T-pulllng
over female suffrage.
NV friends the poetic instinct was born
lawful way. The old chap had been slosh-
ing around for weeks and weeks all alone
in the world and boss of everything, but
he wasn't exactly happy: He found him
self signing and yearnlng and Ioq qs
DaI- by day the feeling grew stronger,
and he couldn't shake it off by climbing
seem ridiculous to that baldhead sitting on
the back bench. but that, my friends. was
the budding and the beginning Of the
, loetic instinct in the human breast Adam
1ad scarcely got sight of Eve and given
her hand a squeeze or two When ne sat
down and jingled in her honor;
who are you, Miss, and what's your
And pray what are you doing?
IF you are looking for masF
Come hither and be Woohe-
with eyes of blue and flaXen hair
With smile like Eden. roses ono
You take my eye, YOU charming one,
Down to your very toeseS-
The poetic instinct is the same now as
It was in the beginning. There has oeeh
no change. The feeling seems to begin
way down in our toes and works up unC!
# lifts the hats off our head someone's
there is a loss of appetite connected WITH
times it makes one sleep and cream o.
CherubS flying about: sometimes II Keeps
and
There is not another human sentiment
50 strong. Ambition will send a man out
10 a ward caucus on a dark night, PUT
poetry will oblige him to walk three miles
i'm a snowstorm to see the outside of the
house in which his girl resides You may
hate a man and keep it up for three or
four weeks but it finally pals on you and
You let go Not so with poetry 1t hangs
right to YOU like a dog to a root. and you
either marry the female she throws
YOU down with q dull thud and breaks
T0Ur heart 1t has been truly said that if
fI,e ff111p nf
from the human heart we would degeh7z
crate into either wolves or donkeys, ana
no one can doubt it. In all times and ali
ages poetry has been the spur to 1ncfte a
man to greater efforts, I cite you the
chump at 20. with hardly ambition enough
TO attend circus on a deadhead ticket
bubble and he sat down and dashed off a
Seem of p verses, of which the following
is sample:
Twas William Bones and Sarah Jones /
Who Sunday went a,walking;
They wandered here. they wandered there, |
OF love there was a-talk1ng.
Twas William Bones and Sarah Jones
Who reached the raging river,
And as they gazed upon its flood
They shivered cold shiver-
Twas William Bones and Sarah Jones,
While gazing on the water.
Got nearer to the river s bank
Than anybody orter
They took a sudden header
The bank caved ina splash, scream;
Twas into this he led her
But William Bones caught Sarah Jones
In arms that never faltered,
And brought her safely to the shore,
And thus was Cupid battered.
Then William Bones and Sarah Jones
Knew that they loved each other,
An, matrimony followed, and
The ones the same tother.
Now. William Bones and Sarah Jones. |
They could have done no better.
But for that plunge into the stream
They'd never got no wetter.
A year later Alexander was making. war |
and licking the other fellow out of his !
boots.
Did Cicero amount to a tinker's word |
until the poetic instinct had been aroused |
10 arouse ambition and other things? He |
did not. At the age of % he was only a |
Shyster politician, speaking at ward eau /
cuses and talking reform ON the street !
corners. Without love he might have /
been elected an alderman walking /
delegate, but he would have aspired no |
higher. One evening as he was on his |
WOW to a caucus in the Fourth ward where t
he was billed to make a speech. he met a /
young lady who had lost her way, and fell I
in love with her the spot.
Love inspired the poetic instinct, and |