Ellsworth American., 1922-05-31
PEOPLE WILL TALK.


Sumed
You're wolf in Sleeps clothing, or
else you're a fool;
But don't get excited; keep perfectly
cool
For people will talk, you know.
If threadbare your coat or old fash
ioned your hat,
that,
And hint very strong that you can't
pay your way;
But don't get excited, whatever they
For people will talk, you know
/ you dress in the fashion, don't think
to escape,
For they'll criticise then in a different
shape;
You're ahead of your means. or your
tailors unpaid!
But mind your own business; there's
naught to be said
For people will talk, you know.
II a fellow but chance to converse with
girl.
How the gossips will talk, and their
scandal unfurl;
They'll canvass your wants or talk of
your means,
And declare you're engaged to chit in
For people will talk, you know.
They talk fine before you, but then at
your back
OF venom and slander there's never a
lack;
How kind and polite in all that they
say
But bitter as gall when you're out Of
For people will talk, you know
The best way to do is to do as you
please,
For your mind, if you have one. will
then be at ease
OF course you will meet with all sorts
of abuse,
But don't think to stop them; it's not
For people will talk, you know.
Dear Aunt Madge:
! found a poem in the Boston Post
that my brother and l used to sing
when | was young, and l thought it
might do some good to some one who
likes to talk. ! am fond of talking,
but not about my neighbors.
"Hauuah."
Dear Aunt Madge and Column:
When | last wrote you. it was
November and winter at hand; now 1t
is May. and summer close by HOW
fast the weeks fly when we are busy!
| have been on the point of writing to
the Mutuals many times, but you see
my good intentions were not carried
out. | always turn to the column
when the American comes to see what
letters may be there, and wonder why
there are not more. forgetting that l
am also Il delinquent This is very
busy time with me, and that is my
reason for writing because l know
others are probably as busy and not
finding time to write leaving our long
suffering aunt to supply deficiencies as
best she can. whether she has time for
it or not.
was interested in S. j. Y.'s mention
of her scrap book. l thought | was the
only one now living fashioned
enough to have scrap book. My
mania for saving poems, bits of inter
esting history or useful Information
began when Ford and | We're much
younger and going to school We both
loved poetry, so saved, at first, almost
anything>in that line. but later grew
more discriminating, We both started
scrap books, and scanned every paper
and magazine for material to fill them
and who shall say that it was not a
means of teaching us more or less of
| literature. of selecting the best from
| the reading of that day? | have al
ways been thankful to our parents
| that they looked carefully to the quail
| ity of our reading, and l am sure they
| would have condemned much of the
| fiction of to-day as unfit for anyone to
| read. | remember finding little
| poem that thought very beautiful Il
| was in the Portland Transcript. and
| written by Jennie e. Bodge. 1t begar
| with these lines;
| "A green leaf tipped with crimson,
| A brown leaf edged with gold,
| a scarlet hecken with amber,
| Were caught in the clinging fold
| OF the restless, autumn storm wind,
And hurled in wayward glee
! Down through the winding valley
| Toward the solemn sea-"
Ford also wanted it for her book
and told me if ! would let her have il
| she would give me one of hers. Great
was my disgust when, after pasting il
| firmly in, she gave me a childish jingle
| beginning:
There was a little fish with a wig
| gle, waggle tail"
l don't know the fate of my frs
| scrap book, but the remnant of Ford's
is stll in existence, time-stained an6
battered an echo of youthful romance
and dreams Like S. ]. Y.'s, my present
book is fat with unpasted scraps. Once