[Kit Morley in the New York Evening Post.]
"_The Chicago Tribune owns forests of pulp wood._"
--Full-page advt.
I think that I shall never see
Aught lovely as a pulpwood tree.
A tree that grows through sunny noons
To furnish sporting page cartoons.
A tree whose fibre and whose pith
Will soon be Gumps by Sidney Smith,
And make to smile and eke _ha ha!_ go
The genial people of Chicago.
A tree whose grace, toward heaven rising,
Men macerate for advertising--
A tree that lifts her arms and laughs
To be made into paragraphs....
How enviable is that tree
That's growing pulp for B. L. T.
* * *
"Remake the World" is a large order--too large for statesmen. Two lovers
underneath the Bough may remake the world, remold it nearer to the
heart's desire--or come as near to it as possible; but not a gathering
of political graybeards. For better or worse the world is made; all we
can do is modify it here and there.
* * *