Judge — May 27, 1882 — page 5: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

L dent, and the old lady, Superintendent Wall- ing, general treasurer. How can I sell tickets in all of the rum-shops on my beatanddo my duty? Tellee me. If yer want'er complain go to head-quarters. [Seconp CITIZEN exits demoralized. Bar- KEEPER buys five tickets coercivley. POLICE- | MAN 103 exits to next gin-shop satisfied. | Meanwhile a fire, two robberies, woman knocked down and robbed, case of suicide, and several free fights occur while he is off of the beat selling tickets for an affair of a really private police nature. Yet he acts under orders from head-quarters with the endorsement of our Police Commissioners.) {curtaty. } A Mildly Comic Poet. BY “BRI TOP.” He sent in word by the office boy that he would like to see the editor on business of im- portance, and was of course shown in, Glancing up, I saw a long-haired young man approaching slowly, with hat in hand. “The editor?” he ventured to ask. “Yes, sir; take a seat. What can I do for you?” I asked, glancing at him. “II am a--a comic poet,” said he, in a hesitating sort of a way, at the same time casing himself into the waiting chair. “Ah, indecd! Iam glad to know it, for if there is one thing in our profession that is needed it is a comic pet. At the present time, in fact, we have no one in this country who fills the William.” “Well, I—I am what you might call a mildly comic poet.” Ah! not milk and water, I hope.” “No; what I mean is that there isa vein of humor running through my verses.” “Indeed—a thread of gold, so to speak.” “Well, yes, you might call it that,” and he blushed deeply. “What do you pay for try 2” ‘Well, it of course depends very much upon the size of the golden vein. Now fora madly comic poem we gladly pay a dollar a line, but for amildly hillarious one, we pay only one half of that amount, Suppose you read one of yours, and then I shall be able to fix a price.” “How would you like this one?” he asked, selecting one from several others. “Suit yourself. What do you call it?” “Tt is entitled ‘The Alligator,’ ” “ Ah! a charming subject fora comic poem.” “Well, this is a sort of an extravaganza.” ‘All the better, my dearsir. Extravagant things take the best. Go ahead.” He cleared his throat gently and began: “ The alligator sat on an oaken limb, Where he coughed and carroled all day, And wiggled his tail with native vim, And was so very frollicsome and gay.” ‘How does that strike you?” he stopped to ask. “Very fine; exceedingly comic and prob- able.” “Shall I proceed?” “Most undoubtedly.” “A monkey he climed up the same tree, And tickled the alligator under. the rite. And it was awfally fanny to sco” ‘That ring-tailed monkey tickling his nibs.” SS es ae FIRE AND WATER. Asxtocs Ot Gi the furniture and thing The order is to »—Hello! Don't you know the fire is next door, not in here? You are ruining all “p your wall cool, 80 it won't crack, and ain't I doing it? “You are right, my dear sir; it must in- deed have been a funny sight to sec that ring- tailed monkey tickling an alligator under the ribs, to say nothing of seeing the aforesaid alligator up in un oak tree. But go on, lam ansious to hear the remainder of this poem.” “Well, this much is only an introduction, so to speak; something mildly funny, just to chain the readcr’s attention. From that point I take about a dozen verses to describe the habits of the alligator and monkey, mok- ing it interesting to the student of natural history.” “No more golden threads in it?” “Well, not of humor, My idea is that you have got to attract your reader's attention before you can be sure of instructing him on any given subject, and I take this method. How do you like it?” 7 “Oh, wonderfully well. But unfortunately we are not publishing a strictly educational journal—only wish we were. Take that poem up to the Monthly Bluestocking and they will crown you with green bay leaves in the shape of currency. Explain your scheme to the editor before you read your poem, then aston- ish if not paralyze him as you have me. He will see at a glance that you are a mildly comic poet, and he also knows that a sober- sided world is at this moment yearning for a mildly comic adjective-heaver, and you will undoubtedly catch on for life; or at least dur- ing the life of his magazine.” “But—I—I should dearly love to have an occasional poem of mine in THE JupcE, for, as you see, I have inaugurated a new school of poetry.” ‘Without doubt you have. An original school, if it is anything. But as we run a wildly comic paper—one in which there must be a laugh in every line—even to the ads— and, as we are sure to lose at least ten or fifteen thousand in circulation whenever it happens not to be so, why, we haven’t the nerve to ac- commodate you, although be assured that our editorial heart yearns to take you in as a staff writer. But we recognize your new school of poetry. Walking Miller will have to step aside, and Longfellow just barely saved him- self by dying as he did. But we will write you up. You shall have the benefit of our criticism, and be spread all over our columns.” “T—thank you,” he said, hesitatingly. “Don’t mention it, my dear sir. We are the one to thank you. Ho, Jobnny, who did you say was waiting?” I called to the boy, to hint to the mildly comic poet that somebody else wished to occupy his chair. That innocent boy Johnny was equal to the occasion and worthy of his training. ‘Honorable Samuel J. Tilden is waiting to see you on important business.” “ Ah! you will have to excuse me now, for you see what I have on hand. But you shall be written up; you shall be brought into no- tice. Send us an occasional short sample of your style, and we will comment on it. Good- day,” and that mildly comic poet went from our sanctum in a dazed sort of way, as though- he was not entirely certain about something or other. ESTHETIC Britain to Apostle Wilde: ‘Os- car, green Oscar, come home to us now.” comicbooks.com \