Part 14 (2/2)

The Dictaphone Bard

[And here is a suggestion: Did you ever try dictating your stories or articles to the dictaphone for the first draft? I would be glad to have you come down and make the experiment.--From a shorthand reporter's circular letter.]

(As ”The Ballad of the Tempest” would have to issue from the dictaphone to the stenographer)

_Begin each line with a capital. Indent alternate lines. Double s.p.a.ce after each fourth line._

_We were crowded in the cabin comma Not a soul would dare to sleep dash comma It was midnight on the waters comma And a storm was on the deep period_

_Apostrophe Tis a fearful thing in capital Winter To be shattered by the blast comma And to hear the rattling trumpet Thunder colon quote capital Cut away the mast exclamation point close quote_

_So we shuddered there in silence comma dash For the stoutest held his breath comma While the hungry sea was roaring comma And the breakers talked with capital Death period_

_As thus we sat in darkness comma Each one busy with his prayers comma Quote We are lost exclamation point close quote the captain shouted comma As he staggered down the stairs period_

_But his little daughter whispered comma As she took his icy hand colon Quote Isn't capital G.o.d upon the ocean comma Just the same as on the land interrogation point close quote_

_Then we kissed the little maiden comma And we spake in better cheer comma And we anch.o.r.ed safe in harbor When the morn was s.h.i.+ning clear period_

The Comfort of Obscurity

INSPIRED BY READING MR. KIPLING'S POEMS AS PRINTED IN THE NEW YORK PAPERS

Though earnest and industrious, I still am unill.u.s.trious; No papers empty purses Printing verses Such as mine.

No lack of fame is chronicker Than that about my monicker; My verse is never cabled At a fabled Rate per line.

Still though the Halls Of Literature are closed To me a bard obscure I Have a consolation The Copyreaders crude and rough Can't monkey with my Humble stuff and change MY Punctuation.

Ballade of the Traffickers

Up goes the price of our bread-- Up goes the cost of our caking!

People must ever be fed; Bakers must ever be baking.

So, though our nerves may be quaking, Dumbly, in arrant despair, Pay we the crowd that is taking All that the traffic will bear.

Costly to sleep in a bed!

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