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Newspaper Page Text
'CONSTANCY." OR TALE OF A POET'S LOVE AFFAIR
By Arthur Ginterman.
"Take a look at this' called
the able editor of the Stilus, that
great modern magazine which
leads where all others follow;
g "doesn't this strike you as a pret
ty fairish bit of verse for the next
number? And it's from Boston
at that. Listen:
My love is selfish? As you
But all for you ifs warmth en
dures. My love is blind ! Ah, no ! it sees
One perfect face, and that is
Those heavy braids of auburn
Those opal depths of constant
.Would make an anchorite forswear
His treasured hope of Paradise.
Then let the Moon forsake the
Or philomel forget his mate,
Or thou thyself prove fals,e to me,
My soul shall still he true to
i Algeron Pearson Wadleigh.
"By the way, what's Philo-
"Poetry for a nightingale," re
plied the learned sub-editor.
"Well, it's pretty good, any
how; there's a sort of spontaneity
and sincerity about it. Guess we
better keep it."
So, in due time, which may
mean anything from a week to
two months, the following note
gladened the constant heart of the
patient waiter in Boston :
"My Algeron Pearson Wadleigh :
"Dear sir: We enclose here
with the check of the Stilus Pub
lishing Co. for $8 in payment for
all rights in your poem entitled,
'Constancy.' Hoping to see more
of your work.
Very truly yours,
Three days later the editor of
Stilus tossed a note over to his
lieutenant. "Say! What do you
think of this?"
"Editor of the Stilus :
"Dear Sir: I think you very
much for accepting my verses,
Constancy.' But I would like to
ask you as a great favor to make a
slight change which I think will
considerably improve them.
Please alter the last two stanzas
That rippling wealth of golden
Those liquid depths of azure
Would make an anchorite for
swear All hope of our paradise.
And though the Moon forsake the
And though the Stars forget to
Though thou thyself art false to
Yet still, Belinda, I am'thine!
Algeron Pearson Wadleigh.
P. S. This is important.
"Ah," sighed the sub-editor;
"Youth, Youth! Algeron cer-