The Gypsy Woman

1901

The gypsy woman
Lives on the moor;
She sleeps in a tent,
With a curtained door.

Low is her dwelling
And hard her bed,
But the stars at night
Are a crown for her head.

Rough is her greeting:
From all that's human,
But the morning smiles
At the gypsy woman.

The wind is her harper
And brings from far
His sons of wooing
And shouts of war.

On the printed page
She need never look;
The changing sky
Is her holy book.

She knows not the call
Of church bells ringing;
The falling rain
Makes sweeter singing.

And the voice of the lark
At morn and even
Is a key to open
The gate of heaven.

—Westminster Gazette.

He's Willing Now

1920

But Champion Is a Late Late, Says Georgia Poet.

The following was received by the sporting editor of The Saturday Blade from Atlanta, Ga.:

Our Champion.

He's willing to fight in France, they say,
For half a million or so;
But he passed up a chance at a buck a day
When they called on us all to go.

I think I speak for a million chaps
Who went to France with a vim,
Ready for anything — death perhaps —
So —
Hope Georges whales hell out of him.

—Jack Converse.

—The Saturday Blade, Chicago, Jan. 3, 1920, p. 10.

Note: This poem concerns Jack Dempsey, whose reputation was tainted when it was alleged he was a draft dodger during World War I. There's some details at this link. "Georges" was Georges Carpentier, a French war hero. Dempsey had a match against him in 1921, called the "Battle of the Century."


Canadian Boxer Challenges

1920

Brousseau Wants to Meet Carpentier In Montreal.

The Canadian Hockey Club has cabled a challenge to Georges Carpentier's manager in London for the French boxer to meet Eugene Brousseau, Dominion's middleweight champion, in a boxing exhibition in Montreal, July 1, Dominion day, at one of the race tracks.

Brousseau has recovered from a slight attack of paralysis, which followed his bout with Chip, in Portland.

—The Saturday Blade, Chicago, Jan. 3, 1920, p. 10.

Longfellow's "Hiawatha"

1896

The Indian epic of "Hiawatha" took the world by surprise, writes Hezekiah Butterworth in an article "How Longfellow Wrote His Best-Known Poems" in Ladies' Home Journal.

Its form and its matter were for a long time mysteries. How could a Cambridge literary recluse produce such an epic? Certain critics claimed that the idea, form and magic treatment of the poem had been borrowed from a Scandinavian sage, and the implication greatly disturbed his publishers, and must have caused his sensitive spirit great pain. It partly eclipsed for a time the new star in the literary horizon on which all eyes were fixed.

The criticism was disarmed; the wonder grew; a fixed star had appeared. But the mystery of the poem is simply solved. Longfellow desired to produce an epic that should be in sympathy with all that was most beautiful and noble in the vanishing Indian race. Abraham Le Fort, an Onondaga chieftain, had furnished Schoolcraft, the historian, much Indian lore and many mystic traditions, with certain Indian vocabularies, in which the musical and unmusical sounds of many words indicated their meaning.

These traditions and vocabularies made the work of the poet easy. One only needs to read Schoolcraft, to whom the poet acknowledged his indebtedness, to see how this monument to the Indian race, their only great literary memorial, was builded.

Author of "Flying Machine" Poem Sees First Airplane

Author of "Darius Green and His Flying Machine"

1910

John Townsend Trowbridge Wrote the Poem 40 Years Ago, and the Whole Country Laughed

Boston. — Among the thousands of persons who witnessed the recent aviation meet at Boston there was no more interesting spectator than John Townsend Trowbridge, author of the poem, "Darius Green and his Flying Machine," which made the whole country laugh 40 years ago.

Despite his advanced age, 83, Mr. Trowbridge journeyed from his home in Arlington, Mass., to this city in order to take his first look at a machine which had been his dream from boyhood — a machine which would fly. He was introduced to several of the aviators, among them Glen Curtiss, Grahame White, Wilbur White and others, and the old gentleman was immensely pleased to meet them.

When Mr. Trowbridge wrote about Darius Green, 40 years ago, no one of that time expected to see a flying machine that would fly. There were lots of machines that wouldn't, but the idea of usurping the realm of the birds carried something uncanny with it. The baleful results of experiments of those times were always looked upon, more or less, as deserved.

Speaking of the days of Darius Green, the poet says: "I never dreamed when I wrote that poem that such a thing as a flying machine was possible in my time. I never had the thought of actually seeing one. While I have never attempted to build one, I have followed the aeroplane development from the first, and it has always seemed to me that the greatest factor and the hardest to overcome would be the motive force.

"I have never known that there were such powerful motors, and motors so light, as they are now using. They were a revelation to me. I don't care to make any prophecies as to the future, but it seems to me that the large machine for carrying passengers is possible, and only a matter of time."

Thirty Girls Eat Ice Cream

Illinois, 1906

Drill Corps the Guests of General Pennypacker

As guests of General Galusha Pennypacker of Philadelphia, Pa., who is visiting with "Dad" Stearns at the Decatur hotel, the members of the Girls' Drill Corps ate ice cream and cake until they could eat no more Monday night.

Last Saturday General Pennypacker was invited by Commandant James M. Cowan to use the girls drill. He was so delighted with them and with their fine maneuvering that he asked how he could recompense them for his pleasure. He said he thought it was a notable thing to put "thirty young women together for thirty minutes, and have only one do the talking." He suggested ice cream, and the young girls gathered at the Decatur hotel Monday night at his invitation.

There was music during the evening, and "Dad" read some poems and sang, accompanied by his son, Charles Stearns, on the guitar. The general wrote his name and address on the paper napkin of each guest.

—The Daily Review, Decatur, IL, May 15, 1906, p. 7.

A Literary Curiosity — 38 Lines, Different Poets, One Poem

1878

A Literary Curiosity

A lady occupied a whole year in searching for and fitting the following thirty-eight lines from English and American poems. The whole reads almost as if it had been written at one time and by one author:

LIFE

Why all this toil for the triumphs of an hour? —Young.
Life's short summer — man is but a flower; —Dr. Johnson.
By turns we catch the fatal breath and die —Pope.
The cradle and the tomb, alas! so nigh. —Prior.
To be is better far than not to be. —Sewell.
Though all man's life may seem a tragedy; —Spencer.
But light cares speak when mighty grief is dumb— —Daniel.
The bottom is but shallow whence they come. —St. Walter Ralph.
Your fate is but the common fate of all; —Longfellow.
Unmingled joys here no man befall. —Southwell.
Nature to each allots his proper sphere. —Congreve.
Fortune makes folly her peculiar care; —Churchill.
Custom does often reason overrule, —Rochester.
And throw a cruel sunshine on a fool. —Armstrong.
Live well — how long or short permit to heaven —Milton.
Those who forgive most shall be most forgiven. —Bailey.
Since may be clasped so close we cannot see its face— —French.
Vile intercourse where virtue has not place. —Somerville.
Then keep each passion however dear, —Thompson.
Thou pendulum betwixt a smile and tear; —Byron.
Her sensual shares let faithless pleasure lay, —Smollet.
With craft and skill to ruin and betray. —Crabbe.
Soar not too high to fall, but stoop to rise; —Massinger.
We masters grow of all that we despise. —Crowley.
Oh, then, renounce that impious self-esteem; —Beattie.
Riches have wings, and grandeur is a dream. —Cowper.
Think not ambition wise because 'tis brave. —Sir Wm. Davenaut.
The paths of glory lead but to the grave. —Gray.
What is ambition? 'Tis but a glorious cheat. —Willis.
Only destructive to the brave and great. —Addison.
What's all the gaudy glitter of a crown? —Dryden.
The way to bliss lies not on beds of down. —Francis Quaries.
How long we live, not years but actions tell; —Watkins.
That man lives twice who lives the first life well. —Herrick.
Make, then, while yet ye may, your God your friend. —Wm. Mason.
Whom Christians worship, yet not comprehend. —Hill.
The trust that's given guard, and to yourself be just; —Dana.
For live we how we may, yet die we must. —Shakespeare.

—Daily Star, Marion, OH, April 1, 1878, p. 2.

ORAL TEST

TEACHER: Take four out of five and what do you have, Tommy?
TOMMY: Pyorrhea, ma'am.

I don't get it.

NOTHING COULD BE PLAINER
BUTLER: A lady wishes to speak to you on the 'phone, sir.
YOUNG LORDLING: How do you know she is a lady?
"She said, 'Is that you, old pickled onion?' when I answered, sir!"

Hmm, that one's lost on me, too.

Teacher: "Tommy, what is a relief map?"
Tommy: "A woman who has just had her face lifted!" -- America's Humor

Not clear to me. So I'll finish it off with another one I don't get:

ICHABOD
With uplifted eyes he once admired
Milady's golden tresses.
Now with down-cast eyes he is inspired
By silk 'neath shrunken dresses. -- S.P.C., Caballo, N. Mex.

THAT'S PEP

Vigor, vitality, vim and punch --
That's pep!
The courage to act on a sudden hunch,
That's pep!
The nerve to tackle the hardest thing,
With feet that climb, and hands that cling,
And a heart that never forgets to sing --
That's pep!

Sand and grit in a concrete base --
That's pep!
Friendly smile on an honest face --
That's pep!
The spirit that helps when another's down,
That knows how to scatter the blackest frown,
That loves its neighbor and loves its town,
That's pep!

To say "I will" -- for you know you can --
That's pep!
To look for the best in every man --
That's pep!
To meet each thundering knockout blow,
To back with a laugh, because you know,
You'll get the best of the whole darned show--
That's pep!

HER OWN MEDICINE

Mary: "Going out to the drug-store, dad?"
Dad: "Yes, Why?"
Mary: "Bring me back a couple of pills with you?"
Dad: "What's the matter with those that have been calling on you?" -- America's Humor.

FLAPPER FLIPPANCY
One-half of me would be a saint,
The other half a sinner;
And I will utter no complaint,
Whichever part's the winner.

FLAPPER: I'd like a pair of garters, please.
MALE CLERK: Yes, miss. Something like the ones you have on?

WONDERFUL
CUSTOMER: What is this device?
AUTO DEMONSTRATOR: That shuts off the spark.
CUSTOMER: And what is this thing for?
AUTO DEMONSTRATOR: That shuts off the gas. And this other little device is the best feature of all.
CUSTOMER: What does it do?
AUTO DEMONSTRATOR: It shuts off the conversation on the back seat.

STORK WAS JUST TEASING
Mr. and Mrs. Raymond Poquette, of Chicago, were expecting a visit from the stork. Poquette wanted a son, his wife preferred a daughter. When at last the stork arrived the anxious father was informed he had a brand new daughter. Almost before he could get over the shock the nurse told him of the arrival of a second daughter. When a few minutes later the nurse again approached Poquette he braced himself for another shock. This time he was told he had a charming boy. Then the father cheered up; at last he had got his wish.

CAUGHT
YOUNG WIFE (to her friend): Just think what a painful position I am in. While I was fainting because my husband would not buy me a new hat I saw him kiss the maid -- and I can't say anything about it because I was supposed to be unconscious!