Impertinent Poems Part 11

Cried a cla.s.sical friend one day.

"I'm sure your impressions accord with mine, But I want your own words and way.

And, oh, "the tone-color beats belief,"

And, oh, "dynamics," and oh, "motif,"

And "chiar-oscura, how finely abstruse,"

And oh, la-la-la, and oh, well, what's the use?

For the only thing I understood in the play Was that dippy, old dragon of _papier-mache_.

Oh, yes, I'm a bit of a bluff, it's true; What style of a bluff are you?

"And the senator should, you believe, be returned?"

Said a newspaper-man to me.

"He's as rotten a rascal as ever burned,"

I said. "May I quote?" asked he.

"Oh, no," I replied, "if you're going to quote, Just remark that his friends are regretting to note That the exigencies of the party case Indicate that he shouldn't re-enter the race."

For the senator sometime may possibly be Interviewed by a newspaper-man about me.

No, none of these cases may quite fit you, But what sort of a bluff _are_ you?

[Ill.u.s.tration: "And, oh, the tone color beats belief"

_Page 88._]

THE CRITICS.

As a matter of fact, I am sure I can act, And so, When I go, To the show, Not the art of an Irving Seems wholly deserving, And though Booth were the star He'd have many a jar, If he heard the critique Which I frequently speak, As you Do, Too.

Written deep in my heart Is a knowledge of art, For why?

I've an eye Like a die.

And where Raphael's paint Has bedizened some saint, I note his perspective Is sadly defective, And you? O, I know When you've looked on Corot The same Blame Came.

And the world would have gained If my voice had been trained, For my ear Is severe, As I hear De Reszke and Patti.

(I've heard 'em sing "ratty!") And the crowd has yelled "Bis!"

When a call for police Should have shortened the score.

Was there ever a more Absurd Word Heard?

And I feel, now and then, I could handle a pen, For indeed, As I heed What I read, I observe many faults; Homer nods, Shakespere halts, Dante's sad, Pope is trite, Poe's mechanic, Holmes light, Yet so easy to do Is the thing, even you Might Write Quite Bright!

PLUG.

As you haven't asked me for advice, I'll give it to you now: Plug!

No matter who or what you are, or where you are, the how Is plug.

You may take your dictionary, unabridged, and con it through, You may swallow the Britannica and all its retinue, But here I lay it f. o. b.--the only word for you Is plug.

Are you in the big procession, but away behind the band?

Plug!

On the cobble, or asphaltum, in the mud or in the sand, Plug!

Oh, you'll hear the story frequently of how some clever man Cut clean across the country, so that now he's in the van; You may think that you will do it, but I don't believe you can, So plug!

[Ill.u.s.tration: Do you want to reach the heights?

_Page 92._]

Are you singing in the chorus? Do you want to be a star?

Plug!

You may think that you're a genius, but I don't believe you are, So plug!

Oh, you'll hear of this or that one who was born without a name, Who slept eleven hours a day and dreamed the way to fame, Who simply couldn't push it off, so rapidly it came!

But plug.

Are you living in the valley? Do you want to reach the height?

Plug!

Where the hottest sun of day is and the coldest stars of night?

Plug!

Oh, it may be you're a fool, but if a fool you want to be, If you want to climb above the crowd so every one can see Just how a fool may look when he is at his apogee, Why, plug!

Can you make a mile a minute? Do you want to make it two?

Plug!

Are you good and up against it? Well, the only thing to do Is plug.

Oh, you'll find some marshy places, where the crust is pretty thin, And when you think you're gliding out, you're only sliding in, But the only thing for you to do is think of this and grin, And plug.

There's many a word that's prettier that hasn't half the cheer Of plug.

It may not save you in a day, but try it for a year.

Plug!

And to show you I am competent to tell you what is what, I a.s.sure you that I never yet have made a centre shot, Which surely is an ample demonstration that I ought To plug.

FAMILIARITY BREEDS CONTENT.

I.

You sometimes think you'd like to be John D.?

And not a man you know would dare To josh you on your handsome hair, Or say, "Hey, John, it's rather rude To boost refined and jump on crude, To help Chicago University, Or bull the doctrine of--immersity."

II.

You wouldn't care to be the Pope, I hope?

With not a chum to call your own, To hale you up by telephone, With, "Say, old man, I hope you're free To-night. Bring Mrs. Pope to tea.

Let some one else lock up the pearly Gateway to-night and get here early!"