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Show Mr. John Maton a Spring Poet, and Here Are the Vertes to Prove It , THESES A ftN.C HEN 8 I nN T's HE tacts WTO WE itt N ) fWN (Xn LAttas cum. ; ry ( -v. vnfov the rttnxofiattA luK -ne. &cm His h33 "If yon are atlU conscious I will drag out another one." "Go ahead. Put rhe out of my misery. "Ws had a little girl In the company who was tsken 111 and ws were compelled to send her back to New York. Before she left shs asked me for a signed photograph, pho-tograph, and I embroidered thla on the back of It: ' "A little smile a witching hour; A little while and gone tte power; Queer le It not? this atrange fatality, Joys. paat. pains loot; ah. me! fair Natalie.' Na-talie.' . , "Your rhyme appears to have Jumped the track near the end of that spasm." "I'll tell you bow that happened. I was In the dining car when the Idea came to me. I wrote It with my left hand while the train waa going round a curve." "A southpaw poet Is a real novelty. Have you Anlshed your aad etoryr" t'Klnlshed? I'm just beginning to hit my sflde." "Run. mother I The Indiana are snow us." TVin't be ao hssty. Tou may not have another opportunity to hear my heart thro be. Try and keep awake now while I call the next wltaeaa. -Hera It la:. . -1 hang up- the 'phone and I alt alone Aa my child's voice dies away; But I want her to know that I younger grow Whenever I ring) her way. And all the 'phones, snd all the tones That coma with numberless lings Are empty sound, but the world spina WltlT'Vne joy that her .'Hello, boyr brines.' ' 1 .. "I wrots that with my ' right hand," added Mr.. Mason, proudly. "On the level, now; what do you think of that stuirr'. "Tour right hand appears to be meat reliable." I. A. FlTgQERALP. (Frcm the New York Hsrald.) Don't Wish to delay the Easter procession, proces-sion, but It cannot be helped. Mr. John - Mason, now stsning In "As. a Man Thinks" at the Thlrty-Blnth Street theatre., the-atre., has Just backed In with a load of nice, freaii aprtng poetry and bega permission per-mission to d.uisy his wares. Beg pardon, par-don, ws ssld poetry, not poultry-didn't poultry-didn't know be bad any vicious habits? Ob, well, none of us Is perfect. His msny admirers w-:ll be grieved to learn of this sad s miction, snd wlH wish him a speedy recovery, but some eey that the ease Is a hipeice one. , Vrhsps It would he aa wall lo suspend Judgment until the evidence le all In. Some of the actol'e sssoclstee have known that he eae suffering- trotn an Ingrowing In-growing iMtMMt fur a long lime, and they have tried to kKp the news from ths general pontic They attributed ths mslsdy to the irsrdships of the one-night stani end nguraU thst his return lo ciyl'lsstion eouid be followed by a licalllilor stale of mind. But Mr. Mason has ipMI il their plans by deciding to - t ike .hi i-ubilu into bis eonfliience. In Oilier words, ha pleads guilty 10 ths cine charged It. the Indictment. He not only admits his guilt, hut brags abmtt II 1- all friendly suggestions that he have Ms muss cut out he has turned a deal tar. Hs wouldn't sven cx ntent to Itsve It abbreviated. He Insists In-sists that he h ths erhampton catch as calch can and lireeo-Roman rhymstsr of th-i world, lit- Invites sn Inspection of his spring styka 4n sonnets and says It Is no trouble t show goods. "Is It true thai you write poetry?" wss the first 'lues lion put to him y ea terse ter-se V. "With both aanda." replied the actor without tho emu ancs of a blush. "Are you tski. g snything for It? "About a vua.t of ink every day. I have been Oti an ink dist for months.' "llsvs you Iwlicsd any Improvement Y "fib. yes. I csr. turn out twice as much aa I used to." ' Are you not ajLamed of your fall. n.gv Afflicted Early la Life. "Not any more. Eyer since my school days It has been a struggle to keep from btraklng into rnjnie. whenever I felt en ettwk iimng on I would lock myself my-self In a room and writs poetry until I as uncuitecio'ie. In this way I was ehle to keep mv horrible secret from all but a few friends, bui a few months ago 1 lost control of mv muss. -Its been running run-ning wi-d ever since. I realised It was In pfeslhls to Keep up my dtuih;e life any looser . and 1 uecWcd to make a , clean breuHt of it." ' vthst particular form does your mania taker' I ve nut the -whole wamut of crime. Like mt poets. I stsrted writing epi-e; ' but this did not isst long. It wss only ' a short step to poems about love snd na-turw. na-turw. From this point on my descent whs rapid until at ths present time 1 am et.epcd In limericks. It won't he very M:-g r.ow before I will be qusliflsd to write sonnets about underwear and potted beef. Then my bigtieat ambluoa wl I be rea'lsed." "Have you ever thought of the ftntsh?" ''Vs. but It hs. no terrors for me. I suppoe" thit I will 'end up by writing wrxgalne poetrv. Boms of mv friends have pointed ihls out to me, but I told them 1 ass too far sons to tarn beck now. I can swear that 1 never have had a poem printed In a magsxlne. 1 hevs kuhmltted some, but they were returned. Thev were not bad enough." "But who buys It from you?" . "Nobodv es yst. I csa truthfully say thst I have never taken a dollar for one of my poems. I can truthfully say wist I hsve never been offered a dollar for one of them. I'll even so further than that I l.avcn't been offered a penny." "Your ftandiiig as an amatsur poet appears unassailable." . , "Absolutely. Comma rcisllsre hss not corrupted my art. but I an not bigoted In tltat re.ect " . I "What de you do with It?' tiive It awsv when 1 can. "To our flieadaT" - Keturned by Mr. OoUlar. "Iianlll. rn not taking; any ehencee on losing them. I aent my Bret sffort to Willie Coilur. but he aent It bach." ' V last waa the trouble r , "He said he didn't have the heart to take it from me." "Tioes your present role afford yon any Irspltatlon T' . . "No. A man doesn't have to think to write poetry- II he did he wouldn't wrltt ft." "Have you got any loose evidence eon-coaled eon-coaled about your- "Enough to All the Sunday Herald." ' "Just a few samples will do." "Well, here's a pretty little thing, but before I sn ravel It It might be well for for you to know that It le founded on actual ac-tual fact. All my efforts are. Laet summer sum-mer I met Fred Warde, the tragedian, fur the first time In ten years. We looked each other over and agreed that we had weathered the storm pretty well, and then I asked him If he had any regrets. re-grets. He pa need a moment and said. Only one. Jerk. The.glrle grow prattler every day.' With no more plot than that to work on I excavated a poem out of my svstem. Here goea: "You may lire when row are reedy. OrldJey!" Mr. Mason blocked all efforts at escape and then with all the feeling that he usn nut In his remarkable voice dispossess sd the following. The meadows turn from green to gray, The sun shines colder. The girls grow prettier every day, And I grow older. Tel. tho' the sunshine may not stay. How oft rve told her. Her Image is as brisrht today; Thank Ood. I'm older. . Author! author, author?" "Not ao feet." aald the actor. "The worst Is yet to ooma. Caa you stand another an-other dose?" "Shoot if veu must this ok) red head, but spare the Herald subscribers." he aald. "I wasn't feeling a bit well early this season, end a long collection of one mailt stsnds didn't add to my general comfort," Mr. Mason explained. ''I had been looking forward to a trip horns for the Christ maa holidays, and - when Mr. Hhubert ordered the oompany to cease hostilities on December II for One week my fountain pen could not reel sasy until un-til It had perpetrated a few verses." "Hsve vou no mercy?" " "Don't despair. I will hurry the agony Hold rest! ' "" There's magic In ths word seventeen! Perhaps you don't know what I mean. Well, that's the day this witching hsll Gives me-a respite from Its spell And sends me on my way to you And Keith and Love and Life anew! . Oh. deer. I hope I'll laat that long Because I want to alng a sons.' " "That's great." -"Wait a minute. Not through yst Line still busy." "la there another ,oree?" ' "One more, but don't worry. TU take aa encore. Aad sow to resume: - 'A song of Praise, of Hope, of Joy, The blithe sons of a carefree boy Thst drives the clouds from out the sky And stare the tear within the eye. Oh. vee. there's msslo In that word. The sweet rjt number ever beard: Oh, dear. I hope I'll laat that long Because want te sing a soag.1 "Nice work. but why ware you as anxleue to sing s song? ' "I waa leaving Little Reck. Ark." "That expietna It. Why didn't res. say so In the nrst placeT |