The Wolf Point herald. (Wolf Point, Mont.) 1913-1940, 1921-11-17

~ ''"N ~ tN>J 49,
SO much?"
That's where they go to watcl
what the news is" Florence explaine,
morosely. "'They think they're 81
grand, sittin' up there, pokin' around
They go other places, too; and the,
ask people. That's all they said
could be !" Here the lady's bitterness.
became strongly intensified. 1.-THE!
said, maybe l could be one o. the ones
they asked if | knew anything, some
times, if they happen to think of it!
just respectfully told 'em I'd decline tc
wipe my oldest shoes on 'em to save
their livesl"
Mrs. Atwater sighed. "Yon mustn't
use such expressions, Florence
81 don't see why not the daughter
objected. They're a lot more refined
than the expressions they used on
me ~
'Then I'm very glad you didn't play
with them"
But at this, Florence once more
gave way to filial despair. MAMA,
you just can't see through anything
I've said anyhow fifty times they amt
aren't playingl They're getting up a
real newspaper, and people buy it,
and everything. They have been all
over this part of own and got every
aunt and uncle they have, besides their
own fathers and mothers, and some
people In the neighborhood, and Kitty
Silver and two OF three other colored
people besides, that work for families
they know. They're going to charge
twenty-five cents a year, collect-in-ad-
vance because they want the money
first and even papa gave EN- a quar-
ter last night; he told me So"
How often do they publish their
paper, Florance?' Mrs. Atwater in
Quired somewhat absently, having re-
sumed her sewing.
Every week; and they're goin' TO
have the first one a week from to-
day."
What do they call itT'
''rhe North End Daily Oriole. It's
the silliest name / ever heard for a
newspaper; and l told EN- so. / told
'em what l thought of it, / guess!"
WAS that the reason?" Mrs. At
water asked.
WAS it what reason, mama?"
"Was 1t the reason they wouldn't
let you be a reporter with them?"
Pooh" Florence exclaimed airily.
81 didn't want anything 10 do with
their ole paper. But anyway 1 didn't
make fun o. their calm it the North
End Daily Oriole till after they said
l couldn't be in 1t. Then l did, you
betl I"
Florence. don't say"
MAMA, l got to say somep'ml Well,
l told EN- l wouldn't be in their ole
paper if they begged me on their bent
ed knees; and 1 said if they begged
me a thousand years / wouldn't be
in any paper with such q crazy name;
and l wouldn't tell 'em any news if
l knew the President of the United
States had the scarlet feverl | just
politely informed 'em they could say
what they liked if they was dying; l
declined so much as wipe the Oldest
shoes / got on 'em!"
But why wouldn't they let you be
on the paper?" her mother insisted.
Upon this Florence became analyti-
cal. Just SOS they could act so i'm
portant!" And she added, as a o.
sequence: "They ought to be arrest
ed"
Mrs. Atwater murmured absently,
forbore to press her inquiry and
Florence was silent, in a %brooding
mood. The journalists upon the fence
had disappeared from view, during the
conversation with her mother; and
presently she sighed and quietly left
the room. She went TO her own apart
little white desk, after a pc
Rod of earnest r~everie, she took up
a pen, wet the point In purple ink, and
any great effort or any crit-
cal delayiDgs, produced a poem.
Ii was. in a sense, an original poem;
offerings, 1t was SO strongly
~lnspirarional that the source of it's
might easily become mani
TEST TO a cold-hlooded reader. Never
to the poetess herself. as she
explained later in good faith, the words
Just seemed TO come 10 her-doubtless
with either genius or some form of
involved; for sources of in
.spiration are seldom recognized by in
spired writer's themselves. She had
not long ago been party to a musical
Sunday afternoon at her great-uncle
Atwater's house where Mr..
Clairdyce, that amiable and robust
baritone, sang some of his songs over
over again, as long as the re-
for them held out. F1orence's
poem may have begun TO coagulate
within her then.
THE ORGANEST
BY Florence Atwatsr
The orsanest was seated at his organ
in q church,
IN some beautiful woods of maple and
bIrsh,
&c was very weary while he played upon
tie Reys.