Bert Leston Taylor

Hew to the Line, let the
quips fall where they may.

APRILLY.

Harriet reports the first trustworthy sign of spring: friend husband on the back porch Sunday morning removing last year’s mud from his golf shoes.

Old Doc Oldfield of London prescribes dandelion leaves, eggs, lettuce, milk, and a few other things for people who would live long, and a Massachusetts centenarian offers, as her formula, “Don’t worry and don’t over-eat.” But we, whose mission is to enlighten the world, rather than to ornament it, are more influenced by the experiment of Herbert Spencer. Persuaded to a vegetarian diet, he stuck at it for six months. Then reading over what he had written during that time, he thrust the manuscript into the fire and ordered a large steak with fried potatoes and mushrooms.

[p 184]
“SPRING HAS COME…”

BYRON WROTE MOST OF THIS.
[From the Monticello Times.]

Julf Husman, who has been busy for the past several months, building a fine new house and barn, celebrated their completion with a barn dance Wednesday night. “The beauty and chivalry” of Wayne and adjoining townships attended, and did “chase the glowing hours with flying feet,” with as much enthusiasm and pleasure as did the guests “When Belgium’s capital had gathered then and bright the lamps shone over fair women and brave men.”

A CANNERY DANCE.
[From the Iowa City Press.]

“Fair women and brave men” circled hither and thither in the maze of the stately waltz and the festal two-step, and the dainty slippers kept graceful time with the strains of the exceptionally fine music of the hour. Lovely young women, with roses in their cheeks and their hair, caught the reflection of the radiant electric lights and the [p 185] />glory of the superb decorations, and their natural pulchritude was enhanced in impressiveness thereby. The “frou frou” of silks and satins; the enchanting orchestral offerings; the brilliant illuminations; the alluring decorations, and the intoxication of the dance made the event one of the most markedly successful in the history of the university.

FOR THE LAST DAY OF MARCH.

Don’t forget to set the time locks on your safes ahead an hour. Otherwise you’ll be all mixed up.

At Ye Olde Colonial Inn, according to the Aurora Beacon-News, a special “Table de Haute” dinner was served last Sunday. And the Gem restaurant in St. Louis tells the world: “Our famous steaks tripled our seating capacity.”

CHANCES, 2; ERRORS, 2.

Sir: While in the Hotel Dyckman I noted a sign recommending the 85c dinner in the “Elizabethian Room.” After a search I found the place, duly labeled “Elizabethean Room.” D.K.M.

[p 186]
Just what does the trade jargon mean, “Experience essential but not necessary”? We see it frequently in the advertising columns.

A variant of the form, “experience essential but not necessary,” is used by the Racine Times-Call, as follows:

“Wanted, secretary-treasurer for a local music corporation; must also have a knowledge of music, but not essential.”

As curious as the advertising form, “experience essential but not necessary,” is the form used by the Daily News: “Responsible for no debts contracted by no other than myself.”

The provincialism indicated by the title of the pop song, “Good bye, Broadway! Hello, France!” reminds us of the headline in a New York paper some years ago: “Halley’s Comet Rushing on New York.”

“The love, the worship of truth is the most essential thing in journalism,” says the editor of Le Matin. Or, as the ads read, “love of truth essential but not necessary.”

The Hopkinsville, Ky., News is a Negro paper, and its motto is: “Man is made of clay, and like [p 187] />a meerschaum pipe is more valuable when highly colored.”

From the letter of a colored gentleman of leisure, apropos of his wife’s suit for divorce: “P.S.: Also, honey, i hope while others have your company i may have your heart.” Here is a refrain for a sentimental song.

SMACK! SMACK!

Sir: May I suggest that the matrimonial bureau of the Academy take steps to introduce Miss Irene V. Smackem of Washington, D.C., and Mr. Kissinger of Fergus Falls, Minn.? They would make a perfect pair. Kaye.

MARCH.

If no one else cares, the compositor and proof reader will be interested to know that Ignacy Seczupakiewicz brought suit in Racine against Praxida Seczupakiewicz.

[p 188]
Referring to Beethoven’s anniversary, Ernest Newman remarks that “a truly civilized community would probably celebrate a centenary by prohibiting all performances of the master’s works for three or five years, so that the public’s deadening familiarity with them might wear off. That would be the greatest service it could do him.”

Newman, by the way, is a piano-player fan, contending that when the principles of beautiful tone production are understood, mechanical means will probably come nearer to perfection than the human hand. Mr. Arthur Whiting, considering the horseless pianoforte some time ago, was also enthusiastic. The h. p. is entirely self-possessed, and has even more platform imperturbability than the applauded virtuoso. “After a few introductory sounds, which have nothing to do with the music, and without relaxing the lines of its inscrutable face, the insensate artist proceeds to show its power. Its security puts all hand playing to shame; it never hesitates, it surmounts the highest difficulties without changing a clutch.”

Dixon’s Elks were entertained t’other evening by the Artists Trio, and the Telegraph observes that “one of the remarkable facts concerning this [p 189] />company is that while they are finished artists they nevertheless are delightful entertainers.”

We seldom listen to a canned-music machine, but when we do we realize the great educational value of the discs. They advise us (especially the records of singing comedians) what to avoid.

The prejudices against German music will deprive many gluttons for punishment of the opportunity to hear “Parsifal.” We remember one lady who was concerned because DalmorÉs stood for a long time with his back to the audience. “Why does he have to do that?” she asked her companion. “Because,” was the answer, “he shot the Holy Grail.”

At a concert in Elmira, N.Y., according to the Telegram, William Kincade sang “Tolstoi’s Good Bye.” Some one sings it every now and then.

Among the forty-six professors removed from the universities of Greece were, we understand, all those holding the chair of Greek. Another blow at the classics.

LITERATURE.

A great deal of very good writing has been done by invalids, but it is not likely that anybody [p 190] />ever produced a line worth remembering while suffering with a plain cold.

We were saying to our friend Dr. Empedocles that we kept our enthusiasms green by never taking anything very seriously. “That’s interesting,” said he: “I, too, have kept my enthusiasm fresh, and I have always taken everything seriously.” The two notions seemed irreconcilable, but we presently agreed that by having a great number and variety of enthusiasms one is not likely to ride any of them to death. We all know persons who wear out an enthusiasm by taking it as solemnly as they would a religious rite.

We were sure that the headline, “Mint at Chicago Greatly Needed, Houston Says,” would inspire more than one reader to remark that the mint is the least important part of the combination.

We are reminded of the experience of a friend who has a summer place in Connecticut. At church the pastor announced a fund for some war charity, and asked for contributions. Our friend sent in fifty dollars, and a few days later inquired of the pastor how much money had been raised, “Fifty-five dollars and seventy-five cents,” was [p 191] />the answer. The pastor had contributed five dollars.

SONG.
[In the manner of Laura Blackburn.]

Throwing self-interest to the winds, a Chicago sweetshop advertises: “That we may have a part in the effort to bring back normal conditions and reduce the high cost of living, our prices on chocolates and bon-bons are now one dollar and fifty cents per pound.”

Persons who are so o. f. as to like rhyme with their poetry may discover another reason for [p 192] />their preference in the following passage, which Edith Wyatt quotes from Oscar Wilde:

“Rime, that exquisite echo which in the Muse’s hollow hill creates and answers its own voice; rime, which in the hands of the real artist becomes not merely a material element of material beauty, but a spiritual element of thought and passion also, waking a new mood, it may be, or stirring a fresh train of ideas, or opening by mere sweetness and suggestion of sound some golden door at which the Imagination itself had knocked in vain; rime which can turn man’s utterance to the speech of gods”—

We promised Miss Wyatt that the next time we happened on the parody of Housman’s “Lad,” we would reprint it; and yesterday we stumbled on it. Voila!—

THE BELLS OF FROGNAL LANE.

We have been looking over “Forms Suggested for Telegraph Messages,” issued by the Western Union. While more humorous than perhaps was intended, they fall short of the forms suggested by Max Beerbohm, in “How Shall I Word It?” As for example:

LETTER IN ACKNOWLEDGEMENT OF WEDDING PRESENT.

Dear Lady Amblesham,

Who gives quickly, says the old proverb, gives twice. For this reason I have purposely delayed writing to you, lest I should appear to thank you more than once for the small, cheap, hideous present you sent me on the occasion of my recent wedding. Were you a poor woman, that little bowl of ill-imitated Dresden china would convict you of tastelessness merely; were you a blind woman, of nothing but an odious parsimony. As you have normal eyesight and more than normal wealth, your gift to me proclaims you at once a Philistine and a miser (or rather did so proclaim you until, less than ten seconds after I had unpacked it from its wrappings of tissue paper, I [p 194] />took it to the open window and had the satisfaction of seeing it shattered to atoms on the pavement). But stay! I perceive a flaw in my argument. Perhaps you were guided in your choice by a definite wish to insult me. I am sure, on reflection, that this is so. I shall not forget.

Yours, etc.
Cynthia Beaumarsh.

PS. My husband asks me to tell you to warn Lord Amblesham to keep out of his way or to assume some disguise so complete that he will not be recognized by him and horsewhipped.

PPS. I am sending copies of this letter to the principal London and provincial newspapers.

We hope that Max Beerbohm read far enough in Bergson to appreciate what Mr. Santayana says of that philosopher. He seems to feel, wrote G. S. (we quote from memory), that all systems of philosophy existed in order to pour into him, which is hardly true, and that all future systems would flow out of him, which is hardly necessary.

To a great number of people all reasoning and comment is superficial that is not expressed in the jargon of sociology and political economy. Expand a three-line paragraph in that manner and it becomes profound.

[p 195]
SING A SONG OF SPRINGTIME.

Mike Neckyoke drives a taxi in Rhinelander, Wis., and you have only one guess at what he used to drive.

From Philadelphia comes word of the nuptials of Mr. Tunis and Miss Fisch. Tunis, we leapingly conclude, is the masculine form!

We have the card of another chimney sweep, who is “sole agent for wind in chimneys and furnaces.” His name is MacDraft, which may be another nom de flume.

The anti-fat brigade may be intrigued to learn that Mr. George Squibb of Wareham, Eng., sought death in the sea at Swanage, but was unable to stay under the water because of his corpulence.

[p 196]
Not long ago a mule broke a leg by kicking a man in the head, and this week a horse broke a leg in the same way; in each case the man was not seriously injured. Is this merely luck, or is evolution modifying the human coco?

More building is the solution of the unemployment problem. The unemployed are never so occupied and contented as when watching the construction of a sky-scraper.

Her publishers having announced that Ellen Glasgow has “gone into leather,” Keith Preston explains that going into leather is “like receiving the accolade, taking the veil, or joining the American Academy of Arts and Letters.” And we suppose that when one goes into ooze leather, or is padded, one may be said to be fini.

A FEW MORE “BEST BAD LINES.”

A household hinter advises that “if the thin white curtains blow into the gas and catch fire sew small lead weights into the seams.” Before doing this, however, it would be wise to turn in an alarm.

The orchestra was playing too loud to suit the manager, so he complained to the leader. “The passage is written in forte,” said the latter. “Well, make it about thirty-five.”

SEIZE HIM, SCOUTS!

Sir: I submit for the consideration of the new school of journalism the following, recently perpetrated by an aspiring young journalist: “Information has been received that Mrs. Blank, [p 198] />who was spending a vacation of several weeks in Colorado, was killed in an automobile accident over long distance telephone by her husband.” Calcitrosus.

“THAT’S GOOD.”

Sir: A man and three girls were waiting for the bus. The driver slowed up long enough to call, “Full house!” “Three queens!” responded the waiting cit, and turned disgustedly away. X.T.C.

WHY BANK CLERKS ARE TIRED.

Sir: Voice over the telephone: “Please send me two check books.”

B.C.: “Large or small?”

V. o. t. t.: “Well, I don’t write such very large checks, but sometimes they amount to a hundred dollars.” Jane.

“Why not make room for daddy?” queries the editor of the Emporia Gazette, with a break in his voice. Daddy, we hardly need say, is the silently suffering member of the household who hasn’t a large closet all to himself, with rows of, shiny hooks on which to hang his duds.

Ah, yes, why not make room for daddy? It is impossible to contemplate daddy’s pathetic condition without bursting into tears. Votes for women? Huh! Hooks for men!

[p 199]
“NATION-WIDE.”