Arthur Dove is raising chickens,
He has put his paints away:
Tell me, Chronos, where the dickens
Are the Cubes of yesterday!
Dove was real, Dove was earnest,
But his efforts came to nix.
Bowing to decree the sternest,
He has gone to raising chicks.
There's a strong demand for broilers,
There's a call for chicken-pie;
Dove declined to paint pot-boilers,
So he put his brushes by.
Luck attend his every setting!
May his inspirations hatch!
And, whatever price he's getting,
May he market every batch.
* * *
"Perpetual reduction of my audience is my hobby," observes Mr. Yeats,
who aspires to be the Einstein of song. When only twelve disciples are
able to understand him, he will be content.
* * *
A scientific expedition will hunt for the missing link in Asia, and may
find it. But it will never be known whether the m. l. was capable of the
popular songs which one sees in the windows of music stores, or whether
it could have done something better.
* * *
The gadder contrib who uses the Gideon Bible to hold the shaving mirror
at the right angle is properly rebuked by sundry readers. As one of
them, M. B. C., says, he may make the Line, but he'll have a close shave
if he makes heaven.
* * *
We imagine the Gideon Bible is read more than may be supposed. Evening
in a small town must be desperately dull to many travelers. And there
are better love stories in the Bible than can be bought on the trains.
Some of our gadding contribs have so good a writing style that we feel
sure it must have been influenced by the Great Book.
* * *