Life — October 27, 1892 — page 13: what you’re looking at

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

REMORSE. “OI SAY, PARTRICK, AN’ DO VEZ IVER DRAME?" “ANDADE AN" Ot DO THOT SAME, ONLY TPOTHER NOIGHT Ot DRAMED Ol wuz wiTH TH’ PopE—aN’ TH’ POPE HE ASKED ME WUD Of DRINK. THINKS Ot To MESILF, WUD A DUCK sHWIM? AN’ SEEIN’ TH’ WHUSKY AN TH’ LEMONS AN' TH’ SUGAR ON TH’ SIDEBOORD, Of TOULD HIM Or DIDN'T CARE IF Ot TOOK A DRAP IV PUNCH. ‘HOT OR COLD?’ ASKED ‘THE Pope. ‘HoT, YER HOLINESS;’ AN' BE THOT HE STEPPED DOWN INTO TH’ KITCHEN FER TH’ BILIN’ WATHER, BUT BEFORE HE GOT BACK O1 WOKE STRAIGHT UP, AN’ IVER SINCE IT’S BIN A DIS- THRISSIN' ME THOT Ot DIDN'T TAK’ IT COWLD.” *LIFE- THE INVENTOR OF A SYSTEM. TOs RONDO'S little book of poems had proved a success. All the critics praised it lavishly, except one whose paper got no advertising from Tom's publisher. Even the Literary Era said : ‘The high standard of composition is well sustained, the sentiment is delightful, and the technique faultless. The volume contains an unexpected treat for which Mr, Rondo’s fugitive pieces had not prepared us.” Another anthority remarked: ‘There is not a poor poem in the book ; every page bears some bright, original thought, or some harmonious burst of melody, to redeem it from mediocri The daily press also published scattered items about it, less elaborately worded: “Scents from Lotos Land, by Thomas Rondo, is now in its 18th edition.” “Mr, Rondo received, yesterday, from Messrs, Stereotype & Binder, a check for $1,750, representing the royalty on the sales of his book for t+ past quarter.” “Mr, Rondo has been invited to read extracts from ‘Scents from Lotos Land before the Wednesday Morning Club, of Boston, at their next meeting.” One day a friend of Tom's entered a well-known restaurant, on Lafayette Place, and found the author toying with a brace of plover and a bottle of yellow label. ‘Hello! How is the impecunious poet ?” lie asked. ‘Good morning. I'm glad to see you, Ned,” Tom answered. ious poet is all right. Sit down and watch him eat." “Genius and Luck is a good combination,” remarked Ned, as he took a chair. ‘0 luck about it ; I played a system,” retorted Tom. And the system won? More remarkable still.” “1 tell you about it. It was the magazines.” “The magazines! What do you mean? The stuff of yours I've seen in the maga- zines wouldn't push a root beer extract !” “That's the point, dear boy,” said the poet as he called the waiter and ordered another bottle. ‘I contributed only to the leading magazines, and I soon found out that they invariably accepted the poorest poem ‘out of each batch. When I tumbled to that, I sent them everything I wrote, and they weeded out the trash, and bought it. The poems which had sustained five rejections I regarded as perfect, and laid aside. Then, when the day came, I published them, and— Here’s to the health of the asth Edition !"" “The impecun- comicbooks.com