The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1932-09-16

lurking determination TO PrOve TO the
whole World that he was q Heller.
He was skinny and wore powerful
Glasses and had bullying Head, like
the large end of Gourd. He was
bashful in Company. Strangers often
asked If he had passed through any
Serious Illness when quite Young. II
an attractive Cutie gave him couple
of roguish Looks and began to ask
him pert Questions, he hammered for
little While and then sank below the
Horizon.
Who would have dared to predict
that Herbert ]. Prangle was planning
to write Love Stories so sizzling that
he would have to use Asbestos Paper?
To look at him he was just as pas
sionate as Rubber Glove.
Even as the bloody Historical Ro-
mances are written by slender Maid
ems just out of Smith College, and all
that Free Verse about Nymphs dane
ing in the shadowy Wildwood is turned
out by hard-faced old Grouches wear
ing Overshoes, and Advice to the Love-
Lorn comes from Police Reporter, so
it was inevitable that this Clam would
write about heaving Bosoms and Cling
ing Kisses.
For a long Time the Immediate
Friends and Relatives little suspected
his Intentions. He kept on producing
Manuscripts that were rejected with
Thanks. They put up with his De-
lusions and kept him hidden away in
a Cheerful Room where they would
not have to look at him very often.
Then there came a Day when the
Book Reviewers all began to gibber
and say that New Light had ap-
peared in the Heavens and Il was
Some Light. About 1900 Candle
Power.
They agreed that Herbert ]. Pran-
gle, author of Scared Souls" was in
decent, audacious and salacious but
Master Analyst of all the Fundamen-
tai Emotions and a Genius with q
large G.
All at once his apologize Kin be-
gan running up and down the Streets
asking everyone, "Have you read Her
bert's new BookY'
Soon after the Volume had been
barred from many Libraries and de-
nounced from the Pulpit, and Holly
wood was demanding the Picture
Rights, and the Tremolo Sisters were
camped on the Front Porch to inter-
view the daring and devilish Author,
1t is claimed that Herbert received, in
one Day, no less than 100 Requests
for Photographs and Autographs.
The Glare of the Limelight.
For matter Of Years he had waited
and hoped for this Day to come. All
through the toilsome Nights he had
been sustained by an intrepid Belief
that some Day the World would SIM
ply have to recognize him. He felt
within himself the Pulsations of True
Greatness and he knew that, eventual
ly, the Universe would vibrate in Sym
pathy.
Well, he began to get the Vibrations
and they nearly ruined him. He sud-
uChly uloCONClCu IhdI OhC may hoI az
quire one Portion of Fame without
taking on about three Portions of
cheap, low-down NOtoriety Herbert,
the shrinking Violet, suddenly found
himself in Glass with the Ford Joke,
the Radio, the Statue of Liberty and
Ziegfeld's Follies. All the Farm
Hands in Iowa were fully informed
regarding his Peculiarities and Eccen-
tricities and blighted Love Affairs.
He found that he could not stir out
Of Doors without being trailed by a
brazen Hussy in shameless Attire and
sticky Rouge, known as Publicity. He
learned, in Hurry. that the Laurel
Wreath had a lot of Thorns in 1t.
Strangers crawled up the Fire Escape
to get a Look at him in his own
Room. The Public Prints were full Of
yelled References to his Checkered Ca
reer and it was whispered about, un-
der Cover, that his tough Novel was
really Story of his Own Life.
Which was fairly hard on a harm
less Boob who was just as pure as
Rainwater.
If distant Relation, whom he new
er had seen, got into jar, anywhere,
it always came out in the Dispatches
that the accused Party was a Cousin
of the well-known Novelist. This is
known as Advertising.
Mr.. Prangle received countless in
vitations to address the Women and
the Rotarians and the Free Thinkers,
but he could not generate sufficient
Vocal Energy to make Himself heard
to Himself. In fact, he couldn't do
anything except sit in Back Room
and write on Paper. When the fierce
Glare smote him he was scorched to
a Cinder.
AT present his unmarried sister has
him up in the Woods, feeding him
Gluten Biscuits and Milk.
MORAL: II is almost impossible
for a Drum Major to pass along Main
Street without being noticed.