3114 Vanamee An Episode THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES OF AN EPISODE RHYTHMIC SALUTATIONS BETWEEN FRIENDS. PHILIP WHITLOCK PRINTING AND BOOK-BINDING MIDDLETOWN, N. Y. AN EPISODE. ILLIAM VANAMEE, Esq., of Orange County, N. Y., while he and Father Belts, of Goshen, were visiting Virginia Beach, bethought him of the friends he had left at home. He naturally reverted, especially, to two who had been recently engaged with himself and Father Betts in a re- cent course of lectures before the St. Agnes Guild, formed in the Episcopal church, of which Rev. David Evans is Rector. In a letter to the Rector, which playfully took form in verse, he wishes that his absent co-lecturers, Evans and Marsh, were there too, helping them enjoy the repose, the conviv- iality, and association, in the balmy sea air of the Old Domin- ion. Rector Evans replied in kind. These rhyming epistles were wholly private; but the " Middletown Press," which lets nothing escape it, typed them in its columns. The mention of Marsh seemed to demand a response, which he gave. Then there was a call for Father Betts, with which, though ill, he briefly complied. Then others partook. As all these were printed in different issues of the newspa- per, it was thought it might be amusing to bring them to- gether. 'WILLIAM VANAMEE,, Esq. Counsellor at Law. ps VANAMEE'S LETTER TO RECTOR EVANS. & & AT VIRGINIA. BEACH. My meeting here with Father Belts Fills me with deep and keen regrets. That Evans, whom we love so well, Cannot our county's quota swell. Then could three lecturers in your course, By ocean's roar, trace to their source The truths that each one may have said Of poets living or long dead. Dear Marsh, alone, would absent be : But as we sip our evening tea We'd celebrate the splendid gifts With which he blesses and uplifts All those who, in his noble mind Their highest inspiration find : All those who come within the sphere Of his rare charm, his radiant cheer How pleasant thus, beside the sea, Betts, Evans, Marsh and Van-a-mee, (For, though I'm modest, here you see The emphasis must fall on ME). 904586 I do but dream ; for busy care Forbids that we our joys should share ; Sends me in March to watch the moon Cast silver track you'll see in June. Up North and Main and down again You traverse to and from your den, While Marsh up to your window throws His loving glance as past he goes. He told me once he does not care Whether that moment you are there. He takes the chance, and, there or not, He waves his hand toward the spot. 'Tis Evans only could inspire Such love as this, such sacred fire. 'Tis Marsh alone who could bestow From his rich store such generous glow. What's youth or age ? he's young as you In that which makes life's richest hue. And yet again, you're old as he In wisdom, love and charity. So, blend your ways ; these lines I send In hope that you may condescend To let your thoughts one moment bend On me, your true, your sincere fiiend, WILLIAM VANAMEE. March 4, 1901. To THE REV. DAVID EVANS. THe Rev. DAVID EVANS, Rector of Grace Church, Middleto-wn, N. Y. RECTOR EVANS' REPLY TO VANAMEE. If " meeting there with Father Betts Fills you with deep and keen regrets," That he who pens this feebler line Is doomed on Lenten fare to pine Afar, where northern blizzards blow, And lingers still belated snow, Nor can, alas ! beside you twain Meander by the southern main, On fair Virginia's beaches I vow my vitals are all torn, I look and long and mope and mourn, As long ago Earth's primal pair Cajoled by diabolic snare From Eden's happy glades, Or as where Babel rolls her stream, The sons of Judah vainly dream Of Zion's holy shades ; So here, where Wallkill's sluggish flood Churns up the palaeozoic mud, Confined alas ! in durance harsh, Methinks I'd die, were't not for Marsh. For he, philosopher and sage, Whose balanced soul no years can age, He resignation teaches. Blest with impregnable repose, Serenely up the heights he goes, Secure from every wind that blows ; No common cares, deponent saith Can e'er disturb his childlike faith. Scarce do the fleeting years impair His mental force and vigour rare, Abate his natural power or dim The lustre of the eyes of him. Time marks him not with envious tooth Nor dulls his charm of splendid youth, Octogenarian mighty, Who, like a stripling blithe and gay, Renews his strength from day to day, And makes the man he smiles upon, The better for his benison, Full of " elixir vitoe." So here we stay hie optimum And when, from southern climes ye come Back to your native halidome, You, to forensic triumphs, he Your providential vis-a-vis To ladle out his homily Close by the Erie screeching : Let Betts return with strength renewed With pristine energy endued, His sturdy frame compactly knit, His Irish fires all brightly lit, His speaking eyes twin lakes of wit, His mobile lips, in former vogue, Distilling rich Milesian brogue, To where a congregation leal Through Lenten hours devoutly kneel, This boon from Heaven beseeching. And as for thee, Vanamee dear, Come quick and make it summer here. DAVID EVANS. Middletown, March 8, 1901. To WILLIAM VANAMEE. LUTHER R. MARSH, RESPONSE OF MR. MARSH. To William Vanamei and Rector Evans: ,\ mazed I was, I must confess, ^ ^ To read your lines in last night's " Press. Astonished, more, was I to see That I was made the point " appui, I pull a veil down o'er my face, That none may there my blushes trace. Praise from " Sir Hubert " envied is, But yours is worth far more than his. I searched for orators the best ! Vanamee's " name led all the rest." His sounding voice, his cadenc'd speech, Bring grandest thoughts within our reach. Buries contention, law and strife, And rises to a higher life ; Leaves calf-bound volumes in their lair And finds relief in upper air. How woo the Muse 'mid labour spent On Blackstone, Plowden, Coke and Kent? 1 have it, for 'tis truly said Poets are always born, not made. And now, on old Virginia's soil, While haply resting from his toil, His pen, disdaining legal phrase, Regales us with poetic lays. Vent must there be for crowding thought : It comes in gracious verse, unsought. And now Beloved Rector dear, How shall I greet your words of cheer ? Scholar, Poet, Preacher, Sage, A genial friend for every age ! Who, breathing forth eternal truth, Suits it to age, to sex, to youth : Takes from Religion all its gloom And puts sweet worship in its room. This, sure I am, is the best way For pulpiteers to preach and pray. Were all of us, at Virgin's Beach, With Betts, of Goshen, there to teach Theolugy, by two sustained. And Law, by other two maintained, While reminiscences, galore, Passed merrily between us four. " Predestination " held at bay And all " aforesaids " kept away, Methinks the jolly hours would fly ; The " good time coming bye and bye " Would quite anticipate its date And be on hand as there we sate. Goshen, 1 think, would win the day And Erin's wit bestrew our way. " The harp that once through Tara's halls " Responded to the minstrel's calls Would make the nymphs who heard the strain, Dream that Apollo lived again. Now, of my partners I will ask, When next in sunshine shall we bask : Or, " When shall we four meet again, In thunder, lightning, or in rain?" With thanks unmeasured for your verse, I oft its measures will rehearse. I pray you plume your wings anew: Don't bashfully retire from view. Lay not aside each golden pen, But ply them still and now Amen ! 10 Benton Avenue, March 12th, 1901. A LADY CALLS FOR FATHER BETTS. Editors Press: Would that each issue of the " Press " Did add such touch to daily dress As Friday's number saw ; Such charm, such wit, suchyVw d' esrpit Contributed by savants three ; The one high in theology, The others high in law. What other callings could combine To make their friendship so divine, So well and happily ? Law and the prophets, one descants; Profits and Law, the two entrance ; What better could such state enhance Than art of poesy ? But, Brother " Press," 'twas not quite fair To furnish us a treat so rare And leave a lay still due. Complete, dear "Press," the lyric set, From one we long to hear, you bet. No trio this, but a quartet ; Pere Betts, it's up to you ! SARAH W. BULL. Stony Ford, N. Y. Dr. R. OGDEN DORELMUS. DR. R. OGDEN DOREMUS--NEW YORIVS CELEBRATED CHEMIST CHIMES IN WITH A SOLITAIRE. r March 19th, 1901. Tlie Union League Club, New York. t warms the " cockles of my heart " To read the lines of those apart Terrestrially yet one in thought, In harmony together brought. What brilliancy of wit and brain, Ye genial sages still retain ! MARSH, EVANS, BETTS and VANAMEE ! A quartet rare, and full of glee ! Long may you live to bless this sphere, To brighten life, and give good cheer. R. OGDEN DOREMUS. To HON. LUTHER R. MARSH, MIDDLETOWN, N. Y. TKe Rev. ROBERT H. CRAIG, Pastor of Presbyterian ChurcH, Amity, N. "Y. PASTOR ROBERT H. CRAIG'S HIGHLAND FLING. & & THREE poets, once upon a time, In happy mood began to rhyme, The Muses stood aghast a while, But quickly changed to radiant smile. Their theme was love, the love of MEN, Twas far beyond the Muses' ken. But as the poets waxed in song, And rhythmic numbers tripped along They caught the strains, the theme to view Unfolded fast and quickly grew Above the great Parnassus high, E'en Ovid's odes far to outvie. O, shade of Jonathan ! how cold Thy love for David seems when told, Compared with theirs, the loving three, Whose hearts beat one in sympathy. They longed to see each other's face, To meet, salute with fond embrace, To live in some sequestered spot, Where earth's ambitions enter not. To pass their few remaining days In fond affection's tenderest ways, They pine like doves in lonely state, And mourn disconsolate their fate. But one bright morn with hearts aflame, To David, Luther, William came Back to the scenes of former days, Enraptured by their thrilling lays . Nor cares he now for ocean shore, Virginia's beach or southern lore. The world soon heard with wondrous glee That men could love so faithfully, The story spread from shore to shore; The nations learnt to war no more. DeWet and Kitchener now came To love, revere each other's name; A conference of peace was sought, To heal the ills so lately wrought. Salisbury and DeWitte embrace, McKinley pats Fil'pino's face; Then Li Hung Chang, von Waldersee, For time to come will brothers be. The Teutons, Slavs and and lively Japs, The Franks, the Britons and the Lapps, Vie in each other's love to share. Blot out the past it's wear and tear. Alaska's boundary is set ; Loubet hauls in his fishing net ; From Argentine to Mexico All 'bide the doctrine of Monroe. The angels sang in heaven above, Peace reigned on earth, good will and love, The swords did plow the valley fair, The spears pruned off the briars there. The human race united stood, And all were owned of common blood ; The Earth, arrayed in Eden bloom, Proved the millennium had come. AMICUS. Amity, N. Y., March 19, 1901. The Rev. GHORGE C. BETTS, Rector St. James Church, Goshen, N. Y. FATHER BETTS, FROM A SICFL BED, OBLIGES SARAH BULL. & & TO "THE THREE." r OULD that I could control this brain, Or guide with skill my pen ; The one to write, the other fain To tell of three good men. Alas ! too feeble here I pine Beneath these weeping heavens, But cheered to know as friends of mine, Vanamee, Marsh and Evans. GEORGE C. BETTS. Goshen, April 5, 1901 &r & TO THE OTHERS. They tell me "it is up to you," that I "must strike the Lyre," Two lawyers and a Dominie have braved the critic's fire. But racked with pain and loss of sleep my poet-powers are nil. These only have escaped me, just to show I have the will, Oh! "Sally Bull" pray pity me: Dear "Amicus" forbear; I really cannot strike all liars, however much I'd care To show my earnest longing for the welfare of the race, By sending every liar to his own appointed place. G. C. B. MARSH'S ANSWER TO THE POET AMICUS. TT\EAR brother bard, I'm glad to find ^~* That you are so serene in mind, . And that a love 'twixt three strong men, Evokes this tribute from your pen. What would have happ'd had it occurred, (I cannot say, upon my word), Had the sweet bonds of triune loves Been twined around three feminine doves. 1 know your palpitating heart Would go pit-pat in every part ; Your loving nature sure would melt Within the limits of your belt. Glad was I, too, to learn from you, That all the people of every hue, Where'er they breathe, o'er all the earth, Have felt the touches of our mirth. From England, China, and Japan, From Siam to our Manhat/aH, Your muse tells us that heavenly peace Reigns now supreme; and ne'er will cease, From Rio Grande to Alaska, In Texas, Kansas, and Nebraska, E'en in the Indian Oklahoma, And thence across to ancient Roma. Aye, more than that ; our trifold love Has reached, you say, the stars above ; And even the celestial choirs Applaud us on their bloomin' lyres, But how, in name of common sense, Did you find out this news immense, And gather from bright angels high Such knowledge of the earth and sky ? And yet, dear bard, your gentle chaff Provokes a charitable laugh. Although with sly hyperbole You do exaggerate all you see. You peer through a distorting lens, Evolving pitchforks out of pens. You have a gift quite Hudibrastic Which makes all things appear fantastic, And gives a humorous twist and touch To all that comes within your clutch, Should you aspire e'er to apply, To be Reporter for the sky, Send your petition in to me; I'll have it signed by all the Three. Now then, good friend, and I will swear it.- Your verses do possess much merit. The rules will not permit our Set To be enlarged to a quintette ; Yet nice 'twould be to have a poet Who, o'er all worlds could quickly go it. But though you cannot join us three, Recording angel you shall be. You're just the fellow we desire. To keep our books; to light the fire; To sing our virtues in your rhymes. And publish them through all the climes. Rare 'tis indeed; look ere so long, To find the attributes of song United with such knowledge vast, Of all the present and the past. You shall report, in easy metre, Our doings, but with less Salt-petre ; Rein in your mother wit a bit; Be not so free in shedding it. When you report what's done within, Don't spread your thoughts so very thin ; Nor try to cover so much space. For fear that you may lose your place. Twere well, perhaps, in your next hymn. To seek some other pseudonym ; The one you have might raise a question, And start, with some, a queer suggestion ; FOR Put, interrogatively, thus The name you use "Am-I-(a)Cuss"? * Might well provoke responsive "Yes," As some might think, and some might guess, I give these hints with best intent ; Receive them, please, as they are meant, And should you call some time on me. We'll smoke the pipe of "Amity," Not for form's sake merely, I sign myself, sincerely, Yours, *Amicus LUTHER R. MARSH Middletown, March 30, 1901. AMICUS REPLIES TO MARSH. j& j& YOUR offer's a surprise to me. For, living in obscurity, To have preferment on one thrust Makes his poor girdle almost "bust." These favors are "so sudden" sir, To cause one rather to demur It's a perplexing thing to choose Which to accept and which refuse. Regretting that my nom de plume Has led you falsely to assume That 1 could so myself forget, E'en wish to enter your quartette. Still I feel bound to hold to it, Just as a plaything for your wit. Thanks, generous Marsh, 'tis office high To place "Reporters" in the sky, The one thing that I never knew Is how YOU got such work to do Vicegerent of the Universe To designate in language terse, A Deputy in heavenly things And clothe him with angelic wings, Empowering him the Books to keep That hold the records full and deep Of heaven above and earth below, Of saint and sinner, friend and foe. To be your poet, sir, the place I could not fill with proper grace, Nor keep your books, nor even try, Your "virtues" all to versify: For my rhyme though "Hudibrastic," Is not quite enough bombastic. It grieves me sore, then, to refuse Such honor high as you may choose To fling, so irate, at my head, For which the great alone are bred, A Bible keep within your "den" And see in it, like rural men, The store it holds of knowledge vast, About the future and the past. Thank you once more, benignant Sage ; But use your kindly patronage For some good soul in Middletown, Who scarce has space to turn him roun'. Leave me to qbam with nature free, 'Mid air and light and poesy. And should 1 need to join a "set," Or smoke the soothing calumet, I'll find them good enough for me 'Mong sylvan glades in Amity, Where fens miasmic ne'er are found; But health and happiness abound. Now having written all I meant, These lines may close the incident, No more to cause you "swear" or fuss, I sign myself, Yours, Amity, N. Y., April 6, 1901. AMICUS. MARSH SUMS UP. MY three companions, now I greet ye, And with much love I fondly meet ye. Who started this? "Twas you, Mon Ami, None other than my dear Vanamee. Who helped it on? 'Twas Rector Evans ! Responsible is he, by heavens. The illness of our Father Betts Fills me with many vain regrets. Had he been well, "the fur would fly;" But now, for him, we mourn and sigh. Thy feminine influence, dear Miss Bull, Filled up our measure to the full ; There's nothing perfect, sweet, and high, Till woman's finger's "in the pie.'' As for our noble friend, Doremus, Not to admire would ill beseem us. He comes from heights of chemic Art, And in our sport he takes a part. And now to thee, our classic critic, Whose verse, severe and analytic, Deals sneers of a poetic nature, (Thou! with a Latin nomenclature ) Who with a kind exaggeration, Sought to traduce our fond relation ; We stretch to thee a friendly hand Of every member of our band. You've called on me one of the set And smoked Red Jacket's calumet ; A relic which adorns my wall, And stuffed with "backer" when you call. When next you ask, "Am-I-(a)-Cuss?" I'll answer, with kind animus, "I'd like to fill ten omnibusses With just that kind of pleasant cusses!" So now, we finish our farrago, That back to rural haunts you may go, Bearing our love, Amicus Craig ! I trace you in your home of pleasure, At Amity, in peace and leisure, 'Mid peaches, poems, and with pen Ink-Slinging at the loves of men. Masculine love, A. Craig, my friend, Makes men as well as women bend. God limits love to no one section, But granted it, in all perfection, To every people, and each sex, Though it may vex you and perplex. > ? Our little episode here ends: A souvenir to all our friends. April 20, 1901. UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY Los Angeles This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. Form L9-17m-8,'55(B3339s4)444 UtY UNIVERSITY OF LOS ANGJELES UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY ., _ -Hi ii ii i AA 001229765 1 UCLA-Young Research Library PS3114 .V2556e yr L 009 613 358 2