The Sentimental Bloke

Horowhenua Chronicle, 27 July 1916, Page 2

The Sentimental Bloke

BAUD'S BOItEMIAA DATS. (liy 'M." in Sydney Sun). In the whole history oi Australian literature no book of verso Jias attained anything like the success of (J. J. .Donuis's Sentimental Bioko, which throe months after leaving the publisher's hands, liadi eclipsed the sales of every other Australian vefse publication. Those who knew Dennis intimately when he was a weekly newspaper man in Adelaide suspected strongly that he w«is a sentimental bloke; those who just knew him branded him cynic, especially the girl with the Christian name of Ruby, in whose autograph book ho scribbled:— Of all the gems in this wide world (No matter what their hue be) The one I iindi most beautiful Is certainly the emerald. Dennis wrote the Sentimental Woke in the bu-h at Toolnngi, Victoria. He always preferred country life, and his cwlkttt vorses were written at homo *t Laura, S.A., where his father was n hot.clkeeper—a hardy old hotelkeeper who never wrote a iino. of poetry in his life. Dennis hurried home from Adelaide. once in response to a wire stating that his father was nt dentil's door. teaching the hotel he askodi the first person lie met ''How's father?" "Righ t as lain,'' was the replv, "there he is at the top of the windmill." If Dennis had missed being » poet he would have been a first-claw tradesman. 1 have played many a good game oil a billiard table ho made. Ho also invented a contrivance to savo von reaching up to turn off the gas. You turned it off with your foot, or something. The first week of the limwhing of the Adelaide Gadfly, DeniiH, its editor, declared that as hinds were low he would save us money "by doing the signwriting, and he put in six solid days writing Gadfly oil large pieces of paper and sticking them in the office window, while the rest of the staff worked overtime to fill the fledging paper. A further point of liis versatility. In Laura, lie was chief comedian of an amateur Gilbert and Sullivan opera company, ploying the whole repertoire and acting as stage manager.

A "DIGNIFIED" EDITOR. IX'iiiiii uas not a dignified editor, although his pincnez and immaculate drees made the iate Fredi Booty an artist end Bohemian, remark, on seoing liini first, "I thought it would cost nie a (sovereign to speak to him, so passed hopelessly on my way." Booty was the man, who, in those days, could laugh over the fact that whilst wnlkl iug to the parklands to pass the night, he was repeatedly hailed with "the offer of "Cab, sir?"

The Sentimental Bloke's dignity might be gauged, from this incident. The Gadfly was a frivolous paper with a serious vein, and nil outlet for ninny real and imaginary grievances. Dennis one. lunch hour, instead of walking sedately down the stairs, slid dowi the banistej-s, landing at the feet of an excited old lad t y, who enquired breathlessly, "Can yon tell me where I can find the editor of the Gadfly?" With perfect gravity Dennis gave her a sweeping how, "Madam," ho replied, gallnntly. "J am the editor." A SONG OF DESPAIR, The business manager of the Gadfly was one Percy Bird, one of the best, and he worked) his hardest to keep tilings .shipshape, even to pawning hi* watch on behalf of the staff every Saturday morning, and redeeming it as early as possible the following week. The Gadfly printer on one occasion having threatened Dennis, during Bird's absence, that unless there was some money by three o'clock there would be no paper, there was nothing to do, but to sit down and. wait tho manager's return. Bird was friendly with a young lady at the local Tivoli, and as the anxious moments sped by our evil minds saw our only financial hope sadly neglecting his duties. With a tear in his eye, Dennis wrote Sing a song of sixpence. A pocket, full of hope. Four and twenty printer's bills Tn an envelope. When tlie bills were opened The staff began to cry: Wasn't that an awfnl thing, To set before the Fly. The editor was in his den, "Wishing hard for money, The sub. was in the other room Trying to be funny,. Tho singing tart was at the Tiv., As giddy as could be, When down swooped a Percy Bird. And took her out to tea. FAREWELL TO THE PRINTER. The printer was a fine chap and Ave had to owe him a lot of money beforo relations became really strained. At 3 o'clock he rang up for the money. "'What," he roared through the 'phono. "No money! iteli, dammit, what about some copy?" Later on, however, we really had to get another printer—a cheaper one, to whom we could start owing afresh, rhe first one foolishly insisted on getting his money regularly hencelorth, a fact

which brought from Dennis's pen the following ode:— Printers, importunate, Coase your vain cash demands, Bards all unfortunate, Scoff at such rash demands. Leave us to revel in Visions soraphical; Get to the devil in Grates typographical! Ay, let lis dwell upon Soulful reflections, Swearing like hoi I upon Author's corrections. Tempt not our muse from us, Lest we should curse her, or Risk not abuse from us, liow inky usurer. Soon we'll be quit of you, Who have grown fat on us, Then, ovYv bit of yon, Hence, to old Sat/anus; There was n little more of it. too personal for print. The bit about th.i printer having ''grown fat on us" was pootic license, and the "inky usurer" probably enjoyed the farewell address as much as anyone. Anyhow, when, after throe years, he attended tlio final meeting of the Gadfly, although he was chief debtor, lie permitted himself to be put into the chair where ho became neutral, saw the amount owing to him pass into nothingness, and cheerfully bought a drink for everyone after "the funeral. It was Dennis who described Henry Gainford, then at the height of liis notoriety as a tem iterance advocate, as an "artesian bore." 1 recollect our office boy (the one who woke up with the black eye) in conversation with his editor. "Have yon been to the post-offioeP" "No, sir; I haven't went yet." "Then went now." Beaumont Smith, who was one of the Gadfly staff, used the conversation in his play, "Seven Little Australians."