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Familiar Faces   By: (1874-1936)

Familiar Faces by Harry Graham

First Page:

FAMILIAR FACES

By the Same Author

MISREPRESENTATIVE MEN

MORE MISREPRESENTATIVE MEN

MISREPRESENTATIVE WOMEN

[Illustration: The Man Who Knows It All]

FAMILIAR FACES

BY

HARRY GRAHAM

Author of "Ruthless Rhymes for Heartless Homes," "Misrepresentative Men," "Misrepresentative Women," etc., etc.

ILLUSTRATED BY TOM HALL

[Illustration]

NEW YORK DUFFIELD & COMPANY 1907

COPYRIGHT, 1907, BY DUFFIELD & COMPANY

Published August, 1907

THE PREMIER PRESS, NEW YORK.

CONTENTS

PAGE

THE CRY OF THE PUBLISHER 7

THE CRY OF THE AUTHOR 9

THE FUMBLER 11

THE BARITONE 15

THE ACTOR MANAGER 20

THE GILDED YOUTH 25

THE GOURMAND 29

THE DENTIST 36

THE MAN WHO KNOWS 38

THE FADDIST 44

THE COLONEL 47

THE WAITER 50

THE POLICEMAN 54

THE MUSIC HALL COMEDIAN 58

THE CONVERSATIONAL REFORMER 63

KING LEOPOLD 67

"BART'S" CLUB 71

THE REVIEWER 74

L'ENVOI 77

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

THE MAN WHO KNOWS IT ALL Frontispiece

THE BARITONE Facing Page 16

THE ACTOR MANAGER " " 22

THE GILDED YOUTH " " 28

THE FADDIST " " 44

THE COMEDIAN " " 58

KING LEOPOLD " " 68

THE REVIEWER " " 74

THE CRY OF THE PUBLISHER

O my Author, do you hear the Autumn calling? Does its message fail to reach you in your den, Where the ink that once so sluggishly was crawling Courses swiftly through your stylographic pen? 'Tis the season when the editor grows active, When the office boy looks longingly to you. Won't you give him something novel and attractive To review?

Never mind if you are frivolous or solemn, If you only can be striking and unique, The reviewers will concede you half a column In their literary journals, any week. And 'twill always be your publisher's ambition To provide for the demand that you create, And dispose of a gigantic first edition, While you wait.

O my Author, can't you pull yourself together, Try to expiate the failures of the past, And just ask yourself dispassionately whether You can't give us something better than your last? If you really if you truly are a poet, As you fancy pray forgive my being terse Don't you think you might occasionally show it In your verse?

THE CRY OF THE AUTHOR

O my Publisher, how dreadfully you bore me! Of your censure I am frankly growing tired. With your diatribes eternally before me, How on earth can I expect to feel inspired? You are orderly, no doubt, and systematic, In that office where recumbent you recline; You would modify your methods in an attic Such as mine.

If you lived a sort of hand to mouth existence (Where the mouth found less employment than the hand); If your rhymes would lend your humour no assistance, And your wit assumed a form that never scann'd; If you sat and waited vainly at your table While Calliope declined to give her cues, You would realise how very far from stable Was the Mews !

You would find it quite impossible to labour With the patient perseverance of a drone, While some tactless but enthusiastic neighbour Played a cake walk on a wheezy gramophone, While your peace was so disturbed by constant clatter, That at length you grew accustomed nay, resigned, To the never ending victory of Matter Over Mind... Continue reading book >>




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