davidaulloa/AmericanStories huggingface dataset:
New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1919-03-09
Why Poet Masters Lives in Chicago

Dear me, don't know" he replied
Il never thought of that" He looked
quite dazed Then, "But who is there to
think out there? I'm sure | don't know"
Then, reducing the indictment against
Chicago to about half, the Spoon River
anthologist declared that a poet is a
lonely chap wherever he is, and that
even Chicago, bad as he thinks it is, is
not altogether responsible for his own
solitary state out there.
II always tell young writer's to live
and read" he said. "To pack their
satchel full, as it were, and to put the
writing off until it's own appointed time.
For writing is a lonely game. 1t chains
you to your desk, pins you to your
images, your ideas, until there's no life
left outside the narrow circle of your
own volumes. Writer'S can't live in a
round, full way. They can't even read
all they want to; they must write, write,
write, and let dezen delightful things
day 20 untasted. often realize that |
am nothing but a medium, an agency,
as | sit and write the things that come
to my mind almost unbidden We are
all like that, yet take us away from the
desk for few days and how we chafc
for it,"
80, he advises, let the prisoners of
.ChilIon who are to be writer's make the
best Of their freedom while thew are
young.
See people, read everything, live a
hearty, active, chuck-ful life and be
ready for the voices when they come.
For if they come to find you unpre-
pared, IL they can't find their echo in
you, they will soon become faint and
fade away. But If you are vibrant
with experience, with knowledge and
sympathy, be cure they will find their
way 10 you at the right season.
The Harlem River anthology that
ms been rumorcd around New York as
hr. Mastcrs's latest book is the Hgmcnt
New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1919-03-09

priest who outrivals me in that Drama
from other peoples lives comes hurting
at my head, all unconscious, Of course,
but real and honest material. Twenty
five per cent of my stories are actual;
the rest are suggested by the actual"
Mr. Masters has been urging Whit
man centenary, and he was accused in
jest of doing it just so he could come
back TO New York soon.
II don't have to have an excuse to
come to New York; he replied. 81 come
automatically, whenever l need New
York. Meanwhile, | strike the flint with
Chicago, and manage to make my living
with the result Of the rub"
New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1919-03-09

of some proud New Workers. magma
ton, he says.
For, after all, New Workers are the
same sort of people as Spoon Riverites,
and there would be little new to say
about you | am through with anthoo-
gies for that reason. Every Spoon River
IS cross section of the world at large;
external differences, names of streets,
fashions in clothes and the height of
buildings make very little difference"
Provincial pride in New York's land
marks, habits and psychology is not to
be gratified then by the Spoon River
poet, all press notices to the contrary
Notwithstanding. His next book is to be
nationwide in it's interest; the scenes of
it are laid from Alaska to Nice and
Toxic, and from Frisco to New York.
The book will be in much the
same form as the anthology, concen-
trated essences of life histories hung on
central thread. The stories have come
to Mr.. Masters from boarding house
tables, over back fences, out of the
mouths Of old men and children.
II run the greatest confessional in the
world, you know" he said. "There's no
New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1919-03-09

began to lay plans for a pilgrimage to
the city in search of the angel child.
Presently Uncle Eben caught her at
tenton and she gazed upon the tooth
less blurrcd-cyed bent-bodied old man
with speculative interest. "Ill AK him
for de fraugs foot she brcathed and
when Uncle Eben finally shuffled out
she followed him. He stopped in the
yard to light his pipe, and she patiently
waited until he was putting contcntedlv
away before approaching him with her
request.
Iif you've got fruugs foot to spare
viii YOU give 1t TO me7' Hhe ventured,
running after him na he passed through
The gate, and catching timidly at his
tatterod old coat
"Gnwd A mightyl' calculated Uncle
Eben, turning around to survey the for
lorn looking little figure. what you
gwne ter do wiz a fraug's foot?'
II want it fer luck said Weesy gaz-
ing solemnly into his watery old eyes,
'ter hep me find sdmethin'."
Uncle Eben removed his pipe "T' amt
no fraug's foot you want, chile. Dey
dcs keeps away evil, an is monstrous
pow'ful in dat respec reckon it's
dc hind foot Of CT ole rabbit you Is
after
"uh huh nodded Weesy. aouiver
with interest.
on come long wiz me den, honey"
chuckled Uncle Ebeh, ian ! spec
ltIn s'ply you
SO Weeey trotted along beside the
old man, asking innumernbio duehtons
III regards to the luck Of II rabbits foot,
and her eyes grew wide and hopeful, for
she firmly believed 1t was a taisman to
guide her straight to the angel child.
When she returned little later the
treasure was securely hidden under her
gingham dress. During her absence the
ncighborhood children had gathered and
were peeping curiously through the
rickety palings. The small boy who had
Knocked her just last night when she re-
fused to play tag bent upon her. now a
one was vastly distinguished on such an
occasion as a family DEATH Movngs,
marriages, births and deaths were the
only things to disturb the tranquility of
Dooner Lane, with the exception of a
Saturday night brawl, when weekly
wages and saloon waxed intimate.
Weesy wished, as she approached the
shanty and spied the rusty Grape on the
door, that it was hung for a mommy of
one of those gaping children instead of
her own. Then she darted past them,
through the gate, past the riot of purple
flags so dear to mommy's flower loving
heart, and around to the kitchen shed.
Aunt Henry and a strange woman
stood at the doorway.
"Weesy," said Aunt Henry, there's
Mis- Simpson. She's gwne to take you
wiz her fer all night. Hits better. amt
it, Mis- Simpson, an you'll bring her
New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1919-03-09
By Sarah Addington

NDGAR LEE MASTERS has gone
r. home to Chicago with six
A pounds more Of him than he
brought to New York and wry
lace at having to return to what he calls
city Of exquisite torture
But Why do you live in Chicago. if
you're lonely there?" he was asked Just
the day before he went back to the
Windy City.
he answered with question and a
hopeless gesture of his hand.
Why did Dante Stag in Florence?" he
sad. Because it was his particular
nell Chicago is mine. 1t is therefore
my stimulant to work. | dislike it so
actively that it acts as an irritant. To
escape Chicago | seek refuge in my
Work. am hopelessly lonely there, CON
shuaDy irritated, but If ] came to New
.ofk should probably do nothing more
man beam my pleasure at being here"
ar masters went on to explain that
~ ID lonely in Chicago not because con-
seniai people are not there, but because
'he community is not organized a. a
wy thirty miles long and twelve miles
"'ae should be" He misses the literary
has. '""' 4'e~ o'A
20 TO one club there to eat lunch.
sa 70 another one TO swim. Tn Now
or ssS can drop in any number Of clubs.
aaa eongenial fellows talking about con
ss''ai subjects, stay little while and
~. .pms away with that fine glow Of fellow
mp mat every man, even writer peeda
- IN 20 Ingredient in his daily life.
s,u. ssw YORK ~ grown-pp, specialized.
s. saa,zed'' nc elaborated "cbicaoo
- nss's and falls over everything II IL
s"orphous mass with content hut M
i I'M a. Also, the town il too moralistic
s s's aolier-than-thou sense, for me-
saasv NJ = what does Chicago think Of
ar Masters Was asked.
New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1919-03-09

tentive little ears ever since she could
remember. But quite curiously every
story centred around a GOLDEN haired
child with eyes like the blue in the
heavens and skin like the petals of a
blush rose. Away back in some mysti-
cal long ago mommy had lived with
such lovely little creature. and Wecsy's
brief life had been patterned after that
child's marvellous goodness. 1t was quite
easy to be good when an angel child was
daily pictured to ones alert inagina-
ton. Mommy had adorned her in lacy
around her waist. combcd the golden
curle, and night after night hugged the
soft little body to sleep in her very own
nrmsl oh, the exquisite thought of 1t
all, and then one wonderful once NOM
my had actually kissed the little mouth,
because, as she carefully explained to
Weesy, she was going to leave the angel
child. Mommy had said that dear mouth
was like flower, but Weesy suspected
such flowers only bloomed in paradise,
red or as soft or as beautiful.
Hazily came mommy's oft repeated
Words "Dat blessed pet would love NAH
Weesy, deed she would" A thrill
tingled through her little body. Some
day she would go over the high hill,
across the allurihg green Of great
park, in search Of the angel child whom
she had never visiohed AZ being grown
up, and old uncle Eben Foster would
give her the hind log Of apring frog
for luck, Her head dropped. She wished
fhe could slip away to bed. but she must
sit on the doorstep until Aunt Kenny
called her inside. Never never had the
angel child disobcyed and she must al
ways be like her.
A long time afterward---it WAS the
shadow part Of the day eesy wakcned
like q startled bird, Then she sat alert,
listening her head cooked sidewise.
What was it, that little low cry, drifting
out through the stiffness? OF sudden
a CLEAN grew in her brown eyes. She
knew, now. 1t was a teeny bit of
babby, because mommy had said before
long one was coming to their house !
A smile wreathcd her clfish face, and
then she laughed quite low in her curious
way Aunt Henry had slipped out while
she was asleep and come back with the
baby! A baby! And again she laughed
ever so softly as she swayed to and
fro, hugging her knees in a little frenzy
of joy.
The shadows deepened and she felt
little bit afraid, because never before
had she stayed out so long alone, but,
Of course, she would obey Aunt Kenny,
even if black bear came skulking
around the corner and grabbed her in
his furry arms. Ugh! She shuddered
and crouched against the door frame
Firefies danced in the dusk Down in
the dark hollow at the end of the street
came the mournful "croak, croak" of
New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1919-03-09

the back seat, and the child was dressed
in white, with wide blue sash around
her waist. and her hair was as golden as
the sunshine. With an eager cry of JOY
she sprang to her feet. clutclcd the rah
bits foot from inside her dress and be-
fore the machine had made the bend in
the road. she had rushed through the
mass of shrubbery directly IN TIA path
way.
1t happened like flash. she was aetu.
ally under the wheels before tho ehauf.
feur realized that some strange little obs.
joct had darted from the roadside TO dc.
struction. The woman. with n shrek of
horror, was instantly out of the ear.
down on her knees beside the little body.
And across the field Of buttercups came
Mis- Simpson, wildly wrInglng her hands
and crying:
ooh, Gawd- -mercyi"
as she your child?' the woman fran
tically inquired.
No, ma'am. she amt" moaned Mis-
Simpson. But hit weren't my fault. no.
ma'am 1t weren't. / DIES tells her to pick
buttercups, an fore | knew it she was
gone. Oh. Lawd have mercyl"
The little golden haired girl rrouched
in the corner. pressed her frightened
face in her arms and broke into low
sobH.
ut is awful. awful" cried The woman.
directing the chauffeur 60 place nangled
little Weesy on the back seat. Get In"
she said Ia the terrified negreeH land
she can rest against you. Drive as
quickly eH you can, John. 10 the samsY
tan-~it Is the nearest hospital. Now"
she pursued in n tremuous voice, an they
sped down the road, tell mo who this
poor little creature is and where | can
find her parents. Oh, whatever pos
sessed her TO run in the drive? And,
oh, how can | ever forgive myself if
fla convulsive shudder passed
through the womans body where did
you say she lved?'
"Dooner Lane, way over yonder in
Hackettville,' whimpered Mis- Simpson.
but hit seems like she amt got no
people. Her mommy died in childbirth
las night, am her poppy's done TUX up
wiz another woman, an ole Aunt Henry
Peters promised to keep her TIL she was
big enough to hire OUT
Weesy's brown lids futtered AMI a
faint tremor went through her little
body. The white woman and the black
woman instantly sat alert Slowly
Weesy opened her soft dark eyes and
looked around vague in bewilderment un-
til her glance fell upon the child huddled
IN the corner Of the car Immediately a
happy understanding radiated her face,
and she made feeble effort to stretch
forth helpless little hands
"Mommy's liz angel chile" she muir
injured in low ecstasy. IA fraug's
foot-des keeps away-evil, but de hind
de hind foot of er ole-rapbit will hep
you find de-angel chile"
New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1919-03-09

back day artcr tomorrow in time fer de
funeral?"
as, it's BETTER agreed Mis-
Simpson, IAN I'll bring her back day
arter tomorrow, in time fer de funeral
Then she took Weesy's hand and they
went out. past the wde-eyed children
who still stood outside Tie palings.
In spite of the dull hurt flashing in
and out of her mind, Wccev was ex-
pcriencing a thrill of pleasure because
she could count on five brown fingers
the trips she had made into the city.
Perhhpa this very day she would find
the angel child She would tell her
that monimy was dead and the angel
chlld would take her to her own benut-
full home, and she, little Wceay. would
be allowed to brush the golden ours
tie the ribbon sashes and perform the
endless wonder tasks just as mommy had
done She laughed softly to herself,
felt the rabbits foot under her dress,
and felt warm and glad all over.
Hurry long, Weesy," Mis- Simpson
urged pose now we make a cut
through the park7 Reckon now you've
never been here before, have you,
honey7"
Weesy acknowledged that she had
not, and her eyes shone with delight ns
they entered the wondrous place Of
trees, shiubbe1y and flowers. She could
not summon words to express her &c
stasy. She tneed with rapture ut the
sight Of green, green. green, and her
heart for the moment WAS freed of It's
weight Of sorrow.
Dem tiny yaller iiowersl" ahe softly
exulted.
"Dom is buttercups," said Mis- Simp-
son, ian cf you hold 'em under white
follses' chins deyll tell de trufc ef dcy
loves butter or no"
Wcesy uttered the softest of signs
"Could-could pick one err two, may
be?" she asked.
"Sakcs alive, ya'as" returned Mis-
Simpson. "I'll rest a spell on one of dem
benches, honey, so you DIES hep yo'self'
to pickin' Of buttercups."
Weesy with a rush of happiness sank
down in the soft grass. 1t seemed in the
twinkllng of an eye she had been trans
ported to a veritable fairyland, for such
it was to the little creature accustomed
to the dirt, dust, heat and barrenness of
Dconer Lane. In the green boughs nyri-
ads of birds were singing as though
their happy Threats would burst, and
with a smile she cooked her head sidewse
to listen more attentivey. Oh what
beautiful bright, bird-singing, sweet
scented world it was. Suddenly, while
she was so busily gathering the butter
cups, a squirrel darted past her and sour
rled on to the woodland What had
startled it, she wondered. Surely she had
been too still to frighten it. Then she
saw coming down an incline a splendid
automobile. AS it came nearer she saw
that a woman and little child occupied
New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1919-03-09
Media Was Sure He Adored Her

haps some time II shall love an
other, but | do not know A woman's
love IS constant-and I'm not a child
any longer"
wanted to comfort her-but could
think of nothing to say | almost wept
at the thought of the sad future before
her. She would live long time. for she
was only seventeen now. remained
silent even after she had left, and Won
dered what | could do to help her.
She seemed more cheerful, however.
when she came to see me week later.
Il want to tell you something she
began, as we sat in the hammock. Il
have put the dar<-eyed man out of nv
life. 1t was only an infatuation. I have
found one who is absolutely different.
His character is far superior to the ac
tors, and he has wonderful golden hair"
WHO is he?" l inquired suddenly. ;;.-
terruptng her rawlings.
He works in the postolfce.'
"Qh! George Martin. Why, you
don't know him, do you?"
"ls that his name?" Media unused.
"George-it suits him-so manly. so
honest. No, never met him formally
in fact have never spoken to him. but
| am sure he loves me. Every time I
ask for the mail he looks at me so
searchingly, and once bis hand trembled
when he gave me letter."
"Oh-he can't know he can't"
cried. "He was married last week to a
perfectly charming girl, whom he has
always been crazy about
Perhaps he was crazy about her. but
/ know he loves me even if fate keeps us
apart
mo, he DOESN'T l said, .hotlv.
wanted to shake her.
you're not very sympathetic she
remarked as she left
The clash came when she confded to
me week later that she ought not come
to see me any more
"Why?" asked, hopefully.
New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1919-03-09

| done promised yo' mommy TO she died.
Died. repeated Weesy in a queer lit
tie choky voice; and instantly visions Of
what it meant flashed across her active
mind. There would be lot of crying
people coming in and out of the house. d
long black box and deep hole in the
graveyard that signined death to the
shrinking little figure under the clothes
line
She's daid, honey" mooncl Aunt
Kenny. STOPPING her vouminous body to
WeesY's level. 1--WE got doctor an he
say she WAS DIES row'ful worn out all
over, an she only lasted I'll bout day.
brenl. reckon YOU NIL had no kin en-
friends, or''
Woosy shook her klnky little head
slowly. "Only DIES me an mommy
an - She WAS going to say "the
angel child" but something checked the
words Aunt Henry, she swiftly calcu-
lated, would never understand.
We'll, you go long, honey, an tell
Mis- Gale eff | is equal to hit I'll do her
wash mex week"
Weesy, with widely dlatad eyes, went
slowly down the sun-necked road There
was dreadfully dull ache within her,
an ache she did not clearly understand.
She had frequently felt the ache Of
hunger, cold, "A cut, or fall but this
was an entirely new ache to deal with.
EI,.,a .....l.. In.
light, because she did not wnnt to be
unhappy, and suddenly apring Of hope
presented itHelf@ she would go out now
and search for the angel child, and be.
You'd Il doubt she would And hor A
joy-mnd robin WAS sending forth "A
rotous song from n tree top, She
glanced up and n smile stole over her
saddencd countonanco then, in spite Of
the weight Of the clothes basket, she
skipped the remainder OF the way. SO
merciful is the pain Of childish grief
that it easily fades from the mind
When she returned wagon stood in
front of the shanty. She knew the
grewsome business Of that wagon, and
iItIlc sllNtl WVHL tNEOuEn ner DOdN,
and the hcaviness came to her heart.
Inside there were lots Of people. Some
were weeping, some We're moaning un-
Ineligible phrases, some were talking
in subdued voices. But Weesy evnced
no surprise at their strange manifesta-
tons of mourning She had frequently
seen them in other death chambers in
The throes of such frenzied behavior.
Nor did she show any particular inter
est when paralytic Uncle Eben Foster
rose to lettering feet and began his
chant. Many the time had she heard his
weird mutterings over lifeless forms.
Folks wants him at funerals" NOM
my had once explained, case he's liza
bic to coniure der daid ef dey doan
have him dere'
SO Weesy found low stool in
corner of the room, and while the
strange Incarnation was going on she
New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1919-03-09

an army of frogs, and away off in the
distance sounded the low, lonely boot
OF an owl. Some ones gwine ter die"
Weesy breathed, shrinking closer to the
door. bat swooped down, so periously
near, that she hid her face in her arms
and screamed out loud.
Aunt Kenny opened the door.
"Wecsy,' she whispered "come in,
chile
Weesy rose. Tier little limbs achcd
fearfully, but she did not mind now,
since abe was going nsidc to see the
baby. The room seemed 80 strangely
still and there was no baby cry coming
from the bed, Had abe dreamed il, out
there In the creepy dark? Then mommy,
with Il pain drawn face, stretched out
her weak hands.
"Weesy," she whispered, II donn rccl.-
on need tell you to be good liz chile. /
know, honey, you'll dos naturally be good
an mind Aunt you-you's gwine
be her chile now
Mommy cried softly, grooming tender,
unintelligible things, kissing over and
over again the bewldered little face, and
all Weesy could remember when she
finally crawled in bed was a strange
hurt torturing her throat. Besides she
could not understand about the baby and
she vaguely wondered why it had gone
as quickly and mysterously az IL had
come. After while people began to
al fsH 1& al, a..
why they were dronng hymns she heard
AL church on Sundays Sometimes there
were long strange silences, then
ooh. sinnah man, sittIn' on the gates of
Hell,
Gate flew open an Hinnah man fell
No hidin' place down huh
Beneath her breath she would chime
in:
GLORY, glory, glory,
Glory to de lamb,
Hallelujah | am saved
Pm 10 glad am"
And finally she fell asleep dreaming OF
the angel child and of wee baby com
ing to her out of the dusk in the hollow
where the frogs croaked, and going sud
denly away OH the wings Of big black
bat. The next morning she awakened
very early, slipped into her clothes with
rapid haste, because she was instinctively
conscious of something different in the
still room. Outside in the dew bathed
garden Aunt Henry was taking the
clothes from the line and packing them
in a basket. Weesy crept to her side.
standing still as mouse
Reckon you can tote it down to Mis-
Gales, Weesy," Aunt Henry pulled SIT
amt heavy, an tell her it can't be ironed
this week. Tell herr
"Why CANT it be ironed?" Weesy de-
manded, gravely.
Aunt Henry brushed away a rush of
tears. "Never mind, honey, I'll be good
to you. You's gwine be NAH liz chile.
New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1919-03-09

Neuud signed lang uOTOuSly,
n Il and looked up at the moon.
But his eyes. No one
ever had such wonderful black eyes. No
matter what role he played, villain or
hero, or elderly gentleman, | could al
ways recognize his eyes And he-he
used to notice me, too. He used to look
into the audience for me usually .oc-
cupied the same box whenever | went"
| was thrilled. In all my sixteen
years / had never been so near "ro-
mance"-and Media, as she sat in our
little summer house, resemblcd a movie
star in her most lovesck moments. She
twisted her hands in anguish and went
on.
II never met him. My father OBJ
jected because he wasn't 'nice'-even for
an actor"
was almost afraid to speak in the
presence of such grief. isn't there any
hope?" | breathed
"No!' she said "He isn't worthy.
hope I'll never see him again. Per-