OCR Text |
Show Rippling' Rhymes By WALT MASON I fl:et OF CLAY. At times some safhtly writer has made a hit with me. pome sane and forceful flirhter again..: iniquity. Without With-out too much of preaching, great truth his books expound, the truths that should be reaching this weary world around. And every time I read him. I think. "His life's a pome! The aoul sick people need him. to brlnjj their sunshine home " And 1 assume he's living like those of whom he writes, no thought or longing fclvlns to lurid day., and nights. Then come some sickly scandal, some drama rank and coarse. In which that saintly vandal van-dal Is screeching for divorce. And( thus some actres winnia; Is shrined In all our hearts, she aeema remote from slnnln and all the sordid arts. The movlnK films unfold her In strictly moral shows, wherever we behold be-our be-our admiration growa We christen her "Our Llisle," and praise her till we're hoarse and then she knocks us dlzxy by asking a divorce A lot of us old wedges still look on weddlne rlnes und -olemn mrrlas: pledgee as being sacred things And now we find them tiring, these gifted arlrls and men: they had us once admiring, but never will again. (Copyright by Oeorire Matthew Adams ) |