IT is a pleasant thing to find a man of cultivated mind, whose spiel is tinged with sparkling wit, whose every comment makes a hit. It is a luxury to meet a delegate upon the street, who springs a subject not so old as to be spotted green with mold. Your grateful eye upon him beams—for one grows tired of whiskered themes, of hearing people say their say on ancient topics, day by day. When I go down the thoroughfare, to get some goose grease for my hair, I see my friends toward me walk, when they are distant half a block. "Now, here comes Jinks," I sadly sigh, "and he will talk of prices high, and give the government rebuke for being such a beastly fluke. And here comes Ebenezer Dorr, who'll rant away about the war; and here comes J. Leander Bain, with woman suffrage on his brain." I know just what they all will say—I hear them say it every day. I'd gladly dodge them if I could, and climb an elm tree made of wood. How pleasant 'tis, my friends, to view the man who talks of something new! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A BALLAD OF HELL by JOHN DAVIDSON THAT SUCH HAVE DIED by EMILY DICKINSON THE SHEPHERD OF KING ADMETUS by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL AN HORATIAN ODE UPON CROMWELL'S RETURN FROM IRELAND by ANDREW MARVELL DISILLUSIONMENT OF TEN O'CLOCK by WALLACE STEVENS COMEDY by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH CHILDREN OF LIGHT by BERNARD BARTON VERSES ON SEEING IN AN ALBUM A SKETCH OF AN OLD GATEWAY by BERNARD BARTON |