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IK CHEYEHHE TRANSPOSE
Ii the only Paper published within a
radius of a hundred iniles
SobSGiitfttoB. $1.00 For Temr. in AJlTance.
Brand Advirtiiimentt 5 Pir Year.
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made known on application.
She's barely twenty, and her eyes
Are very soft and very blue;
Her lips seem made for sweet replies,
Perhaps they're made for kisses, too;
Her little teeth are white as pearl,
Her nose aspires to the sky.
She really is a charming girl.
And I adored her last July.
We danced and swam and bowled and walked;
She let me squeeze her finger-tips,
Entranced I listened when she talked,
And trash seemed wisdom from her lips.
I sent her roses till my purse
Was drained, I found, completely dry;
I longed to King her charms in verse
But all of this was last Jul.
Of course at last we had to part;
I saw a tear-drop on her cheek ;
I left her with an aching heart,
And dreamt about her for a week.
But out of sitfht is out of mind,
And somehow, as the time went by,
Much fainter I began to find
The memory of last July.
Julvhas come again at last;
with summer gowns the rocks are gay;
It seemed an echo of the past
To meet her on the beach to-day.
She's even fairer than of yore,
And vet, I could not tell you why,
I find the girl an awful bore
So loni; it is since last July.
Sophie St. O. Lawrence, in July Century.
The liotcl business in New York is
Tiieiie arc 500 miles of streets in
Cceuii d1 Alexis mining-camp is al
ready showing signs of weakness.
In Zacatlan, Mexico, a Peddler's
Protective association is being formed.
The spongers have done a good
business at the bars down in Florida.
The Georgia state temperance con
vention will bo held in Atlanta on July
Montana, sheep are selling at $5 a
head and cattle atS35 to $40 in the
It costs not less than 833,000,000 an
nually to support the dogs of the
The Irish Land league, which is in
session at Dublin, has received 1,000
A Virginia cat is reported to be
rearing two young foxes along with her
litter of kittens.
Five women are on the grand jury
in the Third judicial district of Wash
An Easton, Pa., woman was commit
ted to jail for three hours the other day
for stealing a ring.
A Bradfokd county, Florida, farmer
has sixty acres of cotton waist high
and full of blooms.
On account of the scarcity of water
some of the cigar factories in Key
West have stopped.
New Yokk dressmakers predict very
few extravagant and costly toilets at
the watering places.
TniiEE hundred pounds of honey was
obtained from a bee-tree recontly cut
near Chehalis, Montana.
Walla Walla, Washington terri
tory, is shipping strawberries at the
rate of 3,000 pounds a day.
A Kentucky town which was named
llayesvillo in honor of President Hayes
has been rechristencd Andersonvillo.
Investigation into tho financial af
fairs of Chautauqua county, New York,
shows that tho shortage of the missing:
treasurer is over $50,000.
Fort Woktii, Tex., is a rustling
town. It has a white elophant, a cat
tle exchango, a variety show of beauti
ful blonds, a gambling saloon, and five
hundred gin mills. There is some talk
of building a church.
Mr. Arthur Jelleman had written
poor verses tor obscure indications
until he had gained the unenviable
name of poet. Whenever he visited a
neighboring village the local publica
tion spoke of him as the poet. The
rude stones in neighboring grave
yards bore much of his literary work
mortal addresses to immortality. In
early boyhood he was apprenticed to a
shoemaker, but shortly afterwards
having met the bright-eyed little
dughtcr of the tin smith, the jingling
feet of measured words instead of the
feet of the human family claimed his
attention. His first production was
scribbled in spraddling letters on an
old slate, one side of which was covered
with the names of "tough customers."
When the simple-minded shoemaker
spelled tne words ana ar
rived at an understanding of their im
novt. he turned to the bov and said:
"Arthur, if I was in your place, T:
wouldn't hump myself over old shoes.
You are a poet. It is said that poets
arc born, and after readin' this here
artickle, hanged if I haven't come to
the r-onelusion that you must have
"I was born," replied the boy with
enthusiasm. "I was born out at the
old Raine's place."
"That so?" exclaimed the shoemak
er, as though the boy, having proved
that he was born, verified his own as
sertion. After rellecting for a moment,
the shoemaker slowly shook his head,
and taking a piece of leather from a
tub of water, began to pound it and to
whistle in that tuneless way character
istic of the profession. Then, taking
up an old boot, he pressed it on his
knee with a leather strap which he
passed over the boot and Tinder lire
foot. "Wouldn't ketcli me whittlin'
hither if I could write po'try. My
brother was a poet, an' if he" hadn't
died, he would have been "
"Livin' yet?" suggested the boy.
"What did I tell you?" the shoe
maker exclaimed. "Nobody but a
poet would have thought of sayin'
that. There's money air good clothes
waitin' for you in this world."
"I hope the j won't wait very long."
"They won"! if you only act in time.
Don't you recollect what Shakespeare
said about takin' the bull by the
horns? 1 forget the exact words, but
I have heard my brother git 'em oil
many a time. Let me see: 'There is
fortune in the affairs of a man when ho
takes the bull by the horns.' That is
a lino pieeo of writin' an' I don't doubt
in the least that you can say some
thin' just as good after awhile."
"T have a notion to stop shoe-maV
ing," said the boy, half musing, fear
ful that any outburst on his part
would bespeak a lack of well-balanced
"Of course you have."
"But I couldn't make poetry pay at
the start, you know. I must study
and at tho same time do something to
"Xes, I know that, but it must not
bo shoemakin'. Shoemakers got to be
big politicians but they don't run much
to poetry, so, if you want to keep out
1 of politics, you must let ehoemakin'
alone. Why, sir, it is as much as I can
do to keep from going out on the
street and making a speech. I have
tuck it inter my head to go to a night
school and learn how to read in earn
est." "Probably you may become a poet,"
said the boy.
"No, that'll never be. I can make
cat an' hat rhyme, but nobody wants
that sort of poetry. Lemme tell you
what to do. Old man Boyd, what
lives out on the turnpike ain't got no
children. Now if you wuster strike
him, he might take a fancy to you an'
send you to college. S'pozcn you go
rite out there an' see him?"
"My father might not like it."
"He wouldn't care, for I told him
the other day that you ought to be in
school but he said that he couldn't af
ford to let you go. He meant that he
couldn't support you. Now you go
out and see old man Boyd."
"I'll go," the boy exclaimed, arising
and throwing his "apron aside. "I'll
tell him that I want to be a poet and it
may open his heart."
Old man Boyd was sitting in his
library, nursing a gouty foot when a
sharp rap at the door startled him.
Another sharp rap.
"Come in!" he yelled.
bull another rap.
"Confound your devilish
come in or go away."
Young Arthur Jelleman
bowed awkwardly, made embarrassed
motions with his hands and sank down
into an arm-chair. The chair was so
deep that his heels were lifted from
the floor, and the cushions were so
"stuffy," as an Englishman would say,
that the little fellow was almost hidden
from the gouty old man's view.
"Well, wrhat do you want?" de
manded Mr. Boyd rather severely.
"I want to be a poet."
"The devil you do!"
"Yes, sir, if you please."
"Oh, I have nothing to do with it.
If you want to be a poet, go on and be
one. Hand me that tumbler of
The boy scrambled from the chair
'and brought the water, but, in tho ex
ercise of great care, overlooked the
main point, and stej)ped on old man
Boyd's embodiment of gout. The old
man ilew into the air like a piece of
whalebone, and for a time the excited
boy despaired of ever again enjoying
"What made you do that?" thunder
ed the old man. "Confound it, do
you take me for a step-ladder?"
stAT f.; it
"Think I'm a path through a corn
field? Want to be a poet, eh! Hand
me that bottle of liniment, and if 3011
climb on me again I will exterminate
The hoy took up the bottle, but in ap
proaching the old man, stumbled and
fell. The bottle struck Mr. Boyd's
foot, and was then smashed against
the leg of the chair. Again the old
man left his chair and went up. The
boy could see nothing but an agonized
expression, but he soon heard some
thing, for the old man poured out a
flood of profanity and, seizing a chair,
he shook it until the windows rattled.
"I I didn't go to do it, sir."
"Of course not, you rapscallion.
You only came to do it. You have
"I hope not."
"No, you don't. You only hope that
you have. You came hither to murder
" I did not."
"J say you did."
"Look here, old gentleman, I am in
your house "
"Yes, I know you are."
"I say that I am in your house, and
don't want any trouble with you, but
you mustn't say that I want to hurt
you. I won't stand it," and drawing
himself up, he glared at tho old man.
Mr. Bovd smiled. He rather liked tho
exhibition of spirit, ami arising, he
walked across tho room without a
limp. "Hello," he suddenly exclaimed,
"the gout's gone. Why, my dear
young man, you are a physician. Tell
me something about yourself," press
ing his foot on the lloor. "Who sent
"Mr. Horner, tho shoemaker. My
name is Arthur Jollyman. Mr. Horner
told mo to come heft) and seo you, and
that you having no children might
take me and send me to school so I
could learn to write poetry."
"Can you curry a horso?"
Yes, sir, and saddle him, too."
Arc you sure that you would not put
the saddle on hind part in front?"
"If I did, I could turn it around."
"A very sensible remark, young fel
low. l)o you think if I were to take
you that you could refrain from com
ing to my bed at night and belaboring
me with a pole?"
"I don't understand you, sir."
"Well, no matter. Come to-morrow
and we will make arrangements.
Hand me that never mind."
Arthur found himself agreeably situ
ated. He attended a neighboring insti
tution of learning and made raj)id pro
gress. Mr. Boyd, who had met with
an early disappointment in literature
and who had become a severe critic,
discouraged the boy's poetic eilbrts,
employing his inllticnce in favor of
some useful profession, but the words
of the shoemaker were fresh in the
boy's memory, ringing in encourage
ment and telling him that he was born.
Horner, the shoemaker, emigrated,
and went the boy knew not whither.
The tin-smith's daughter, though she
had inspired the youth to lofty flights,
was soon forgotten by him, and this
forgetful ness of a former love, was the
only evidence that Arthur possessed
the talent of poesy. The girl took not
the affair to hetirt, but soon fell in love
with a bov who worked in a livery
stable. This lad, a brawny young fel
low, having learned that his "sweet
heart" had been slighted by Arthur,
sought the young rhymer and cut a
few fancy scallops over his eyes a just
punishment for faithlessness.
As time dragged itself along, voung
Arthur's manuscripts increased in vol
ume. He felt much anxiety concern
ing a publisher. Old Boyd told him to
put his "stulV" away, and let it coma
out as a posthumous publication. No,
the poet wanted the fame while he
lived. If he waited until he died somo
one might steal the credit. At last,
after paying a high price money for
which he had labored a publisher con
sented to issue the volume. The work
was beautifully bound, and was
adorned witli a picture of the author.
The poet didn't understand how any
one could refuse to buy a book so at
tractive, yet, somehow, people did re-
fuse. Of the one hundred and fifty
copies composing the edition, six vol
umes were sold, and the rest were
given away. Even in the gratuitous dis
posal, the poet experienced trouble,
for the practical men and unsenti
mental women of his neighborhood
cared nothing for "poetry." At last,
after writing for the village papers,
and leaving the imprint of his poetic
claw on many a gravestone, Mr. Arthur
Jelleman decided to take up his abode
in Arkansaw, where he would open a
school of refined learning, where
poetry and philosophy should be taught.
The people of the Buck Snort district
were startled. A report to the ellect
that a poet-teacher was coming to
"take up" school was quite enough to
astonish any one. The Buck Snorters
were acquainted with many kinds of
school teachers, none too intimately it
is true, but still they were acquainted
with many kinds. They knew the old
bachelor, the old maid, the widow and
tho young lady whose relatives had
been swept awayby yellow fever; they
knew the Irishman and the man who
lost a leg during the war, but a poet
teacher was one that they had never
seen. Some of the more intelligent
declared that ho was only an ordinary
man, While others affirmed that lie
was half human and half animal. At
any rate, every one was anxious to see
Mr. Arthur Jelleman, and when the
school opening-day arrived, a large
crowd of anxious visitors filled the
school house to ovcillowing. They
were much disappointed to see an ordi
nary young man with still' hair and a
mustache of bristles. The girls sniifed
their noses at him and the young men
muttered revenge. When the visitors
departed, the arrangement of classes
I here were no two books
in fact there was no uni
formity except in greasy slates and
bottles of pokeberry ink. The first day
passed without an incident. The sec
ond day was not so quiet. John Plura
mer, a large, "raw-boned" fellow who
I lived "over the bayou," had from tho