Des Arc citizen., 1858-12-04
From the New 0rleuns Weekly Mirror. SAD DEATH OF AN OLD PRINTER

On Sunday night, November 2, 1858, MT. JAMES ANDERSON, one of the oldest printers in this city. met fearful and un- timely death in being run oyer by one of the Lafayette horse-cars, on, Baronne street, near Perdido. His injuries were of so severe nature that the poor old man expired almost immediately. "Old. Jim," as he was famiiarly called by all the printers, was generally regarded by them as scrl of fixed uptown institution, as much so as the City Hall, or the Pica- yune office itself, where he labored from it's start to the day of his death His pe- culiarities, not all of a winning or pre- possessing character, were therefore treat. ed by his juniors in the profession with all the kindly forbearance that genial man. hood or generous youth accords gray hairs sancti6ed by a long life of industry and integrity. It was therefore with feeling of profound sorrow that the intelligence of the old mans harsh and untimey fate was received by his numerous friends and acquain,ancrs in and out of the profession. Leaving the company of n friend on St. Charles street. about 0 o'clock on Sunday evening, the old man was on his home-i ward way, when he stumbled and fell upon the track, nearly opposite, the resi- dence of Dr. Hall, on Baronne street. The driver of the car, warned by persons who perceived his position, made every effort to pull up, buiin vain. The wheels passed over him dagonally, just above the Jeff groin, laceraling and crushing the in,eguments and inlestines, and then over the lower part of the right thigh, crushing that in a like terrible manner"
 Poor Jim! A native of Tennessee, he came to this city abou, the year 1886, joined the typographical corps of the Picayune, al that time delicate ban,ling, manfully battling for the public favor which has since been so generously showered upon it. Through Twenty-Five years of epidemics, of conhagra,ions and overfiows, he stuck to his business with the tenacily of purpose which was one of his most marked characteristics. Twenty two years! What world of remenis- cences the words conjure up in the mind of every thoughtful observer of the changes that time has wrought in this city since then. He saw St. Charles street, when 1t was almost wilderness, hardly dis. tinguishable from the surrounding swamps; he may have hunted ducks on Goose Pond, close by the presen. site of Poydras Market; he may have listened to the wrangling of legislators in the old State House, where now capacious warehouses, halls of education, and elegant private residences meet the eye. The old St. Charles Hotel then existed only in the brain of its energetic protector, and he saw the first gleam of its snowy columns in the sunlight, its subsequent destruction by fire, and reconstruction in more massive style; he witnessed the confagration of the old St. Charles Theatre, and heard the crash of the grand chandelier that tolled its own knell to all the city in its fall. He was doubtless present at the laying of the cornerstone of the City Hall, watched its slow and interrupted progress to its present graceful and artis- tic proportions, and afterwards saw Odd Fellows Hall arise from masses of shape less granite to vie with it in utility and beau,y; he hob-a-nobbed with heroes re- turning from the Mexican war, while the glow of new-won glory still maD,led on their cheeks; and was padded ina canoe to dinner or to work when the Sauye crevasse inundated our streets. How con- temptuously must the old man have re- garded the fussy enthusiasm of the young people who fancied that they too had seen wonderful sight in the diminu,ive break on the plantation of MT. John M. Bell, that got itself published as crevasse last spring. How he loved to deal out John. sonian blows on the luckless young wight who presumed in his hearing to know anything of New Orleans, past or pres ent. This had become so settled habi, of his that young and thoughtless members of the craft sometimes took advantage of 1t to irrllate the old war horse and put him on his mettle. The experiment was sell dom repeated; for Old Jim," was mas- ter of irony and sarcasm.
 Among the thousand notable events in the progress of the city which we have neither time nor space 10 record, and of which he was an intelligent and interested spectator, we must not pass in silence the elevation to the chief magistracy of this proud city of brother printer, who had worked beside him in the Picayune office and followed his hearse to mans last rest
 ing place on earth Mayor Stith, as a member of the New Orleans Topographic cal Union, No. l7, was foremost in the funeral cortege of his former fellow-work- man.
 We believe MT. Anderson was never married; by his death no ties of kindred were severed; but his blunt honest frank ness and answering faithfulness to the friendships he had formed. won hIm troops of friends, who sincerely mourned the ac- cident that cut off the few brief years tha, in the natural course of things would seem to have been allotted him on earth. He was between 50 and 60 years old. He was buried in the vault of the Typo. graphical Union in Greenwood Cemetery, and his funeral attended by a large num- Der of the members of that body. Aaa