[HARRY L. MARRINER]
Harry Lee Marriner, newspaper poet, was born at Louisville, Kentucky, March 24, 1871, the son of a schoolman. He was educated by his father and in the public schools of his native city. He engaged in a dozen different businesses before he suddenly discovered that he could write, which discovery caused him to accept a position on the now defunct Chicago Dispatch, from which he went to The Evening Post, of Louisville, remaining with that paper for several years. In 1902 Mr. Marriner went to Texas and became assistant city editor of the Dallas News; and he has since filled practically all the editorial positions, being at the present time Sunday editor of both the Dallas News and the Galveston News, which are under the same management. In 1907 Mr. Marriner originated a feature consisting of a daily human interest poem, printed on the front page of his two papers. For some time he concealed his identity under the title of "The News Staff Poet," but in 1909 he discarded his cloak and came out into the sunlight of reality in order that his hundreds of admirers throughout the Southwest might be content. Mr. Marriner's "poetry" is rather homely verse based upon the everyday things and thoughts and experiences of everyday people. This verse has had a wonderful vogue in Texas and Oklahoma, and the surrounding States. Dealing with dogs and "kids," with sore toes and sentiment, with joys and griefs, dolls and ball gowns, country stores and city life, street cars and prairie schooners, mint-fringed creeks and bucking bronchos, it is a medley of everything human. The cream of his verse has been brought together in three charming little books: When You and I Were Kids (New York, 1909); Joyous Days (Dallas, 1910); and Mirthful Knights in Modern Days (Dallas, 1911). Mr. Marriner has written the lyrics for two musical comedies; and he has had short-stories in the periodicals.
Bibliography. Letters from Mr. Marriner to the Author; The Dallas News (December 2, 1911).
WHEN MOTHER CUTS HIS HAIR[66]
[From When You and I Were Kids (New York, 1909)]
How doth the mind of man go back to when he was a boy;
When feet were full of tan and dust, and life was full of joy;
But many a man looks back in fear, for in a time-worn chair,
He sees himself draped in a sheet, while Mother cuts his hair.
The scissors drag, and sniffles rise when ears lop in the way,
And on the porch rain locks of hair like tufts of prairie hay,
'Til in the glass a little boy, his anguish scarcely hid,
Looks on himself and views with pain the job that Mother did.
The mule may shed in summertime the felt that Nature grew,
The rabbit may lose bits of fur, and look like blazes, too;
But neither bears that patchwork look, that war map of despair,
That zigzags on the small boy's head when Mother cuts his hair.
SIR GUMSHOO[67]