Judge — March 8, 1913 — page 13: what you’re looking at

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

Fig) "0 esse. SAVING HIS LIFE. Would-be suigde—Don't shoot! 1 'll come out. A Reduction. By MAX MERRYMAN, E HAD all of the earmarks of the poet, and it was easy for the editor to size him up the moment he entered the door. A confession of his guilt came in his first words, for he said, “Excuse me for interrupting you, but I have here a little poem a number of my friends would like to see in your paper. It is more on their account than my own that I am venturing to offer it to you. I seldom offer my work to a newspaper, be- cause the magazines are usually so eager to’’—— “‘What’s the thing about?” asked the editor. It had beena regular ‘‘nothing doing’? day, and something beside reprint was needed to fill the gaping columns of the paper and supply the foreman’s continual yawp for ‘‘copy.’” “It is entitled ‘The Ship of Dreams,’’’ replied the poet, somewhat dazed by receiving other than a ‘‘Don’t want it!"” reply. ‘*What you want for it?” “Well, at the rate I usually receive for my poems, I think that—say, thirty dollars would be’’-—— “No, you don’t! No newspaper on the Lord’s foot- stool ever pays thirty dollars for a poem. I’ve turned down many a good poem offered me for five dollars.”” “I didn’t know what your usual rate was, never hav- ing offered my poems to a newspaper before. I suppose that I could let you have it for twenty, but’’—— “No, you couldn’t, for you won't have the chance! I could name mighty good poets who would jump at the chance to pick up twenty dollars for one of their poems —you bet I can!”” “Of course I am not moved by mercenary motives alone in offering you my poem. As I say, a number of my friends want me to see the poem in your paper, and 80, if you think ten dollars wouldn't be too much, I’’—— “Ido. This paper never paid ten dollars for a poem in the sixty years of its existence, and it is never likely “Of course it is worth something to have one’s work appear in a paper having your very large circulation among the best people; if you care to give me five’’-—— “I don’t. Ican buy bully good poems at a rate of three or four for five dollars. It’s only be- cause I stand in unusual need of fillers of some sort that I am considering your poem at all.’’ “Very kind of you, I am sure. Looking at it from that point of view and as a sort of a—a—well, an ‘entering wedge’ to your col- umns, I might say two dollars and a half, because’’—— “It wouldn’t do you any good if you did. The business manager would kick like a Texas steer if he heard of me paying two dollars and a half for a poem. That’s all we allow for a column of rattling good news.”’ “‘A dollar and a quarter seems mighty little for’’-—— “It’s more than this paper pays for poetry by the yard. Now, my friend, I'll tell you what I'll do. Here's a free pass to a moving-picture show and a meal ticket with one meal still to be punched out of it. If you want to take them in full re- muneration for your ‘Ship of Dreams,’ take them and we will call the deal closed.”” “‘Of course I hadn't expected to—still, it’s worth something to appear jn—on the whole, I suppose I may as well accept your offer.’” “Nuff said. There’s the pass and your meal ticket. Good- day. No, I couldn't agree to take any more at the same rate. Please close the door when you go out. Seems rather chilly in here.’” An Improved Article. Customs inspector—Now, madam, are you sure that you have nothing that has been improved while you were abroad? Tourist—No; only my health. I gained twelve pounds weight, I think, Customs inspector—Ah, I thought so! madam, to the board of appraisers! Not What She Fished For. Gwendolin (blushing naively)—George says I have a com- plexion like peaches and cream. Bernice (sweetly )—Cold cream? We shall refer that, Petruchio—How do you like my costume, dear? Katharina—Charming! In perfect taste—and you wear it well. comicbooks.com