The western Democrat. [volume] (Charlotte, N.C.) 1852-1870, 1856-11-04
TRIALS OF AN EDITOR.
BY KATE NEVILLE.


| That thing of less interest they never did
But, Sir Critic, reflect ere you make noise
That one mans meat is another mans poison
And lest you persist in your steady denials,
We'n give you a few of an editors trials.
First, pretty young lady, sprightly and
fair,
With the paper in hand waltzes up to chair,
And hastily glancing DER all she saw,
She throws it aside with muttered ''pshaw"
marriages here
/ think it is queer,
WlRn there's ever SO many,
They don't publish any.
Here's poetry, And battles;
Sketches, And sieges,
And tales, And law suits,
Without ending, Are pending.
But no pic MICS, or concerts, or parties for
me-
Such trash on paper never did see.
Then nice young man, with cane and
moustache,
Who certainly thinks he is cutting a dash,
Looks over the list of plays and soirees,
AS if vainly trying his fancy to please,
Circuses, And chases,
Operas, In banquets,
Balls, And calls;
And wonders what editors mean,
By printing paper not fit to be seen.
Sentimental young lady next picks up the
And reads by the light of dim-bu burning
taper:
And wonders if lines here addressed to Miss
Relic,
Were not written to her by some clever
young fellow,
Who's pretty and witty, and learned and
wise,
But she stops in alarm at the clark hazel
eyes,
What pity it is true,
And now, Mr. Editor,
'Tis all blamed on you.
What speeches, And lawing,
And sermons, And jawing,
Aud news, And clawing.
By despatch, To match,
But no sketches or tales can | see
What kind of man must the editor be
Next grave politician who with dignity
glows,
Adjusts his gold spectaclos over his nose,
Takes a hugh pinch of snnff before he pro-
ceedS,
Then opens the paper and leisurely reads,
Of breeches, Of Senate.
And speeches, Of House,
And foreign Of Railways,
Reports, And Courts,
And says, as he reads the last column of
What strange kind of people these editors
These rhymes and these love stories to print,
If 'twould do any good l would give them
Now prm old maid the paper espies,
And holding it carefully off from her eyes,
And frequently muttering la - and . du
tell !"
She manages some way to read very well,
The marriages, The robberies,
Accidents, And murders,
Suicides, All in
Deaths, Breath;
And finishing, wonders what sort of blum
der,
The whole of community is laboring under,
To support paper whose print Is so small,
She wonders how some people can read it at
all.
Next an angry contributor, eager for fame,
Rushes into the editor, and wildly exclaims;
Pm ruined, sir, ruined-my success, sir, is
DER,
So many mistakes we ne'er heard of before
Look here at this Sonnet Address to my
Lady,
You've made it GA bonnet and Dress for
Baby;''
Don't talk of my writing, and say it wes
You're an editor, sir, but no gentle--that's
fiat.
The farmer complains that his crops are
neglected,
While time is spent in guessing who'll be
elected,
The minister said it should be more sedate.
Aud not so much asted OH matters of state;
Aud thousands of other complaints are made
known
Which the editors la ok has to bear all alone;
But the worst of il is, they all join in say
ing
Such a paper as this he can print without
paying.
~ 1t is not what people cot, but what
they digest, that makes them strong. 1t is
not what they gain, but what they save,
that makes them rich. 1t is not what they
read, but what they remember, that makes
them learned. 1t is not what they profess,
but what they practice, that makes them
righteous. These are very plain and i'm
portant truths, too little needed by gluttons,
spendthrifts, bookworms, and hypoorites.
New INvENTIoN.-Young gentlemen,
given to promenading with ladies. now
wear tight strip of steel. stitched in the
out seam Of their pantaloons. from the
knee down. This prevents entirely the
excoriation of, the skin from the friction of
the ladies' hoops. Without such protec-
ton, walk of mile or two, arm in arm,
is sufficient to establish a raw ON the
masculine leg.