The farmer and mechanic. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 18??-19??, 1913-06-10

the Daughters OF the American Revo-
luton or the Sons Of the Colonial
lanes There IS Just a plain. one
country boy standing with
an ear OF good seed corn in his hand.
nut to me this boyish figure looms
large against the horizon. and is elo-
queT with the prophecy OF a better
day. For / deyoutly believe tina in
him there is found another child Of
the bulrushes. destined TO deliver his
people out Of their bondage for bread.
So here in this metropolis Of the
nation. amid the beauty and splendor
OF this banquet scene, and To this dis
t!nsuished company. | give the toast.
Here's to the Corn Club BOYS.
May their tribe increase"
SO you see hat we are beginning |
somewhat to live at home and board
ar the same place. Whether the call
De Tor lettuce or literature. for a cab
baSe or a King. Ne can supply the
demand from our own garden.
North Cardinals Writers.
II We want to he accurately in
formed about the great achievements
IN any field of human endeavor We
turn to our Worlds Work n find il
there set down in attractive fashion.
Ii We want to read the best short
'''' 80 III IL L Ooi " III
lies within easy reach. and accord
ing to the mood of the hour we turn
10 "A Fog in S%antOne.' "A Municipal
Report The Trimmed Lamp" "A
Harlem Tragedy" a Handbook Of
Hyfnen' n Cupid a la Carte" And
sometimes when We sit at night and
watch the changing pictures in the
back logs mellow glow and the heart
nun3ers tor the music that lies be-
tween the black keys and the white.
We reach out for our own sweet
Scotch bard. and are lost in the glory
OF his song. 1t may be subject to
the discount Of a personal equation.
Dut my judgment remains that John
Charles Mcneil was the most gifted
poet America has known since Edgar
Allan Poe. His Bride" is as dainty
ana SWeet as a spray Of lilies of the
VALLEY. In his October with a wizard
hand he paints into the deep colors
Of the soul. And if he had never
written another line his Gagged
M~ockingbird" would have won fer
him q place among the true sky
) bora, His versatility is marvellous: his
genius Comprehendine: the finished
art Of Poe and the hOmely philosophy
. and fun Of Joel Chandler Harris. His
description Of the fight at the August
, meeting is a masterpiece Of its kind
/ NOW, Ander is a niger.
r WITS too quick upon the trigger,
: His yes is white as snow, his gums i
blue,
When Heck ram up as'in i'm,
De scrappin' blood riz in m.
En- he rech and fOtch his razor fun
his shoe.
Some ubbIn friz to Ander
En- dey hilt Heck over hyander
Whist the Chilium and de gals wa
runnin' out,
Den Heck haul back en- hit i'm,
Dat bluegum Niger bit i'm,
y I'm de whole church full er gemme
# up en- tout.
. sDar wuz razors, knives en-
- wrenches.
u Planks fun often busted
Is benches.
Ea sum ubbm made a club er de-
Il brogans.
- Oh, dey put one ner to sleepin'
Wis ever sort er weepin'
- En- l seed one foo er fightin' wild h
hands"
~ And possibly on the next day
= wrote his fine poem about the pot
If woman whose life was a ~ceasele!
se round Of drudsery who never dallie
in with a kiss"
+ ITO whom were sun and moon ar
cloud.
The streamiet'S pebbly coil,
IN The transient, May-bOund, feather
IF crowd.
The storms frank fury, hun
al brOWed.
3d But witness Of her toll"
ny
knew McNeill we'll and loved hi
in l shall always think OF him as stan
Of ing on the brow OF some lonely hi
Hooking deep into the sunset. and Sc
ing far beyond its radiant glow as
translates for US the glory Of t
scene
nd
ELI Hills, wrapped in gray, standi
lfS along the west.
nd Clouds, dimly lighted, gatheri
pur slowly.
4ss The star of peace at watch abo
tai the crest
Oh. holy. holy, holy.