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Show Trials of Literature. The stone age poet, mallet and chisel in hand, was laboriously composing com-posing a sonnet, when the business agent of the- stonecutters' union happened along. "Let's see your working card, old man," said the agent briskly. "Forsooth!" haughtily exclaimed the litterateur; "why, I'm. a poet not a mechanic." "Well, you have no poetic license to ' run an open shop," snapped the union man, "so if you don't want your poetry boycotted, you'd better stick to the thinking part of the game and hire a union amanuensis!" Illustrated Illus-trated Sunday Magazine. |