Both  have  found  exquisite  blossoms  of  art  in  the  sector
of  life  most  removed  from  the  concert  room  and  the
boudoir,  and  their  harvest  has  the  vigour,  the  resolute
life,  the  stimulating  quality,  the  indelible  impress  of
daredevil,  care-free,  do-as-you-please  lives  of  the  pic
turesque  men  and  women  who  defy  convention. — From
Keith's  Press  Agent.
MUCH  have  I  travell'd  in  the  realms  of
jazz,

And  many  goodly  arms  and  shoulders  seen
Quiver  and  quake — if  you  know  what  I  mean;
I've  seen  a  lot,  as  everybody  has.
Some  plaudits  got,  while  others  got  the  razz.
But  when  I  saw  Bee  Palmer,  shimmy  queen,
I   shook — in  sympathy — my  troubled  bean,
And  said,  "This  is  the  utter  razmataz."
41


Something  Else  Again

Then  felt  I  like  some  patient  with  a  pain
When  a  new  surgeon  swims  into  his  ken,
Or    like    stout    Brodie,    when,    with    reeling

brain,

He  jumped  into  the  river.     There  and  then
I  subwayed  up  and  took  the  morning  train
To  Norwalk,  Naugatuck,  and  Darien.
To  a  Vers  Librist

OH  bard,"  I  said,  "your  verse  is  free;
The  shackles  that  encumber  me,
The  fetters  that  are  my  obsession,
Are  never  gyves  to  your  expression.
''The  fear  of  falsities  in  rhyme,
In  metre,  quantity,  or  time,
Is  never  yours;  you  sing  along
Your  unpremeditated  song."


"Correct,"   the  young  vers   librist   said.
''Whatever   pops  into  my  head
I   write,   and  have  but   one   small   fetter
I   start  each  line  with  a  capital  letter.
"But  rhyme  and  metre — Ishkebibble  ! —
Are  actually  negligible.
I  go  ahead,  like  all  my  school,
Without  a  single  silly  rule."


Of  rhyme  I  am  so  reverential
He  made  me   feel   inconsequential.
I  shed  some  strongly  saline  tears
For   bards   I    loved   in   younger   years.
