The Telegraph-courier. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1888-1946, 1917-07-12
Jim Woodn1ara, Waukega,a Editor
Writes Just Like Jim Riley
By Z. w. Croftl

Now that James Whitcomb Riley has
gone and he can no longer pluck the
heartstrings of the American people,
save By the written word, there seems
to be void made by the departure of
the Hooaier poet that is hard to fill.
Perhaps no American poet ever played
SO tenierly with the human affections
Of the common folk as did Whitcomb
Riley. He set in motion through his
verses vibrations that welded the hearts
Of the common people with a social de-
mocracy that put them in tune with
each other and with their creator. He
of the 'Swimmin' 'Ole" fame will
never be forgotten. Though he can
no longer pluck at the heart strings of
the people through the medium of new
melodies, yet surely someone will once
more delight us with the style of song
that he sung.
AS the mantle Of Elijah fell on
Elisha, so it seems that when a great
man passes over the line, someone
e'taps in or the wires' and gets con-
nection with the Divine power which
enables men to do things Riley was q
great poet and we are proud Of him,
but as we scan the horizon of the great
American continent there is surely
someone who is humble enough and
clever enough to wear the mantle of
this literary genius.
Down at Waukegan there lives a
newspaper man named James M Wood
man. No one that does not know of
his work would ever dream that he was
q poet He goes through the ordinary
hum-drum routine of editing a daily
newspaper, and being obliged to run
the business end, too, his practical,
hustling, thousand-and-one duties would
to the ordinary mind preclude him from
invoking the muses.. Nevertheless, in
spite Of many callers and his business
affairs, Mr. Woodman writes poem
daily for his newspaper, the Waukegan
Daily Gazette, and to his credit it might
be said, he is modest enough not to
sign his name.
AS public man he brushes against
men in police courts, council sessions
and board meetings of various kinds,
and nobody would even dream that he
was literary man. Until you read his
verses you would sum him up as an
ordinary man Of the street. It is only
when you become infatuated with the
silent melody of his verses that you rec
ognize in him sweet singer in Illinois
One day, we think he will sing loud
enough for this continent to hear, but
for the present he is not widely known.
He is the author Of a book of verses en-
titled "Down at the Pier" but, out
side of a bonus for his newsboys at
Christmas time, it has not been put on
the market.
In style, Mr.. Woodran has no frills.
His verses appeal to the people. He
uses the vernacular of the street to a
large extent, but there is music in his
rhythm that is enchanting, nevertheless.
His "The Old Village Store" is a good
sample of his style. The stanzas rum:
They wuz seated round tn wood fire,
In the old-time village store
You hev seen that aggregation which
Assembled years afore
Them new rural routes wuz started, an
The farmers liked t. 60
Don't t. git tn mail an papers--an'
Converse an hour r SO.
Old man Watkins touched tn "poor
box''
Fer a pipefrl NV tn weed,
An opincd twas gitt.n' round t.
where
He'd buy his garden seed;
And then the talk veereG round bit
an
Settled down once more
On Blaine en- Logan, who was runnin
back
In eighty-fcur.
Deacon Shippers stroked his galways as
he
Cleared his throat an spat
'Pon the stove, and slyly squinted out
From underneath his hat,
An allowed thet Grover Cleveland,
he'd
Splendid show to win;
Then he wiped tn stray t'baccer, on
his
Coat sleeve, from his chin.
And the poem continues in this style.
This, to our mind, is a sweet little
Ivric.