Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1918-06-09


winners boarding house dinner table
several of the regular boarders snfck-
cred, but inside of week quite
Few of the young men were calling
him Chubby" and it was evident
that Miss Darty, the tender-eyed little
stenographer. thought he was the
greatest man in the world. But he
was a poet and admitted it, and, of
course, the boarding house had to
discount any real worth he possessed
for that reason; it never does to let
an unknown poet get the idea you
think he is much of anything.
The name Chubb. suggesting Club
by" was the worst possible misfit.
Tennyson Chubb. if Strengthened out,
would have been at least six feet four
inches tall, and he was as thin as
rail. He bent forward like con-
Fsumptive in the last stages-hollow-
chested is the term for it. and his
lungs were bad. not because he was
tuberculous, for he was not. but be-
cause he had stunted the growth of
his lungs by smoking millions OF
cigarettes. He had a set of boy size
lungs. anu tney were not ehouSh "
supply oxygen to his long. lanky
body. He had a brown, pointed
beard. big. gentle blue eyes. and long
black lashes any woman might nave
envied. He was a Canadian.
For years Tennyson Chubb had been
a clerk in one and another OF the
branches of the Canadian Bank of
Commerce, bored to extinction by
work for which he had no taste, and
trying to relieve his ennui by tapping
up whisky. He wanted to be poet,
and he was poet-a real one-and
he had brought his poems to New
York to have them published in book
form. A little money he had saved,
and the fact that his bad lungs kept
him out of the Colonials (then being
recruited in Canada to aid the allies)
permitted him to come to New York.
But he could find no publisher for his
poems-or rather. he could find no
publisher willing to publish a book
of poems by an unknown unless
Tennyson Chubb was willing to pay
5000 to guarantee the cost of the
edition. Tennyson Chubb was about
"all in" financially and in spirits.
There were evenings when he came,
to dinner suspiciously oyerelated. He
was drinking too much. Little Miss
Darty, sitting across the table from
him and violently in love with the
lanky fellow. gazed at him with sor-
IOW III HcT lcHQeT eyes.
JabeZ Bunker sat at the same table
in Mrs. Winners boarding house. and
both he and dear old Grandma Bunker
were immensely interested in Tenny-
son Chubb. They had never known.
or even seen, real. live poet before.
and it is not too much to say that
aside from the money he was making
at it-Jabez Bunker considered the
acquaintance with Tennyson Chubb
one of the most satisfactory prod
ucts of his bunko business. When
the dear. chubby old man had left
Oroduna. Iowa, with the desire to
bunko the VIGOROUSLY easily bunkoed
New Workers. warming his innocent
simple mind. he had thought of the
by-products that might be produced
thought that Grandma Bunker might
come to know such great social lights
as Lady Barr-Toskins. Mrs. Mortimer
Todd-Chelmley and Mrs Hallock
Craggs, but by aiding the first in her
work of making. begging and sending
socks. shirts and bandages to the boys
in the European trenches, Mrs.
Bunker had met the second and third
ladies and many more.
Tennyson Chubb, his poetic eyes
cleaning too brilliantly, dropped into
his chair at the table. His color was
high. especially just under his eyes.
over his cheek bones.
We'll. how's the po'try business
comm alOnS! asked MIR. Bunker
pleasantly. Mr.. chubb eyed him in
what may be called an unsteady man.
ner. He waved his hand.
''Mis-miserably.' he CALCULATED
Mr.. Bunker, poetry-true poetry
is going to the dogs, sir. You know
what l mean-true poetry. Mr..
Bunker. mean poetry. the flower of
literature. 1 don't mean weeds. The
weeds are MISUNDERSTANDING like
the green bay tree"
II reckon maybe you're right about
It." said Mr. Bunker. II guess maybe
don't just understand what you
might mean by weeds, and amt never
studied up how green bay trees bloom
there amt none, so far as l recollect, in
Iowa--anyway the part CT Iowa I came
from"
Mr.. Chubb waved his hand again.
"Right-o," he said my error
You've distinguished critical sense,
Mr.. Bunker. ! used a false smile:
I'm ashamed. The green bay tree
doesn't bloom. Flourish like green
bay tree, l should have said. The
tree. Weeds? You ask what /. call
weeds? Maybe you don't cali them
weeds. i refer to the atroclous de-
grading. falsely called poetical stuff
termed yers libre, free verse"
you don't mean to say" exclaimed
Mr.. Bunker.
"You understand" said Mr.. Chubb.
pointing his fork at Mr.. Bunker, Il
don't condemn all vers libre. It's not
poetry: that's what ! say. / read 1t.
of course i read it, Good stuff, some
of ii. This man Frost he writes good
stuff. You understand what ! mean?