The Wit and Humor of America, Volume III. (of X.) by Marshall P. Wilder (good ebook reader .TXT) π
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- Author: Marshall P. Wilder
Read book online Β«The Wit and Humor of America, Volume III. (of X.) by Marshall P. Wilder (good ebook reader .TXT) πΒ». Author - Marshall P. Wilder
"Well," he said, "I'll tell you. This girl of mine reads pretty trashy stuff, and she knows about all the cheap novels there are. She dotes on 'The Duchess,' and puts[Pg 481] her last dime into Braddon. She knows them all by heart. Have you ever read 'Lady Audley's Secret'?"
"I see," I said. "One is a sequel to the other."
"No," said Mr. Gilkowsky. "One is the other. Some one has flim-flammed you and sold you a typewritten copy of 'Lady Audley's Secret' as a new novel."
VWhen I told Perkins he merely remarked that he thought every publishing house ought to have some one in it who knew something about books, apart from the advertising end, although that was, of course, the most important. He said we might go ahead and publish "Lady Audley's Secret" under the title of "The Crimson Cord," as such things had been done before, but the best thing to do would be to charge Rosa Belle Vincent's thousand dollars to Profit and Loss and hustle for another novelβsomething reliable and not shop-worn.
Perkins had been studying the literature market a little and he advised me to get something from Indiana this time, so I telegraphed an advertisement to the Indianapolis papers and two days later we had ninety-eight historical novels by Indiana authors from which to choose. Several were of the right length, and we chose one and sent it to Mr. Gilkowsky with a request that he read it to his sweetheart. She had never read it before.
We sent a detective to Dillville, Indiana, where the author lived, and the report we received was most satisfactory.
The author was a sober, industrious young man, just out of the high school, and bore a first-class reputation for honesty. He had never been in Virginia, where the scene of his story was laid, and they had no library in[Pg 482] Dillville, and our detective assured us that the young man was in every way fitted to write a historical novel.
"The Crimson Cord" made an immense success. You can guess how it boomed when I say that although it was published at a dollar and a half, it was sold by every department store for fifty-four cents, away below cost, just like sugar, or Vandeventer's Baby Food, or Q & Z Corsets, or any other staple. We sold our first edition of five million copies inside of three months, and got out another edition of two million, and a specially illustrated holiday edition and an edition de luxe, and "The Crimson Cord" is still selling in paper-covered cheap edition.
With the royalties received from the aftermath and the profit on the book itself, we madeβwell, Perkins has a country place at Lakewood, and I have my cottage at Newport.[Pg 483]
THE RHYME OF THE CHIVALROUS SHARK[2] BY WALLACE IRWINTo ladies forbearing and mild,
Though his record be dark, is the man-eating shark
Who will eat neither woman nor child.
And tourists his hunger assuage,
And a fresh cabin boy will inspire him with joy
If he's past the maturity age.
He'll gobble one any fine day,
But the ladies, God bless 'em, he'll only address 'em
Politely and go on his way.
Where a lovely young lady of Breem,
Who was tender and sweet and delicious to eat,
Fell into the bay with a scream.
And signaled in vain for her bark,
And she'd surely been drowned if she hadn't been found
By a chivalrous man-eating shark.
Thus soothing her impulses wild;
"Don't be frightened," he said, "I've been properly bred
And will eat neither woman nor child."
[Pg 484]
Such a gallantry none can disputeβ
While the passengers cheered as the vessel they neared
And a broadside was fired in salute.
When a life-saving dingey was lowered
With the pick of the crew, and her relatives, too,
And the mate and the skipper aboard.
And the shark stood attention the while,
Then he raised on his flipper and ate up the skipper
And went on his way with a smile.
To ladies forbearing and mild,
Though his record be dark, is the man-eating shark
Who will eat neither woman nor child.
[Pg 485] THE PLAINT OF JONAH BY ROBERT J. BURDETTE
The wicked prospers in his way,
And daily adds unto his hoard,
While cutworms smite the good man's gourd?
Comes the shrill-voiced book-selling maid,
And smites me with her tireless breathβ
Then am I angry unto death.
Who comes with accents loud and smooth,
And talks from dawn to midnight late?
The honest labor candidate.
Whose brazen gall no ire can balk
And wearies me of life's short span?
The accident insurance man.
I think to call one hour mine own,
Who takes my leisure by the throat?
The villain taking up a vote.
[Pg 486] A DOS'T O' BLUES BY JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY
And I ust to kindo talk
Aginst 'em, and claim, 'tel along last Fall,
They was none in the fambly stock;
But a nephew of mine, from Eelinoy,
That visited us last year,
He kindo convinct me differunt
While he was a-stayin' here.
They'd tackle him ever' ways;
They'd come to him in the night, and come
On Sundays, and rainy days;
They'd tackle him in corn-plantin' time,
And in harvest, and airly Fall,
But a dose't of blues in the wintertime,
He 'lowed, was the worst of all!
The mumps, er the rheumatizβ
Er ever'-other-day-aigger's bad
Purt' nigh as anything is!β
Er a cyarbuncle, say, on the back of his neck,
Er a felon on his thumb,β
But you keep the blues away from him,
And all o' the rest could come!
[Pg 487]
Ner a spear o' grass in sight!
And the whole wood-pile's clean under snow!
And the days is dark as night!
You can't go outβner you can't stay inβ
Lay downβstand upβner set!"
And a tetch o' regular tyfoid-blues
Would double him jest clean shet!
He could stay 'tel Spring-time come;
And Aprile first, as I rickollect,
Was the day we shipped him home!
Most o' his relatives, sence then,
Has either give up, er quit,
Er jest died off; but I understand
He's the same old color yit!
[Pg 488] MORRIS AND THE HONORABLE TIM[3] BY MYRA KELLY
On the first day of school, after the Christmas holidays, teacher found herself surrounded by a howling mob of little savages in which she had much difficulty in recognizing her cherished First-Reader Class. Isidore Belchatosky's face was so wreathed in smiles and foreign matter as to be beyond identification; Nathan Spiderwitz had placed all his trust in a solitary suspender and two unstable buttons; Eva Kidansky had entirely freed herself from restraining hooks and eyes; Isidore Applebaum had discarded shoe-laces; and Abie Ashnewsky had bartered his only necktie for a yard of "shoe-string" licorice.
Miss Bailey was greatly disheartened by this reversion to the original type. She delivered daily lectures on nail-brushes, hair-ribbons, shoe polish, pins, buttons, elastic, and other means to grace. Her talks on soap and water became almost personal in tone, and her insistence on a close union between such garments as were meant to be united, led to a lively traffic in twisted and disreputable safety-pins. And yet the First-Reader Class, in all other branches of learning so receptive and responsive, made but halting and uncertain progress toward that state of virtue which is next to godliness.
Early in January came the report that "Gum Shoe[Pg 489] Tim" was on the war-path and might be expected at any time. Miss Bailey heard the tidings in calm ignorance until Miss Blake, who ruled over the adjoining kingdom, interpreted the warning. A license to teach in the public schools of New York is good for only one year. Its renewal depends upon the reports of the Principal in charge of the school and of the Associate Superintendent in whose district the school chances to be. After three such renewals the license becomes permanent, but Miss Bailey was, as a teacher, barely four months old. The Associate Superintendent for her vicinity was the Honorable Timothy O'Shea, known and dreaded as "Gum Shoe Tim," owing to his engaging way of creeping softly up back-stairs and appearing, all unheralded and unwelcome, upon the threshold of his intended victim.
This, Miss Blake explained, was in defiance of all the rules of etiquette governing such visits of inspection. The proper procedure had been that of Mr. O'Shea's predecessor, who had always given timely notice of his coming and a hint as to the subjects in which he intended to examine the children. Some days later he would amble from room to room, accompanied by the amiable Principal, and followed by the gratitude of smiling and unruffled teachers.
This kind old gentleman was now retired and had been succeeded by Mr. O'Shea, who, in addition to his unexpectedness, was adorned by an abominable temper, an overbearing manner, and a sense of cruel humor. He had almost finished his examinations at the nearest school where, during a brisk campaign of eight days, he had caused five dismissals, nine cases of nervous exhaustion, and an epidemic of hysteria.
Day by day nerves grew more tense, tempers more unsure, sleep and appetite more fugitive. Experienced[Pg 490] teachers went stolidly on with the ordinary routine, while beginners devoted time and energy to the more spectacular portions of the curriculum. But no one knew the Honorable Timothy's pet subjects, and so no one could specialize to any great extent.
Miss Bailey was one of the beginners, and Room 18 was made to shine as the sun. Morris Mogilewsky, Monitor of the Gold-Fish Bowl, wrought busily until his charges glowed redly against the water plants in their shining bowl. Creepers crept, plants grew, and ferns waved under the care of Nathan Spiderwitz, Monitor of the Window Boxes. There was such a martial swing and strut in Patrick Brennan's leadership of the line that it inflamed even the timid heart of Isidore Wishnewsky with a war-like glow and his feet with a spasmodic but well-meant tramp. Sadie Gonorowsky and Eva, her cousin, sat closely side by side, no longer "mad on theirselves," but "mit kind feelings." The work of the preceding term was laid in neat and docketed piles upon the low book-case. The children were enjoined to keep clean and entire. And Teacher, a nervous and unsmiling Teacher, waited dully.
A week passed thus, and then the good-hearted and experienced Miss Blake hurried ponderously across the hall to put Teacher on her guard.
"I've just had a note from one of the grammar teachers," she panted. "'Gum Shoe Tim' is up in Miss Green's room! He'll
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