Judge — January 19, 1889 — page 10: what you’re looking at

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

BEAUTIFUL S———W. ITH THE FIRST snow-fall in the country what a stupendous change comes: over the landscape. Objects which before the storm’ were landmarks now lose all their identity and appear as nothing but undulations in the great white comforter. The wind moans sadly through the fantastically decorated branches; the clouds cower dark and gray on the horizon, and the river winds away—a sinuous race-track for the few dead oak leaves that have escaped the clutches of the snow-king. The farm-stock, from little Eben’s pet guinea-pig to old Ramapo the bull, is content to be comfortably housed ; and as for little Eben himself, he has sawed up his mother’s ironing-board for a top to his double-ripper sled, and is now explaining matters in the wood-shed to the accompaniment of what is left of the board conjuncting with the south side of the torrid zone of his person, The wood-shed in the sketch is buried, and Eben, with all the strength of his young heart, is envying the wood-shed for the time being. AH ME! [ MIGHT have been a poetess, a real live poetess, and have grown affluent and proud, and log-rolled with other literary characters and gotten into the ring. The last page of the Century might have blossomed with my soulful little effusions, whilst my gems of thought twinkled here and there as tail-pieces to sections of Mr. Howells’s just too delightful studies. I might have written all about “The Building of Chimneys,” and “Faces at Windows,” and “Tall White Roses,” and all sorts of sweet poetic subjects. But alas! I never have. Would you know why? I will tell you. ° It was years ago. I was only a laughing, happy, foolish child, but the divine flame was within my bosom. I sat me down ‘neath a graceful arbor with my little portfolio on my lap and wrote. I called it “An Idyl.” All poets write idyls, and this might just as well have been one as anything else. After a while I paused. I wanted only two lines more that ended with a nice little word to rhyme with “told”; but somehow they would not come. I had eaten several inches of the end of my pencil when I saw my brother approaching through the shrubbery. I remembered how he used to help me with my sums at school. A flood of sisterly confidence swept over me. | called him, placed my little “ Idyl” in his hands and asked him to suggest something for those last two lines. He glanced his eye down the page of scented note-paper and I thought he seemed touched, ‘Then he took the pencil and wrote, handed the poem back to me and passed on even before | could thank him; and with my heart swelling proudly I read : NIDYL, “In one of earth's freshest bowers, Where golden the sunlight shone, A maiden, fair as the morning, Dwelt with her dreams alone. ™ Pure as the cloudiess ether On some mellow summer's day ; And young was she as the tender, Rosy and soft-eyed May. As she sat "mid the scent of violets Weaving dim fancies rare, A youth beheld her beauty And whispered his passion there. * She listened in thrilling wonder To the tale so wildly told; Thea she told him to go to thunder, ‘And remarked that ‘the day was cold.’ Thus was my budding genius crushed to the cold, hard earth, IT have never written poetry since. PROTECTION THAT PROTECTED. RLAINE HOFFMANN. POSTPONEMENT INEVITABLE. Miss Gushly (pausing on the ladder, while the moon modestly hides its face behind a cloud)—"Stop, Jack! We must postpone the elopement until to-morrow. 1 have forgotten to write to my mother.” Jack Rorrowit—" No matter, darling—hurry! You can send the letter by mail.” Miss Gushly—" How absurd you are! It must be left on the dressing-case or the romance of the whole thing is spoiled. I shan’t move a step ! ‘Mrs. Ritey—** Did anny wan see annythin’ o' me ironin’-boord ?” ETHICS FOR THE HOLIDAYS. Millicent—* When you are older, Amelia, you will know better than to break an engagement just before Christmas. Amelia—"\ didn’t know there was any rule of eti- quette against breaking an engagement just before Christ- mas—or any other time.”” Millicent — ow many presents did you get—from the boys, | mean?” Mr. Ritev—"* Phwhist, Eileen! Oi hev t’ go achrosht th’ lots an’ th’ Cz hov Millicent (grimly) —" 1 thought so.” billy-goat.”” oe SRS SET IS aes comicbooks.com