The Detroit times., 1916-07-10
The Comma Hound.
Nv Or. FRANK CRANE
Copyright. 1916. by Frank Crane)

punctilious person, | suppose,
though haven't looked it up in the die
tionary, is one who pays too much atten-
ton to punctuation points.
The smallest and unsignificantest of
points is the comma. have met in my
time certain punctophobiacs who might
be called comma hounds. They scent
minutiae and rigidify at attention there
at like pointer dog.
They have for little things as many
eyes as a fly. They are blessed, or
cursed, with microscopic vision They
cannot see beauty's cheek for looking at
the pores of the skin, and are too busy
counting the hairs of the eye-winkers to
catch the wink. You might call them
comma bacilli, for they are well nigh as
dreadful as the little enemies to whom
that term scientifically pertains.
One came up to Henry Ward Beecher
after the great preacher had finished
a sermon and stood by the pulpit yet in
the fusing after-heat of high discourse,
and said to him:
MIR. Beecher, l enjoyed your sermon
very much, but noticed one grammat-
ical error you made"
'One?" said the preacher. "Ill bet my
hat there were twenty"
Have you ever noticed that peculiar ir-
ritation you feel when you stop and talk
to man, and, while you are telling him
one of your latest and best ones, he picks
piece Of lint off your coat? He belongs
to the speck hunters, whose name is
Legion.
You take one Of these comma hounds
to the theater. When the play is over
you are somewhere in the seventh
heaven, rapt and cloud-swathed by the
perfect illusion of the stage; but your
comma hound has found her quarry. Did
you notice the way the leading lady
twisted her MOUTH" she asks. More
than likely its she.
"A book has thrilled you, and in an ex-
pansive moment you have lent it to a
friend always dangerous thing to do),
who returns it 10 you with the sole re-
mark that he wishes writer's would say
would rather" instead of had rather"
| confess to panic whenever | get in
the presence of these thoroughbred COM
ma hounds. When their eye strikes me
feel an uneasy itching all over Some
thing is the matter with me. What is it?
Is tuft of hair sticking up on the back
of my head? Is there fleck of dandruff
on my coat collar? Has my necktie
mounted? Is button off?
AS for public men, office holders,
actors, authors, and all who have
achieved bit of magnifcence, them the
comma hounds hunt in packs. There is
much to be said for instance, in favor
of being president of the United States,
but the position has its drawbacks. When
we think of every little shopping comma
pup watching what we eat and drink,
and wherewithal we are clothed, to say
nothing OF whom, when, and why we
blew our presidential nose yestreen, it
makes us be reconciled to our lowly pri-
vate life in flat A, third floor, rear. At
least. we can sit in our sock feet at close
of day and smoke our pipe by the open
window and see no telescope trained up
on us, and hear no cameras click.
Also by being poor we escape the bay
ing pack that are forever at the heels Of
the wealthy. / venture to say that the
man with his millions often Joins with
others of them who have moved from
obscurity into the spotlight and repeats
feelingly Riley's line:
"Theys nothin' more patheticker
rt..