New-York tribune., 1920-06-12

Nuzzles and Kicks From Pegasus


None ever broke me to the rein
or his desire-or wove a saddle -cinch
That deep-drawn breath of mine
Has failed to burst.
! Across the fenceless field
Inside the circling milky road
My untamed hoofs still hammer-free! |!
Yet have worn the bridle-
| When | wished.
I've leaped, loud-snorting,
Pelting, thunderous hoofed,
From star to star
A youth, divinely mad, astride.
I've ambled, withered limbs
Along my sides, to drink
At wells of goodly memory
While age looked down,
Wistful at CLEANS of sunken gold.
Some made me jingling harness,
Held out sweets to tempt me in,
To trot sedate.
| stood, deceiving tame
Once on, the tinkler's seat
Took bucking, bruising leaps
Until he sprawled--
A sight for horses laughter.
A hard -hoofed kick
For botching carpenters OF honest
Yet when some cowboy vaults up,
Wild and rash,
Grips hard hands In my name,
And kicks my ribs,
| frolic happy down the wind
And his rough song of cattle,
Desert death, and bold-eyed girls
| Streams shining out behind
And when woman knows
From JOY in man
That she is led at last
The path her mother walked
| nuzzle in her hand and neck,
And kneel, inviting, camel-li like
She knows not she can ride divinely
now.
| wish she would-and sing
Of those to come, and ride me-
mastery.
Edgar Lee Masters
1t was liar said
| That dead men tell no tales"-
For here's a man that killed his folks
To make them talk the truth
They hid in life.
He strung q necklace
For the throat Of life,
From tombstones-
And they turned to pearls
He rode me bareback, too,
And bridleless.
| like to have my head.
He gave it to me,
And I swan him cross the Styx, and
back
With tips that Dante gave him,
! Over there.
Twas then let him pluck my wings
For quills-
Because he used his blood for ink.
JOHN GAY.
Prof. Haywood Broun's astonish-
ment at the wiltlessness of the Henry
Cabot Lodge collar may be justiiable
but we doubt it. Prof. Broun has an
abnormal viewpoint on such matters
His own collar Wits on any day
warmer than zero, Fahrenheit.
Nor are Mr.. Irwin Cobb's animad-
versions on the weather to be taken
seriously. Mr.. Cobb's boiling point
also is low, and he looks tepid at
eight below zero.
The Sex of the Rhetorical Question.
Sir: It's all very we'll your pling
up sympathy for the Listening Sex,
but l want to put it to you as man
to man which sex is it. that constant
ly, continuously, and emphatically pro-
pounds questions that expect no an
swers, such as:
where are all the people one sees
IN the subways and elevated always
going? Did you ever see so many
people? l think it's just wonderful!' j
How do you suppose that woman
ever got married? Now, answer me
truly: did you ever see such face
and such figure? And yet they say
that men like pretty women!"
Don't you just love the advertise
ments in the magazines? Honestly
now, don't you think the art in the
ads is just as high class as in the
stories? And they're so beautifully
| printed, tool" P. +.
1t was not to be expected that the
average memory, which retains only
what it is interested in, should hold
| IiO WoIu uS VI LHo DaCCIo hymn OF
the Republic" But We did think that
at least one Of six baseball worshipcrs
would know Babe Ruth's first name
and save US the trouble of
looking it up in the morgue.
America lost the golf championship
yesterday. but no nominator was as
tutely newsy enough to condemn the
present Administration for the loss.
Well, if Messrs. Johnston, Tilden, Will
liams, and Garland, now practicing in
England, don't win every match, the
Democratic party will have to reckon
with US next November
Whether General Wood would make a
good President we don't know, but
anybody who saw the 10th Division in
France, which had the General for it's
c. 0. in this counry, will have to
admit that it was the salutingest, best
dressed outfit in the A. E, f.
Il won marvelously at FIRST" said
Mrs. Gleason, speaking of her poker
adventures; beginners often do" The
only trouble with that statement is