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''Tells of Far East'' is an article written by [[Jeannette Gilder]] published in [[The Chicago Tribune]] on 14 august 1898.<br />
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The article incudes 2 poems by Arthur Conan Doyle : [[H.M.S. "Foudroyant"]] (1892) and [[A Hunting Morning]] (1898).<br />
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== Article ==<br />
[[File:the-chicago-tribune-1898-08-14-part3-p2-tells-of-far-east.jpg|thumb|250px|right|[[The Chicago Tribune]] (14 august 1898, section 3, p. 2)]]<br />
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''[Below is the Conan Doyle part of the article only]''<br />
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'''A. Conan. Doyle's Poems.'''<br />
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Those The know [[Arthur Conan Doyle|Dr. A. Conan Doyle]] only as a story writer, as the inventor of [[Sherlock Holmes]], will be surprised to know that he is also a writer of vigorous verse. I cannot with truth call him a poet, but in the "[[Songs of Action]]" which the Doubleday & McClure company have nearly ready for publication, there are some stirring lines after the manner but not of the matter of Kipling. Here is one addressed to her Majesty's naval advisers, who sold Nelson's old flagship, the Foudroyant, to the German government fur shameful thing to do — no wonder [[Arthur Conan Doyle|Dr. Doyle]]'s patriotism was outraged:<br />
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: Who says the Nation's purse is lean,<br />
: Who fears for claim or bond or debt,<br />
: When all the glories that have been<br />
: Are scheduled as a cash asset?<br />
: If times are bleak and trade is slack,<br />
: If coal and cotton fail at last,<br />
: We've something left to barter yet—<br />
: Our glorious past.<br />
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: There's many a crypt in which lies hid<br />
: The dust of statesman or of King;<br />
: There's Shakespeare's home to raise a bid,<br />
: And Milton's house its price would bring.<br />
: What for the sword that Cromwell drew?<br />
: What for Prince Edward's coat of mail?<br />
: What for our Saxon Alfred's tomb?<br />
: They're all for sale!<br />
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: And stone and marble may be sold<br />
: Which serve no present daily need;<br />
: There's Edward's Windsor, labelled old,<br />
: And Wolsey's palace, guaranteed.<br />
: St. Clement Danes and fifty fanes,<br />
: The Tower and the Temple grounds;<br />
: How much for these? Just price them, please,<br />
: In British pounds.<br />
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: You hucksters, have you still to learn<br />
: The things which money will not buy?<br />
: Can you not read that, cold and stern<br />
: As we may be, there still does lie<br />
: Deep in our hearts a hungry love<br />
: For what concerns our island story?<br />
: We sell our work — perchance our lives,<br />
: But not our glory.<br />
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: Go barter to the knacker's yard<br />
: The steed that has outlived its time!<br />
: Send hungry to the pauper ward<br />
: The man who served you in his prime!<br />
: But when you touch the Nation's store,<br />
: Be broad your mind and tight your grip.<br />
: Take heed! And bring us back once more<br />
: Our Nelson's ship.<br />
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: And if no mooring can be found<br />
: In all our harbours near or far,<br />
: Then tow the old three-decker round<br />
: To where the deep-sea soundings are;<br />
: There, with her pennon flying clear,<br />
: And with her ensign lashed peak high,<br />
: Sink her a thousand fathoms sheer.<br />
: There let her lie!<br />
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I am quite in sympathy with [[Arthur Conan Doyle|Dr. Doyle]]'s muse. It certainly was a strange thing for the British government to do.<br />
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'''"A Hunting Morning."'''<br />
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All of [[Arthur Conan Doyle|Dr. Doyle]]'s songs are not songs of patriotism. He sings of the chase and of the race, and, of course, has a golfing song. "A Hunting Morning" is a good example of the former: <br />
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: Put the saddle on the mare,<br />
: For the wet winds blow;<br />
: There's winter in the air,<br />
: And autumn all below.<br />
: For the red leaves are flying<br />
: And the red bracken dying,<br />
: And the red fox lying<br />
: Where the oziers grow.<br />
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: Put the bridle on the mare,<br />
: For my blood runs chill;<br />
: And my heart, it is there,<br />
: On the heather-tufted hill,<br />
: With the gray skies o'er us,<br />
: And the long-drawn chorus<br />
: Of a running pack before us<br />
: From the find to the kill.<br />
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: Then lead round the mare,<br />
: For it's time that we began,<br />
: And away with thought and care,<br />
: Save to live and be a man,<br />
: While the keen air is blowing,<br />
: And the huntsman holloing<br />
: And the black mare going<br />
: As the black mare can.<br />
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These are unquestionably songs of action and are not without spirit. I understand they have met with a flattering reception in England, where patriotism and love of sport are the two strongest passions.<br />
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Jeannette Gilder<br />
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