The Birmingham age-herald., 1913-10-15
From the New York Post.

YAMES WHITCOMB RILEY is not in
the case OF the traditional prophet.
- The Hoosier poet is emphatically
man honored in his own country Twen-
ty-fve hundred Indianapolis school chill
dren paid him the tribute of a parade on
the occasion of his birthday this week.
His publishers have announced complete
edition of his poems. The report that he
has made $1,O0o,0oo' ont of his verse was
denied. year or two ago. but there can
be no doubt that he is one Of the very
few men now alive who have made good
living out of poetry. Indiana let's no OPP
portunity go by of celebrating this cit
izen, and the entire middle west is Ia
miliar with his poems, a compliment paid
to no one else since Eugene Field. At
many hearthstone, the approach of
Christmas is welcomed more heartily be-
cause the holidays will bring with them
new rhymes, and new editions of old
rhymes by Riley. No Indiana school ex-
hibition day Is complete without the reci-
tation of one or more of his poems. and
certain of his lines and phrases are part
of the Hoosier vernacular.
Now, we are accustomed to learning of
some obscure novelist whose works, un-
known to the public library and even to
the popular lecturer on current tenden-
cies in fiction, sell by the million. We
know, too, of versifers with a national
reputation for doing a certain kind of
thing gracefully or effectively. Frank L.
Stanton's lyrics may not be great poetry,
yet they are widely read by intelligent
persons. But publishers do not busy
themselves getting out complete editions
of the works of such novelists or poets
They do not issue the same novels or col
lection of verse over and over in va
rious editions, so that you can buy
light volume to carry in your hand or a
whole set to put upon your shelves And
1t surely will not be contended that
Riley's verses are of the texture of those
of q Eugene Field, for example. not to
say a William Vaughan Moody. Then
what are the chords they strike that they
should be cherished in a multitude OF
households? One answer is to be found
in their tremendous popularity in their
native place. Your Hooser, when he is
waxed fat, when his bank account and
limousine give assurance of a comfort
and luxury to which his boyhood was
stranger, does not forget those old,
but happy, far off days.
Paps got his patent right, and rich as all
creation:
But where the peace and comfort that
we all had before?
Let's go a-visitin' back to Griggsby's sta
ton 81
Back where we ust to be so happy and
so pore!
Not, be it understood, that we would
go back there If he could. But Riley
sings of that longing for the simple life
which we all deceive ourselves OCCASION
ally into thinking that we feel.
In producing this effect, his employ
ment of dialect Is an important factor
It may offend the cultivated ear but it
is music to those who would have scorned
anything better when they were alter
mating going to school with "playing
hockey"
Up and down old Brandywine,
In the days ats past and gone
With a dad-burn hook-and-line
And q sapln' pole--I swawn!
I've had more fun, to the square
Inch, than ever anywhere!
Heaven to come can't discount mine
Up and down old Brandywine
He does not hesitate to put the old times
above the present:
l. ben a-kindo 'musin," as the feler says,
and. I'm.
Bout o. the conclusion that they hain't
no better time,
When you come to cipher on it, than the
times we ust to know
When we swore our first dog gone it,
sorto solum like and low.
In addition. he touches the genter vices
with kind of glory
Tell you what like the best
Long about knee deep in June,
Bout the time strawberries melts
On the vine-some afternoon
Like to jes' git out and rest.
And not work at nothin' else.
March amt never nothin' new.-
April's altogether too
Brash fer mel and May-I jes'
Dominate It's promises
Little hints Of sunshine and
Green around the timber land
A few blossoms, and few
Chip birds, and a sprout er two
Drap asleep and 1t turns in
Fore daylight and SHOWS ag'in!-
But when June comes-Clear my th'oat
With wild honey!-Rench my hair
In the dew! and hold my coat!
Whoop out loud! and tho my hiatt
June wants me, and I'm to spare!
Spread them shadders anywhere.
I'll git down and waller there.
And obleeged to you at thatl