The true Democrat., 1856-01-22
TRIALS OF AN EDITOR.

BY KATE NEVILLE How often we think when reading the news, An editor could please if he choose But such paper as this why ell must agree That thing of less interest they never did sec but, Sir Critic reflect ere you make q noise on, Ihtt one mans meat is another mans poison, And. lest you persist ill your steady Gtnials, "c U give you few of an editors trials. First, pretty young lnJy. sprightly and fair, /" Itli taIer m hanI WaItzc. up to a chair, And hastily giuuciug oer .ll that she saw. Sne throws 1t aside with mutsered pshaw."
 N marriages here
 l think it Is queer
 hen there's ever S0 many,
 They don't publish any.
 Here's poetry, And battles, Sketches And seoes
 And tales -gud law suits Without ending. 4 pending: Bnt no pie ncs. or concerts, or parties for me, Such trash on paper l never did see. Then nice young man with . oane snd moustachc, Who certainly shinks he i. cutting dash, Looks ovor the list of plays and sorees, As if viIinly trying his fancy to please,
 Tn theaters, In races ClrcusSes And chases. Operas, In banouets, BaIs. And calls, And fnnlly wonders what editors mean By printing paper not fit to be seen. Sentimental young lady next picks up the paper, And by the ligh. of dim burning taper. And wonders if lines here addressed to Miss Bella Were not written to her by some clever young fellow, Who's pretty and witty, and learned and wse But she stops in alarm at the dark hazel eyes,"
 For hers are deep blue,
 What pity 'tis true;
 And now, Mr. Editor,
 '-Tis all blamed on you.
 What speeches. And having,
 Aud sermons And Jawing.
 And news. And claWing
 By dispatch; To match; But no sketches or tales that I can see What kind of a man must the editor be- Next grave politician who with dignity glows, Adjusts his gold spcctacles over his nose Takes huge pinch of snuff befors he proceeds, Then opens the paper and lcisurely reads
 Of brooches. Of Senate,
 And speeches., of House.
 Au4 foreign of railways, EePorts, And courts, Nnd says as he reads the last column of war. What strange kind of people these editors are, Thesc rhymes and these love stories to print II tvoULd % any good voald give them hint. Now 2 Prm old maid the paper sspies, And holding 1t carefully of from her eyes And frequently muttcring Ia" and ..du teIlr' She manages some way to read very well
 he marriages, 1hc robbcries,
 Accidents, And murders,
 Suicides. All in Deaths, 4 breath And finishing, wonders what sort of blunder IAe whole of the community is under, N support ! paper whose print Is small, She wonders how some people read it at all. Next. an angry con,ribu'or, eAser for fame TA ruined. ~ir tuiAuJ--my Succes~, sir. ], o'er, Sl nudlv E4i-.aky, were ne'cr heard ut before: l."os h.rc at this sonnet Addressed ,o my Lady, '" You've made it " 4 Bonnet and Dress for d Baby" Don't talk of my writing, and say it that You're an editor. sir. but gent-thats fiat. Tile farmer complains that his crops ire neglected hilo so much time is spent in guessing who'll be selected.
 The minister says it should be more scdae, And not much wasted on matters of State; And thousands f other complaint, made known, Which the editors back has to bear all alone; But the worst of t s, they all join in saying Nuth paper IS this he cun print without paying. TIE CosT.-Accordng to Paris corrsspon- dent of the National Intelligencer, the cost of l, l. -.7