Anyone with the commercial instinct could call himself a Jazz poet. It may be proof of Mr. Vachel Lindsay's sincerity as a present-day idealist that he does not wish to be called a Jazz poet.
Tue Daten. Jazz.
The American poet is now in London arranging for the publication of his new book, "The Daniel Jazz and Other Poems," and recently he gave a private Jazz recital to a few of his British friends.
He began by rehearsing his audiet ice and piloting them safely over the Niagara of Jazz sounds. It was the story of Daniel in the lion's den, the second verse of which was sung with a touch of "Alexander's Rag-Time Band":
Daniel was the chief hired man of the land, Ho stirred up the jazz in the palace band.
and.
He whitewashed the cellar, He shovelled in the ce And Daniel kept praying—"Lord Save my Soul."
Then, the audience having been trained to roar like lions, Mr. Vachel Lindsay proceeded King Darius said to the lions "Bite Daniel, bite Daniel, bite him."
Thus roared the lions "We want Daniel, Daniel, Daniel, We venture to think Mr. Lindsay has here achieved a very fine, remarkable, piece of realism. Was ever a more human portrait of Darius sketched in so few words: "Bite Damel, bite Daniel, bite him!" Pages of minute description could have brought to- mind more idly the scene, the raya! character and sentiment on this historic occasion. And what a sense of intimacy! We feel that we know Darius as an old friend, as certainly we now know that the King was a baseball enthusiast. "Bite Daniel, bite Daniel," he cries,
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.