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Updated: June 2, 2025
"It certainly does taste pretty fine to me!" admitted Horace Crapsey, who had in times gone by been so finicky about his eating that his folks had begun to wonder what was going to become of him yet who was now sitting there cross-legged like a Turk, wielding an ordinary knife and fork, and with his pannikin on his lap, actually doing without a napkin, and enjoying it in the bargain. Mr.
It was understood that soon after the forward movement was commenced, General Meade hesitated about crossing the stream, under a heavy fire, but General Grant peremptorily ordered him to move forward. This was alluded to in a letter sent to a Philadelphia newspaper by Mr. Edward Crapsey, a native of Cincinnati, who had been reputably connected with several leading journals.
REV. DR. CRAPSEY: "Now, I say this is the great law of religious variation, that in almost every instance, indeed, I think, in every single instance in history, all such movements begin with a single personality." ANSWER: The only way this question can be settled is by appealing to history.
There could be no more of resolute finality in this chill epilogue. There is the cold of a thousand years shuddering out of this scene, it is the passing, the last of this delicate and gifted poet, Adelaide Crapsey. If she has written more than her book prints, these must surely be of her best. She took the shape of that which she made so visible, so cold, so beautiful.
No one wants to give in to a commonplace world when the light that falls on it is lovelier than the place it falls on. If you cannot transpose the object, transport it, however simply, however ornately, then of what use is poetry? It is transport! Adelaide Crapsey was efficient in her knowledge of what poetry is, as she was certainly proficient as workman.
Barton's efforts to save his creed remind us of the Japanese proverb: "It is no use mending the lid, if the pot be broken." The most remarkable clerical effort thus far, which The Mangasarian- Crapsey Debate has called forth, is that of the Rev. E. V. Shayler, rector of Grace Episcopal Church of Oak Park. "In answer to your query, which I received, I beg to give the following statement.
Well, to complete the roster of the patrol we might coax Horace Herkimer Crapsey to cast in his lot with us!" The boy named Josh laughed uproariously at the suggestion, and his merriment was shared to some extent by the other two, Carl Oskamp and George Cooper. Felix shook his head at them disapprovingly. "Just go slow there, fellows," he told them.
"Oh, is there any chance of a terrible storm dropping down on us, do you think?" asked Horace Crapsey, looking troubled; for although none of the others knew it, the crash of the thunder and the play of lightning had struck terror to his soul ever since the time he had been knocked down, when a tree near his house was shattered by a bolt from the clouds.
And now I'm reminded. I have a luncheon appointment with him at twelve, and a lot of letters to dictate before I can keep it. Go down and do your wiring for Crapsey, and if we lose each other this afternoon, I'll meet you here at dinner this evening."
Here you have the intensity once more of Adelaide Crapsey. It haunts you like the something on the dark stairway as you pass, just as when, on the roadway in the dead of night, the twig grazing one's cheek would seem like the springing panther at one's throat. Dramatic vividness is certainly her chief distinction. No playfulness here, but a stout reckoning with austere beauty.
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