From the Rock Island Argus, September 16, 1912.
By Duncan M. Smith.
Writing pieces for the paper,
Mostly foolishness and vapor;
Sometimes reason may slip in,
Nor is that a deadly sin,
But it is a sad mistake
That a writer should not make,
Lest the reader go to sleep
Or declare it is too deep
And the paper fling aside,
Going forth to take a ride.
Writing for the public print,
Gossip, story, beauty hint—
Anything to fill the space
That a streak of blues will chase;
Anything that’s light and not
Clogged with too involved a plot;
Anything that’s not designed
To make labor for the mind
Or to air high sounding views,
Lest the reader take a snooze.
Writing for the public mart,
For the eye and for the heart,
Something simple, straight and plain
That will rest the reader’s brain
And will put him in the mood
For the predigested food
That adorns the printed page
In this restless, rushing age;
That will feed him something light
Ere he goes to sleep at night.
For we do not read to learn—
We have knowledge, yes, to burn—
But we read to be amused
And to hear our foes abused.
There is work enough, indeed,
Where we toil at breakneck speed.
So when we sit down at night
With a paper and a light
Nothing we are after then
That will make us work again.