Judge — June 6, 1885 — page 12: what you’re looking at

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

A CRAZY ROMANCE, ‘They sat on the hotel piazza In secluded nook, She with her crazy patchwork, He with his favorite book. She was sweet as a Huylar bon-bon, And dainty He longed t “Ma belle, ni fair to see, turn and say to her, will you marry me She d her mable red. le and work at quilt,” suddenly ra sw his, He blushed a fash + Do take this ne For my era she said Mutely he took the needle and silk, Deeply a moment thou Then worked with a will on the azure pateh, And this is what he w Like peach-pink velvet As she sought Then seized a block and be And this is what #/ rew her cheek, rsome tinsel | gan to sew, ¢ made Profitless Scratching. An overweening timidity; an unwarranted fear of the final results;’ combined with a natural modesty, restrained me from heedlessly embarking upon the tumultuons sea of literature without due precautionary measures. I therefore made a cautious connoisance of a neighboring fishing town, and employed a sedate fish-monger to supply me regularly with small fish, crus! waterfowl, and oysters, in order that I might invigorate and strengthen a brain that was soon to be converted intoa mental treadmill. It was my earnest desire t orb as great a quantity of brain-nourishing phosphorus as I could conveniently carry under a No. 7 hat, I wanted to build up astore-house of learn- ing that was soon to be drawn upon to an alarming extent. My_ next door neighbors wondered pain- fully in secret at the immense pyramid of fish bones that had so suddenly accumulated in the rear of the house; and being incapable of transporting ind their burden any longer without congestion, they relieved their anxiety by uttering a stiff-backed protest through the friendly medium of a knot hole. e thought convinced me that it would be unjust toa confiding public to let out this pent-up torrent of “originality in wholesale quantities, It would ove ee tiel them. So with the moral intelligence and | sympathetic con kien . Lori of | genius, I sat up one night and let an affecting | poet Teak out, It was merely a simple out- ort of a skir- effort, but I was Qe ens ious that it. fairly Qe ea with merit) and fine points, A quart of kerosene, a quart of beer, two quires of paper, a pint of ink, two dozen pens and half a dozed segars were sacriticed, but the poem was completed by sun-rise and sent to one of the leading publishers. That effort rather exhau powers; or rather, the © by my anxiety to know t in a measur ability. Pe} answer I hovered ween a heaven of untici- | pation and a hell of doubt doubt didn’t last lor me toa cinder! The poem, entitled, “The Nymph of the returned without “thanks—re te To state that [ was thunderstruck vid be putting it mildly, [wa | charged with deoxygenated, nephtic air and inverted corns! My paralized brain fibres had received such an aggressive shock that [ was competled to wear a patent metalic band around my heal, and drink copiously of morphine and cathip tex for two consecutive days At the expiration of which time [had recovered my equilibrium of mind and usual tenacious standing in society, An isolated fragment of mental worth,” | I mournfully said, asI laid it carefully awa: Then I made a reckless raid upon my fish- merchant, upraiding him ina tempestuous manner for sending me stale and unproti able brain food For I was confident tha his fish were invalids and deleterious effect upon the original brain pulp, causing a rejection of the poem and the mortification of the flesh. All the « | OUT-RUN NER, ted my mental > result—unbinged enough to. consume ie | we tisfaction I could get out of the old herring-scller_ was that in his opinion I was a crazy sardineand ou ood rights, | to be chewing lunatic he : around like an imported Amazon. | The very man I had selected with care, a sedate, reliable person, too! Such is life—and so does human judgment err, and the amateur student of physiognomy fail. With stolid determin unjustly-tre: Vv OT SQUARE TREATMENT. tion TI unearthes that rejected and ed poem and sent it with my blessing to another, and I hoped a wiser publisher. Delusive hope! It was returned. I started it off to another. Returned! Of it went to another. Back itcame. I was getting provoked It wasn’t square treat- ment. But I bottled my wrath, and mailed ittoanother. Declined with thanks. Then Twas mad. ‘The hatefal idea of returni it with frothy thanks! ‘The m pntemp.- tible crew! to thoughtlessly and delibe: ately send it back without even an airy compli- ment! 'y all seemed to be ina state of pupilage—in’ the first. elements of childhood! I growled—and then I ripp thunder ont of that unfortunately con- structed, “Nymph of the Sea,"and lightened the load’of chagrin that had Leen slowly but surely accumulating in my system since the | true | citement produced | ling the | | But the hell of | like one | first saucy rejection of my puerile effort in the line of poetry. Upon reflection, I decided, unanimously, tthe pull-back I had encountered was a dose actually required. It _was a rebuff that would act upon my sensitive nerves as a mighty lever, and be the means of forcing elf with renewed vigor, and eventually ‘hoist me high as Mount Blane in the world of literature, It would act as a stimulating tonic to my jaded mind, It was wh sought for—and, un- looke flutety nncalled for—still needed. t out and buried my hose in “This is an e, lofty ideas ind mighty projects. ‘The philanthrop- hic philosopher cannot help but bewail the degradation that encompasses him,” I said aloud. “ Archimedes, on discovering the theory of the cirenmscribed cylinder, shouted * Eure hout with jager-scented br reha!” for I have vered something ef more value. I have discovered a way to reach the hearts of the people. 1 will write so that they will imbibe the germs of wisdom. I will writean article not for the exclusive literary few; but for the ignorant and unsophisticated million. I will mapufacturean article that will not only zell, but will be hailed asa catholicon for the’ diseased and benighted minds of the itterites, T changed my fisherm perative necessity. 1 an ancient looking n—that was an im- ntracted largely with a-sider to supply me abundantly with om rn fish, ‘Then 1 changed my clothes and style of writing. Poetry had ceased to have any charms for me —it was no longer my ambition to excel either Byron or Moore in. that particular line of literature. It was very fine amuse. ment for mercurial men like Campbell and Burns to pour ont sickly sentimentality by the foot or measure. I aspired to something heavier, I was forever done with poctry, it had become, (under the treatment) ex: tinct a troglodytes. It was turn out my intention to mething elabor- ately masgive—for the masses, Sol put myself in mental training, studied hard, practiced with dumb- bells, drunk porter, ate roast beef) and pondered) with corrugated brow for two the clock, and finally erected a article particularly adapted to the unread million and their wants, It was an indeseribably eloquent nd con- cise article of about fifty posed Ashes of Herculaneum and Po! and the Despoiled Mounds of ‘Tu weighty in-my individual opinion and ascram full of ponderosi as a sausage in of mysteriously compl and ingenuously mixed meat. I sent it by express to one of the m and Jaid up for repairs; for that as had, at the least calculation, taken’ twenty pounds of standard weight from my sacri- ficial person, despite the abundance’ of fish I consumed ‘daily. In fact, that heavily freighted MS., had left me ulmost a literary wreck at the very launch. ° What was the result? zine trofail had_ the to send it back C. O. D. it was ‘freplete with nothing but idiotic, ins comprehensible ideas, miserably defunct doctrines and terribly superannuated and fossil dogmas. SOMETHING HEAVIER, Why, those maga- unfecli with note 6 (To be Continued.) comicbooks.com