Judge — June 2, 1906 — page 10: what you’re looking at

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

WILBUR D. NESBIT, POETICAL HUMORIST, HUMOROUS POET, AND AUTHOR. RY PERKIN WARBECK. Sixth of the series introducing to Junce readers the people who are entertaining them in his pages. AM able to prophesy that the great American novel" is about to be published. At the recent grand authorial spring round-up at were those of Atlantic City I saw upward of one hundred authors, and only two openly confessed that they were not writing said G.A.N. The rest did not say they had written it, but they blushed when the subject was men- tioned. Something like fifteen, I should say, were a bit more confidential ; and when an au- thor gets confidential I have learned that there is but one thing to expect—he is going to tell you that he is writing IT. This preamble may have led the reader to think that Lam about to say Nesbit told me he is going to write the great American novel. Not atall. He isn’t going to do anything of the kind. Why? Because he has done it already. The G. A. N, is written The publishers have it in hand, Men, common men, with grimy hands, are at this very minute “Sticking” type on it. August 1st will see the epiphany, the sunburst, the auroral flame, an- nouncing the august (1st) event, It was a good time to see Nesbit. An author is always happy just before his book comes out. It’s the one time when an author can be happy. There's nothing in the world to hinder. It is the time.when his book is jumping from edition to edition so fast that he has lost count. Glorious time for an author just before his book comes out! The title at the top of this page may seem redundant—but it is not. Nesbit is a poet, a humorist ; but poets and humorists never know the real glory of authorship until a book is on the stands—and WILBUR D. NESBIT. esbit has several to his credit already, not including the G. A. laurels. Still This may be a good place for our tabloid, I asked Mr. Nesbit to write all he dared about himself, with the following result: A NESBITORIAL CAREER. I should like very much to write you a funny biography—or auto- me ever since. it comes to autobiographies. The funniest autobiographies I ever read Bill Nye and James Whitcomb Riley, and Riley wrote Nye’s while Nye wrote Riley's, Still, when one is asked for his pho- tograph and a sketch of his doings there is a strong temptation to show that he can bubble with wit and ooze humor at every pore. People expect it, They seem to think that, even if he can’t be screamingly funny in his work, he ought to be in whatever data he gives of himself. Iwas born in Xenia, Ohio. Subtract Xenia from this year of our Lord and you will have my age, for 1am now nearing that time when we quit having birthdays and begin combing hair over a hiatus, This picture Iam sending was taken at a time when I had more hair than at present. Yeta front view to-day would disclose just as much of the waving locks. The lot that once flourished away back on the roof of my head has gone, I fear, to that bourne whence no hair returneth, alas! But that is trying to be funny. I learned to set type, standing on a store- box to reach the cases. The editor of the Cedar- ville, Ohio, Herald, in which office I sidled up to the Muse and told her she was mine, was a man of much wit. He was noted for his joyous meth- od of handling the happenings of the place. In time I got so that I could set the news without his writing any copy. Were it not for the baleful influence his attainments had over me I might have been a preacher. One day I bade farewell to the classic little town and went forth to find the place where Fame weaves her searching. Was a reporter and did other heavy lifting in the Indiana gas-belt and in Indianapolis; then went to Baltimore, where I did verse and jokes for the American. There I did my first contributing to outside periodicals—sold four jokes out of a possible fifteen to JuD biography—of myself, but it is too hard to do. Not that} haven't had = 7ribune staff. plenty of fun while I have been on this earth—I have had my share, and maybe a little more. It + comes natural for a man who is classified as a hu- morist through some of his work to turn on’ the comic vein when he has the opportunity to tell the long, sad story of his career, I have often wondered about this. Sometimes the autobiographies are fun- ny—downright funny. Now, Strick Gillilan has written ten or twelve histories of his own life—each one of them different, and each one of them richly humorous. He is leading a duodecimal life when AN ODYSSEY OF T’ve traveled up and down this land, And crossed it in a dozen ways, But I can never understand ‘These towns with names chock-full of For instance, word once came to me ‘That I should pack my grips and go I thought at first to Kankakee, And then remembered Kokomo. «Oh, Kokomo or Kankakee,” I mused ; now, which one can it be?” So to the ticket man I went— He was a snappy man, and bald— Behind an iron railing pent, And I confessed that I was stalled. « Sume much-K'd town is booked for me, Tsaid. + 1'm due to-morrow, $0 I wonder if it’s Kankakee Or if it'can be Kol « There's quite a difference,” growled he, «'Twixt Kokomo and Kankakee." He spun a yard of tickets out— ‘This folded kind that makes a strip And “eaves the passenger in doubt When the conductor takes a clip. He flung the tickets out, I say, Then asked, “Well, which one will it be? T'll sell you tickets either way— To Kokomo or Kankakee.” And still [ really didn't know— I thought it might be Kokomo, MANN AND SUPER-MANN. Qu ER requests come to those who act, but here is one of the funniest that ever came to m “Mr, Louis Mann—I am told that you are the super- man, and I want to begin my stage career as a super. 1 hope that you have not en- gaged all of your supers for your play." Locs mans sz. JUDGE said he wanted more—and has been good to So have others. Came to Chicago in 1902 to join the Do a poem a day and a page of jokes and verse of varying degree for the Sunday Tridune, “An Odys- sey of K's,” first published in the 7riéune, was one of the first things of mine to find favor, and I have done a great many verses on similar lines. It is very kind of you to print anything about me, and JupcE has my cordial good wishes. wnsve o. wesarr. The + Odyssey of K's is printed at the bottom of this page. It bears out our title. Mr. Nesbit is a humorous poet and a poetical humorist. He is also a writer of clever short stories—and there is the G. A. N., due August ist. Mt any rate, I took a chance. He whacked that stamping thing a blow, And I, a toy of circumstance, Was ticketed for Kokomo. Upon the train I wondered still If all was right as right should be. Some mystic warning seemed to fill My mind with thoughts of Kankakee. ‘The car-wheels clicked it out: “Now he Had better be for Kankakee! Until at last it grew so loud, At some big town I clambered out And elbowed madly through the crowd, Determined on the other route. The ticket-agent saw my haste. “* Where do you wish to go?” cried he, 1 yelled, «I've got no time to waste. Please fix me up for Kankakee!” And then the wheels clicked, Don't you know ‘You ought to go to Kokomo?” Well, anyhow, I did not heed ‘The message that they clicked to me; I went, and landed wrong, indeed— Went all the way to Rankakee. Then, in a rush, I doubled back— ‘Went wrong again, I'd have you know! ‘There was no call for me, alack! Within the town of Kokomo. And then I learned, confound the luck! Tshould have gone to Xcoluk/ “wu The some €1 kee fare ad gr ca the being | turned the res sed Tight fai novel in thatits ¢ ing the dais : be Jup Now, necessar is passé the intin date. ae int employ a complish four ar and till by sight ; df them growing several aad [ an tell n0W of comic pro Irishn etal, play bafoonery JepcE « Properties goat ont exaggerate Nell as. th lo! these