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Show JOHN HENRY IN LITERATURE dy HUGH McllUGII GEORGE Y. HOB ART "Ht'NNINQ 1I1H FINOintSTllltOHaU Till: KEI.-CUIABS I've got a friend In tho literary business. busi-ness. He writes books and wears hnlr enough to put tho Ilrothcrhood of Uar-bers Uar-bers on tho bum. When ho Isn't running a serial story through the magazines he's running lib fingers through the eel-grass on his topknot top-knot nud looking wise. I hato to knock n friend, but simply becnuso u guy Is n genius does ho have to rush around with u mop on his ko-ko, ko-ko, nnd butt Into a public building ctvery tlmo ho thinks In tho open nlr? My friend's namo Is Nowton With-erlnghnm With-erlnghnm Hurtubolso In print, but at homo thoy call him Dud for short. Hud's father says tho lad with tho literary bug ought to bo driving a cart In the direction of tho dump, but Dud only smiles and nsks mother to pass the Ash. A fish diet Is snld to bo the real cheese for the brain. I think If Hud would only cat a shark or n whale ho might bo ablo to writ something warm. I'm not knocking, rcmombcr; I'm only saying what I think. I hate n knocker. I used to go to school with Hud. Wlillo ho was Insldo licking up logarithms loga-rithms and beating Caesar's Commentaries Commen-taries to n pulp, I was always Ion '.n;; around the outside or tho Knowledge Fnntory, printing my iinmo on tho fenco with a Jackknlfe, nnd acting JiiBt lfko the village cut-up. Amid look nt the dlfforenco betweon us to-day! Hud can sit down and write n novel that will otand you up In tho corner, but when ho wants to got down-town ho has to touch tho old lady for the plco of n car ride. I never got beyond the Fifth Iloadcr, and I couldn't dig up n Latin word to savo my soul, so all I can do Is to squeezo Into u pool-room, bury my fnco In tho dope nnd crawl out u little later with a hatful of money. I tell you It's nil dead wrong to give tho llttlo old red schoolliouse the glassy grin. Thut's right. Anyway, I bumped Into Hud the othor evening nnd I led him to n trough. I coughed for a couple of throat teasers teas-ers nnd Hud warmed up with tho gnb. Ho was out to toll me how hard It Is to wrlto n novel, but I cut In on his circuit. ' "It's a cinch!" I says. "All a dub has to do Is to pound out n parcel of paragraphs, drag them down to the starter and let them get nwny In n bunch." I was ready to buy again, so Hud didn't contradict mo nd delay tho gumo. After I had filled his reservoir ho turns tho hot-air Into his pipes nud comes down tho lane with the assertion that I couldn't write a postal-card to a friend nnd finish right. I call thnt Ingratitude. To glvo mo a steer llko that nfter I mobllcd with him across tho Plazu and a' "A IIAl'KlfL OF MONET." telped him to six bowls of Anheusor illk! Well, thoro's no literary (Iff that can Ivo mo the elbow. Just to show Hud whnt a clover bruta I urn I wont homo and wrote a novel, The reason It's so good Is because I took my hunch from Hud. Kipling's ityle. It Isn't qulto as chesty ns "David Hiirum," but thoro's moro poetry In It. When Hud sees It hoil put up tho shutters nnd take to tho lumber enropa. Hero's the gag: THE HEAUT1FUL SNOW. (A study from llfo In n great, grei city.) Chapter I. Vy nm I valtlng horo alone Mlt all deso udder folks? Etob making luughtngs von you see Dot I am making chokos? Sam Uornard. Sorrowfully the suowfluksi sat upon tko (Idewallc. A tall, wide man moved thoughtfully down tho street In an opposite direction to thnt which he hnd come from. Suddenly, nnd sorowfully, withal, bo emulated tho snowflnkcs nnd sat upon sidewalk. While nt homo the wlfo wnltcd wearily. Chnptor II. Ho rubbered hard to seo tho stago, But only saw u lint; Next day ho heard tho play was bad, And ho was glad of that. Androw Mnck's Irish Melodies. The sea hnth many perils for thosa who go down in ships; but hath not the "OH, IT'S PERFECTLY LOVELY 1" sldownlk perils for thoso who go dowrj In slips? Esotorlc Sclenco leads one to sup 1)080 BO. Mennwhllo tho wlfo waited woarll) nt homo, nnd tho cook tapped tho beef stenk nervously with tho cotl shovel It was her night out. Chapter HI. "My mother was a lady," so Sho said, but Just tho same Sho ato boiled cabbage with a knira Except wliqn company came. DeWolf Hopper. Presently tho first section of tho tall, wido man pulled In on tho homo siding Tho Bccond section, consisting of j boot heel nnd sovornl portions of overcoat over-coat nnd trousers, remulned out on the sidewalk. "Oh, Hnrold!" tho wife exclaimed passionately, "how did you fall?" "When I hnvo fully recovered," hi snld, not unkindly, "I may donionstrnti for your benefit tho various convolu. lions through which I passod. At the present moment, however, an Illustration Illustra-tion of my method Is Impossible fot obvious reasons. Therefore, you must lot your Imagination feed your curiosity until finch time as I am better nblo to tlo myself in n bow knot for your Instruction In-struction nnd cdlflcntlon." Then ho Bworo fitfully, and yelled for tho nrnlca bottle, tho brute! Tho End. I showed tho novol to Clnra Jano nnd sho threw tho most ladylike fit you evei saw. "Oh, It's perfectly lovoly!" says she. Mo! to tho roll-top desk! Mo! wlth n fountain-pen In each hand nnd a hnnd-scwed novel hot off tho steam plpos every week. (CopyrlRht, by a. W. DllliiiKham Co.) |