EDITOR'S WALLET.

Otago Witness, Issue 2506, 2 April 1902, Page 72

EDITOR'S WALLET.

«'<mfes«»ons of a Bald Poet. , HIS HAIELESS EOAD TO FOBTXXE. j Back iii the barbarous latter days of the , nineteenth century there used to be a popular belief that poets must of necetsity have long hair. I have changed all that. Once I had plentiful hyacinthine locks, but my habit of running my fingers through them in search of inspiration woic them all aw^y, till at last 1 w*s as bald as an eg«. Ii desperation, I spent my last shilling, in the purchase of a wig, and sot iut lart autumn to try to pell an editor some Christmas verses. Alas ! in choosing Blaekfriars bridge, a treacherous gust of wind took both hat and wig away. My hat I recovered, but the wig floated away on the muddy boioni of the =ilcnt Thames To interview an editor hairless teemed little Ehoru of suicidal : but the knowledge that I had rnten only a. solitary ham sandwich for two days egged me on. and I tremblingly sought hk presence. He ro.-^ as I entered, his eyes bulging with astonishment and his mouth w-ide open. "You a poet? Never!" bo exclaimed. "Why, you haven't a single hair !" "Alas, too true !" 1 faltced. "But still, I would like you to hear just one cf my Christmas verses." • "Read quickly, then, and pick a thort >ne." I unfolded my bundle of MS. and began : 'Tis now the time of "Soel, the hour loi Christmas bells, And on the frosty air their tintinnabulation swells. I stand ard sadly ponder on sweet memories of yore.' Oh, do not stop them' Let tiierr tmtinr.ab some more 1 The editor rose and clapped me in his arms. "I will take all your poem 1 - !" he taid j excitedly, and frantically blew into spe.ik- j ing tubes aud rang at telephone*. •"Stop the preas," he howled, ''and knock out the instalment of Cains Hall's new novel ! I've got some sonnets by Puripese Pedgrift, the bald-headed poet!" Then he turned to me: *"My dear sh. allow me to draw you a cheque for " And here he named a prodigious sum. '"But," I murmured, "this i= too gererou-. Kipling himself doesn't, get paid such rates." "'Kip me no Kips !" he retorted. "Rudyard'fc got a lot more hair than you ha\e, and I don't say but what, if he slia\ed his head, he'd be worth more than you ; but the public wants novelty, and a bald-headed poet is the item they are panting for. Send in a lot more rubbi — cr — poems every tfeek, and come and see me again soon. Bless you ! "Bless you, my dear sir ! Good day !" And so I mounted the first rung of the ladder of fame. Soon after my verses appeared in print I received a letter from a countess She said she had read them, and was so charmed unit she yearned to make my acquaintance with a yearn of considerable magnitude. Would I" come to her next dinner party? Of course I would ; and I proved to be the lion of the evening, completely putting in the shade a young man from the front, who had merely been fighting Boers or something. Aw-t before I left, my hostess beggeel me to wiite something in her "sentiment book." I dashed off the following lines on "Fame," which have been mveh admired by critio: Dh tell nap, what is fame > I&'t found upoa the hills, By river-bank or 011 the iorest's slope 9 iWouldst seek it c'en by taking someone's pills 9 Or wash thyself to fa-sour on a soap 9 2so ; better far the if use to woo, I ween, And. Uairless, charm the readers of a magazine. A few clays after the dinner party had been duly chronicled in the various society journals, and my verse freely quoted. 1 received a visit from a representative of a certain great morning newspaper. I admitted him, becau=e e\en common people are not altogether insensible to genius, and 3ie begged to be allowed to interview me. On my according him permission, he suddenly " rose from his chair and gave me ceveral sounding slaps on the head. "Does it hurt?" he queried. "You scoundrel !" I gasped. "Hurt? Why, of course it does ! What do you mean by it?" "Oh, it's all right, then!" he responded coolly. "You see, I have to be sure you're not a fraud. You might have a false scalp tip soa&e&inji 04, %ad take jceqalfi ia« #

you're a real bald-headed poet you ought to be" making a decent income soon." "You might give us a sample verse, you know," he proceeded, just to show that you really are genuine. Can't yon imise a little on the majesty of the press?" | I mused : j Oh, mighty power! How ignorant should we be i If cf the news thou spreadst we were bereft! | How dark the hour when going to buy a "Mail, ' We find the newsboy hasn't any left' The young man thanked me effusively, and said he imagined the interview would • create a great sensation. It certainly did, I and for some time afterwards I was besieged by all sorts of requests for photographs and autographs; while one fair lady, who cou'd not have been aware of my unique characteristic, begged for a lock of my hair. Order after order for my poems poured in, and also offers from tho owners of in- | numerable hair-restorers to send me quantities of their respective specifics if I would I only credit any subsequent appearance of i hirsute appendage to their sole use. I have recently kindly consented to read a paper before the Royal Society upon "The Impossibility of Having both Hair and I Brains," and have also arranged to give a I course of readings from my poems, at a i huge fee. j I wish, it to be distinctly understood, j hov/erer. that .it is not for the salce of the I money that I have consented to do this. J I In fact, if any reader turns to book xxiii, j canto lA3, of the octavo morocco-bound ! edition of my poems, he will find that I say of money : j "Vile dross, for which men sacrifice their lives, Toil, scheme, and plunder, marry wealthy wives, I crave thee not' sly modest little store Is for the time when I can earn r.o more. I quote these lines because some low . critic ridiculed them. He said that, judg- 1 ing by the rate at which I was earning lpone}', if the accumulation of \ile dross wasn't a craving with me it must be a hereditary taint. I merely mention this to show that even the most famous of us have enemies. Although I keep three shorthand and type writers constantly at work eight hours a day, I still find the pupply of my poems is not equal to the demand ; and, with the I exception of one lady novelist. I am the j only living writer who enjot-s the privilege 1 of daring to be rude to a publisher. ' I I see by the Ragtime Gazette that my name is generally talked about as the one ' that wiil be selected when the "Laureateship next falls vacant; and from high quarters I hear all sorts of tumours that I am to bo included in thf next h*t of honours, j This, may probably be due to an ode which . 1 addressed to the Prince of Wales on his safe return from h:«s recent journey round j ihe world. A limited number of copies j were disposed of among the aristocracy at 50gs each ; but, so that the ordinary people ' may have an opportunity of enjoying it, I here give -p. few lines: 1 Hail to thee. George! Our much-loved Prir.cc 1 of Wales! • | Across the foam thou'Tt borr.e, with many tales Of weird colonial sights —hills, valley?, gea=, I Maoris, blacks, arc! j»bong:r.ees, ! With which to charm u=. you're safe j back home, ; Doubtless you're glad that have ceased to , roam, Anci, filled with memories sweet of lands afar, O»n talk about thorn to you: ueai phra. Then Mrs Eeedick looked Fcolbh. When Mr Kcedick reached home one e\ ening lie was confronted by a very angry wife. He had scarcely got inside the door and j hung l.is hat, on tho hall rack before &he blurted out : "You've got a new t\pi-t'" "Why. yes," rr-piied Keedick. "How did jou find it out?" "Oh, I am up to your goings-on, I ran tell you. You got your new typist yesterday." "1 d:cl. Who told you?" "Well, if you mtiFt know, it was Mr* Uaskctr. Her husband told hei. You j needn't think you c. t n keep rhingj, from i mo - a. "i have no de=lre to, dear." "Don't dear me ! Your typist i~ only about 18 years old "As nearly as I can judge of age?, I should say "that was about right.' "And has moltmg brown eyes," Mri Keectick went on, nidiiiiiaiitly •'l'o-N.bly : but ] ha\en"t noticed them doing any melting. "Oil, no' Of course not. With a «oft voice and charming manners." "You are nearly light " "Nearly right ! I know I'm quite right '." exclaimed the jealous woman. "Now, 1 want you to tell me the name of the forward creature."' "You want the name of my ty|ji-t'-" "Yes, I do." "What for?" "Never mind what for. I v. ant your typist's name." * "It is John Henry Simpson. What arf you going to do about it; ' Mr tfooley on Athletics. "Mr Dooley" favour^ hi*, readei.- with biviews on "Athletics,"" from which ue make the following extrae-t- : — '•We're gettin' to be th' gr-rcate-t <.pooitin' nation in th' wuriuld," Mr Hennery, who had been labouring tnrough pages of athletic intelligence which he could not understand. "Oh, <-o we ai-re," said Mr Doolr-y. "An' I wondLer ri»e= it do us annv good "Tis linpoorted fr'm th' Eugh'h. They have a sayiu' over there that th' Jook iv vVellinlou haul first, or somebody said Vr him, an' that's been said a number n time= fcince, that th' battle iv Watherloo wj a won on th' playni' fields iv Eton, that bem' a schor. 1 where th' youth iv England an' Pittsburg is sint f'r idd^cation. "It was not. Th' battle iv Watherloo wa? won on th' potato fields iv Wexford an' th' bog patches iv Connock, that's where 'twas won. Th' Fr-riuch ar re a good fightm' people, an' a Fr-rinehman eucTden't hit a goluf ball with a scoop shovel. Th' Germans is a hardy race, an' they thrain ou Wesphalyau ham an' Boouweiser. an' th' on'y exercise they haie is howlin' at a sangerfest. "Th' Rooshyaus i-> a lur-rbJo crowd, an' they get their strenth by stand. ll' on th' corner ask in' if ye have army ol' clothes ye'd like to sell or be matehiu' knpeok-, f'r tli* vodkies. Ar-re we army beuhor, tell me, f'r bein' th' high tinnii expert-;, th' intherprisin' rowsmen, th' champeen yachters iv i th' wurruld thin we were whin we v.vre 1 on'y th' champeen pucMlers, milkerc, ; plougheraji an 1 sewiu' liiafibitts agent**"

"But 'tis good f'r th' women," said Mr Hennessy. "Is it, faith?" said Mr Dooley. "WelP, it may be. I don't know annything that cud th' men. I don't know annything that cud be more demoralizin' thin to be inarrid to a woman that cud give me a sthroke of a J shtick at goluf. 'Tis goin' to be th' roon . iv fam'ly life. 'Twill break up tb' happy home. I'm a man, we'll say, that's downtown fr'rn th' arly mornin' bendin' over a ledger an' thryin' to thrap a dollar or two to keep th' landlord fr'm th' dure. I dis- I pise athlect<!. I see that all th' men that ! have a metallic rattle whin they get on a moovin' sthreet car are pounds overweight, an' wud blow up if they jogged around th' corner. | '"Well, I come home at night, an' no • matther how I"\e been 'Here-you'd' all day, I I feel in me heart that I'm th' big thing I there. What makes me feel that way, says | ye? 'Tis th* sin=e iv physical supeeryonty. j Me wife is smarter thin I am She's had j navvthin' to do all day but th' housewurrk j an' puttin' in th' coal an' studyin' how she . can make me do something I don't want to j do that I wud want to do if she didn't want ' me to do it. She's thrained to th' minyit ( in havin' her own way. Her mind's clearer, ; mine bein' full iv bills iv ladtn' : she can j talk betther an" more frequent ; she can ■ throw me fam'ly in me' face, an' whin j har-rd put to it, her starry eyes can gleam with tear 3 that I think ar-re grief, but she knows difFrent. Au r I give in. But I'\e j ; won, just- th' same. , ! "But now, how is it? Igo home at night j an' I'm met at th' dure be a female joynt Me wife's th' champeen lady golufess iv j th' Ivy Leaf Goluf Club; th' finest oarsj lady on th 1 canal ; a tinnis player that [ r.one can raysist without injury. She can ride a horse, an' I cudden't stay on a merry-go-round without clothespinsi. She can box a good welter weight, an' she's got medals j f'r th' broad jump. Th' ou'y spoorts she I i=n't good at is cookan' an' washin'. This j I large lady, a little peevish because she's off her dhrive, meets me at th' dure an' begins issuin' orclhers befure 1 have me shoes off. "Tis jusl th' same as if I was back on th' i hoi-^t. She doesn't argy, she doesn't weep. She jus' says, 'Say, you,' an' I'm off on j th' bound. I look her over, an' say I to mcself, 'What's th' good? 1 cudden't cross that guard,' an' me reign is ended. I'm back to th' ranks iv th' prolitory. | "It won't do, Hinmssy lt"s a blow at , good govcrnmiut. 'Twill disrupt th' home. ' Our fathers was r-right. They didn't nsk ! i their lhes an' limbs be marrym' these j female Sharkeys. ! "In th' nex' 80 or GO years, if I make up me mind to iave this boisthercus life an' settle- down, th' lady that I'll rayquist to double me rent an' divide me borrowin' ! capacity will wear no medals f'r athletic \ spoo-rts. F'r, Hinnissy, I'm afraid I cud not. love a woman I might lo?e a fight to." I At a Hoofciugr Office. j I " When does the next train that utops j at Liverpool leave here?" asked the resolute widow at the booking-office window. j J "You'll have to wait fke hours, ma'am." ' " I don't think r : o." i '"Well, pcrhap? yoti know better ihan I do, ma'am." 1 "Yes, s.r, and perhaps you know better ! than I do whether I am expecting to travel j by that Irarn myself, or whether 1 am in1 quiring for a lelative that's \ kiting at my house aud wanted me to call here and ask about it and sa v e her the trouble, because fehe's packing up her things, anci may be you think it's your business to stand beh_ud there and try to instruct people about things they know as well as you do, if not better, and perhaps youil learn some day to give people civil answers when they ask you civil questions, young man, my opinion is you won't!" j With a ga->P, "Ye-, ma'am." j Tlie Longest Word. , " Rob," =aid Tom, " which is the most dangerous word to pronounce in the E?igI Ksh language? " j " Df-i't know," said Rob, "unless it's a , swearing word { "Pooh 1 " said Tom, "it's stnmblpd, be- ' oaii'-e you are sure to get a tumble between j the first and la-st letter." I "Ha, ha!" said Rob. " Xow, I've got or.o for you I found it one day in the paper. Which i^ the longest word in the Ecighih language? " " Incomprehensibility," answered Tom, piomptly. "'No. .>ir ; it's Einilos, because there's a v. Ikilp mile between the fir«t and last letter! " "Ho ho'" cried Tom. " that'^ nothing. T know a word that has. over three miles between ita beginning and ending." ""What's that?" asked Rob, "fauit'y. "Beleaguered,' said Tom. Tommy's Grammar Bules Work Batllr. Tommy was tod that "couple" was singular, and to make him remember it he liad to write an c^say about " A Couple. Tom'iiy went into his study corner, was quiet for half an hoiu, except cuee, when lio demanded the proper oithography of one ur two big words, and this is what he handed hih mother when it was all done: — A COUPLE. Theie was a couple that went fi-*liii g. One half of it wa<= a man; the bccoud half was a woman It went in a row boat with a pair of oars, which was also a couple. So that there was a couple of coup!e=. The woman half of the first couple caught a couple of fi^-h Tlkmi theie was three toap~!e«- Said the mr.ii part of the fir=t oouplr : " We ha<. caught enough fi-!<." Then lfc >at clown together, ;uid put lU arms mound it and baul ; " Oh, my. don't ' " But it "didn't act as if it cared much Just then the boat ran into a stump and stopped. Thi<- couple was \ery ■.mguUu for a while, but finally &ho =.ud to it- " George, my clear, doe-nt it tlnnk it i= tune to go home? It looked at its watch and said: '• Yes. dearie! It is ! " Th«j this couple was plural, while one of it rowed Tiomc. So a couple i« both singular and plural, just the same. The Toatiy and tlio Typical American. A L3-SOU —On a Ship bound for Southampton were two Americans who were taking their Money to England in order to offset the Balance of Trade. They intended tc go to London and haag around and j look Wistful until the Nobility atid Landed Gentry would take Fome notice of them. Each had a natent Scheme for securing Recognition. The first chased himfcelf to Re- . fUO>X yrrant ftpft frprior-ht hji *»niire QU.t£t o£

British Clothes. He began to use the souud of A as in Father, fie held his Hat in his Hand whenever he approached a Title. He went out of his Way to run down the vulgar Americans. Consequently he was walked upon, and despised as a Toady. The other Mrai allowed hi* Hair to grow down over his Collar. He wore a Buck Taylor Rat with a Leather Strap around it, and kept it tv Angle of 45deg. He refused the B and S., and demanded Cccktaih. When he met an Englishman he called him Paid, and held out his Flipper, and said he'd be catawampcusly Jiggered if he wasn't all-fired Proud U meet him. He plucked the Tail Feathers from the gullardous Bird of Freedom, and waved them defiantly at the Lion and the Unicorn. He »aid that the British Isle? were merely a Break-Water for theContinert. and wouldn't make a Patch on the Land of Liberty. He was invited to all the Drawing Rooms bscause it was a Pleasure to meot such a breezy and Typical Americar. Moral: When you are in Rome do ar= the Romans expect you to do.

"Hast Zeed Ferret!" Two young Devonshire farmers wcat out ferreting. They sat down, one on either side of a hedge. After half an hour one asked, " East zeed ferret? " " Noa," said the ether. This lively conversation "lasted about two hours, and then one suggested an armful of straw from the adjacent farm, and setting it r>:\ fire, at the mouth of* the rabbit" hole, with the object of driving out the ferret. This was done, but no ferret appeared. They waited in silence till du«k. Then one said. "Hast zeed ferret?" "Noa: hasn't ea? " '" Noa." '• Where be bag? " "Hasn't ye got un?" Noa." „ " Yus. ye must, for I hain't a got un. " Here "it be, and the ferret is in un." And so they wccit home to supper. Fcclesiastical Huinonr. It was a North of England clergyman who having announced that his bishop would shortly- visit that church, proceeded without ■ pausing to announce that his text was, "Be ! sober be vigilant, because your advt-rsary ! the devil as a roar. rig lion walketh about seokuig whom he may devour." The late Bi'hop of London (Dr Creightmi) used to tell the following story, which went ' against himself. In the course of a conversation, his lordship laughiugly remarked that he and two colleagues were often called I Faith. Hope, and Charity. " I," explained I the bishop, "ronresent Faith, Alarlborougu Hope, and Bedford Charity, for he is always begging whenever he goes. _ The 1 Bishop of Bedford, who was present, thereupon remarked, "Then, my lord, you know what the old Book says, ' The greatest n these is Charity.' " A Lincolnshire vicar having quarrelled with a parishioner of the name ri Hardy, chose for 1113 text on the following Sunday the words, ' "There is no foal like the foolhardy." Another parson, who had -received some offruco from the local mayor, a butcher by' trade, showed ingenuity rather than boldness when he stood and prayed thus with himself : "And since, O Lord, thou hast commanded us to pray for our cnemie-,, we beseech Thee (or the Right Worshipful the Mayor; give him the. strength of Samson and the courage of David, that he may "lcnock down bin Jike an ox, and sacrifice iniquity like a lamb, and may his horn be exalted among hie brethren !" . Sometimes, however, when the pulpit and the pew have been at loggerheads, the victory lias not always rested with the former. Thus it was on one occasion with a popular preacher of the eighteenth century, who. was famous for his skill in appropriating the ideas of those who had gone before. He had barely commenced his sermon, when a grave old gentleman, who had shown himsplf into a =eat just under the pulpit, was heard to mutter, "That's Sherlock.!" The preacher frowned, but went on. Before long, disconcerted by another exclamation, "That's Tillotson !" he paused, and bit his lips, but deemed it prudent to take no notice of the interruption. But when, a few sentences further on, he heard, "That' 3 Blair'" he could restrain himself no longer, and leaning o\er the pulpit, cried out, "Fellow, if you do not hold your tongue you shall be tuijicd out." "That's his own'" said the old gentleman, glancing round at his neighbour?. — Globe?. On Cue String. Paganiui had his eccentricities. He was surly when the glow of composition was upon him, and worked with his coat and vet off, the slipper of his right foot kicked a.-ide. and his left .suspender dangling down his back. This pleaping anecdote is told of him: — One day when at Florence he jumped into a <ab and gave orders to be driven to the theatre. The distance wa-> not great, but he wa* late, and an enthusiastic audience was waiting to hear him perform the famous prayer of "Moise" on a (-ingle string. "How mucii do -i owe you"/" he a»ked the dmer. "For your fare it is ten francs," said the man, who had recognised the great violini=t. "What! Ten francs? You are surely je-un-4 '" he cried. j "I am speaking -eriou=ly. You charge as much foi a *r>at at your copn-rl." Pagainm »««. silent for an instant, then, v. itli"i Knnplacunt glance at the lathrr witty di ivei, lie saul : 1 will pay you ten franc 5 when you drive me upon one wheel " Hp then tendered two fiancs, which amount wa- accepted. ! The Widder in the .Midlands. The old man /n the shaggy overcoat mentioned something about the Midlands, and the passenger opposite leaned over towards him and asked : "Did you '-ay yon were from the Midlands?" "No; but. l have just come from there." "Then I want to asfe you a few questions How are times up there?" "I duuno." "Is money plenty, 01 the reverse?" "Can't say." "But don't j-ou know how the farmers are feeling?" "No." "lh business good or bad in the towns':" "I didn't a>k anybody." "You — you are not an observing mac."

"No, I suppose not. I went up >o .tK<&' Midlands to see a widdfr I used to know,;' and to ask her to marry me. I got to her 1 house at 3 o'clock in the afternoon. I asked! her to have me, and she said she wouldn't, and at 3.30 I was on my way back. B didn't see no crops, nor ask about good! times or bad. The folk there may be holdin'a reg'lar jubilee over good limes or everybody may be goin' to the workhouse. All I know about it is that I'm an old fool for spendin' the money to run arter a widdei in -r-he Midlands when I could hey married a Kent woman free of charge."