On the occasion of a recent Saturday visit to this model settlement I found scores of well-fed, happy-looking prosers and poets riding their bicycles up and down the village street or sitting in rows on the fence rails eagerly discussing the condition of the literary market and the business prospects1 for the coming year. In the large playground which lies to[Pg 317] the north of the village an exciting game of football was in progress between two picked elevens, one selected from the various “reminiscence-of-celebrities” gangs employed about the works, and the other made up from the day shift of “two-rhyme-to-the-quatrain” poets.
The Scotch2 dialect authors were seated on the piazza3 in front of their quarters, mending their shoes, washing their clothes, and preparing in other ways for the impending4 “Sawbath.” Mr. McClure tells me that they are very shy and suspicious, and refuse to mingle5 socially with the other hands. One of them, Dr. Bawbee MacFudd, was confined to his room with brain fever, the result of having been asked to spend something the last time he went out of the house.
Just beyond the barn devoted6 to the Scotchmen Mr. McClure showed me a building which he erected7 last spring and which is now used as a canning factory[Pg 318] and warehouse8 for the storage of perishable9 goods.
“You see,” said Mr. McClure, “we are doing a very large business here, and supplying not only my own magazine and newspaper syndicate with matter, but also various other publications, which I cannot name for obvious reasons, so it frequently happens that we find ourselves at the close of some holiday season with a number of poems, stories, or essays relating to that particular holiday left on our hands. These ‘perishable goods,’ as we call them in the trade, were formerly10 a total loss, but now we can and preserve them until the holiday comes round again.”
Mr. McClure directed my attention to the wooden shelves which encircled the main room of the building, and which contained long rows of neat tin cans and glass jars, hermetically sealed and appropriately labelled. In the Thanksgiving[Pg 319] department were to be found cans containing comic turkey dinners in prose and verse, “First Thanksgiving in America” stories of the old Plymouth Rock brand so popular in New England, serious verses designed for “Woman and Home” departments in provincial11 newspapers, and other seasonable goods. Some of these were marked with a red X, indicating, as Mr. McClure informed me, that they were of the patent adjustable12 brand, made popular throughout the country by his syndicate, and could be changed into Christmas goods by merely altering the name of the holiday.
We were still standing13 there, when one of the hands, who seemed to be working overtime14, appeared with a step-ladder, climbed up to one of the highest shelves, and brought down three dusty Washington’s Birthday jars, which he opened on the spot. Two were in good condition, but the third containing a[Pg 320] poem on “Our Uncrowned King,” was found to be in a bad state of preservation15 and emitted such a frightful16 odor that the workman hastily carried it outside the building, Mr. McClure and I following to see what was the matter with it. The poem was lifted out with a pair of pincers, and we saw in an instant that decay had started in the third verse, in which “Mount Vernon” was made to rhyme with “burning,” and had spread until the whole thing was ruined.
“I am very lucky to get off as easily as this,” said Mr. McClure, as he noted17 the name of the author of the defective18 rhyme, “because it sometimes happens that these jars containing rotten poetry explode and do a great deal of damage.
“These are our odd lots,” he explained, as we continued our tour of inspection19. “Here are a few cans of ‘Envois’ for use in the repair shops, and here are a lot of hitherto unpublished[Pg 321] portraits of people and pictures of houses and babies and all sorts of things that have been left over from our serials20, and will come in handy for the Grant memoirs21. Those pictures of the children of old Zachariah Corncob, who used to live next door to Lincoln, will do very well for Benjamin Franklin or Henry Clay in infancy22, and there is that house that Mr. and Mrs. Elizabeth Stuart Phelps Ward23 used to live in, left over from a lot of forty that I contracted for last year; that will look well as the house that would be occupied by Andrew Jackson if he were alive now and lived in Massachusetts. You see, I am reducing the literary business to a system, and my plan is to have nothing go to waste.”
“It seems to me, McClure,” I remarked, as we left the building, “that you have everything here but love poems; won’t they bear canning, too?”
“Certainly,” replied the great manufacturer, “but I have to put them all in cold storage, even during the winter months.”
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1 prospects | |
n.希望,前途(恒为复数) | |
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2 scotch | |
n.伤口,刻痕;苏格兰威士忌酒;v.粉碎,消灭,阻止;adj.苏格兰(人)的 | |
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3 piazza | |
n.广场;走廊 | |
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4 impending | |
a.imminent, about to come or happen | |
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5 mingle | |
vt.使混合,使相混;vi.混合起来;相交往 | |
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6 devoted | |
adj.忠诚的,忠实的,热心的,献身于...的 | |
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7 ERECTED | |
adj. 直立的,竖立的,笔直的 vt. 使 ... 直立,建立 | |
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8 warehouse | |
n.仓库;vt.存入仓库 | |
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9 perishable | |
adj.(尤指食物)易腐的,易坏的 | |
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10 formerly | |
adv.从前,以前 | |
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11 provincial | |
adj.省的,地方的;n.外省人,乡下人 | |
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12 adjustable | |
adj.可调整的,可校准的 | |
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13 standing | |
n.持续,地位;adj.永久的,不动的,直立的,不流动的 | |
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14 overtime | |
adj.超时的,加班的;adv.加班地 | |
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15 preservation | |
n.保护,维护,保存,保留,保持 | |
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16 frightful | |
adj.可怕的;讨厌的 | |
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17 noted | |
adj.著名的,知名的 | |
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18 defective | |
adj.有毛病的,有问题的,有瑕疵的 | |
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19 inspection | |
n.检查,审查,检阅 | |
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20 serials | |
n.连载小说,电视连续剧( serial的名词复数 ) | |
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21 memoirs | |
n.回忆录;回忆录传( mem,自oir的名词复数) | |
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22 infancy | |
n.婴儿期;幼年期;初期 | |
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23 ward | |
n.守卫,监护,病房,行政区,由监护人或法院保护的人(尤指儿童);vt.守护,躲开 | |
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