The Yazoo Democrat., 1859-11-05
"MORE COPY.%

"MORE COPT.1
Once in August, wet and dreary sat this
writer, weak and weary, pondering DER a
memorandum book of items used before
(book of crawling head-notes, rather; items,
taking days to gather them in hot and sultry
weather, using up much time and leather)
pondered we those items DER. While we
conn'd them, slowly rocking, (through our
mind queer ideas fooking) came quick and
nervous knocking knocking at the sanctum
door, "Sure, thas must be Jinks," we
muttered-" Jinks, that's knocking at our
door; Jinks, the everlasting bore"
All, well do we remind US, in 5he walls
which then confined us, the "cxchanges"
lay behind us, and before US, and around US,
all scattered Ger the floor. Thought we,
"Jinks want to borrow some newspapers till
tomorrow, and twill be relief from sorrow
to get rid of Jinks, the bore, by opening
wide the door" Still the visitor KEPT
knoeking--knocking louder than before.
And the scattered piles Of papers cut some
rather curious capers, being lifted by the
breeze coming through another door; and
we wished (the wish was evil, for one deem
ed always eviD that Iinks was at the d-l,
to stay there evermore there TO find bis
level --Jinks, the nerve unstrung bore
Rracing up our patience frmer, then, with
out another murmur "Mr. Jinks," said we,
"your pardon, your forgiveness we implore
But the fact is we were reading of some
curious proceeding, and thus it was, unheed
ing your loud knocking before" Here we
opened wide the door. But phancy now
our pheelinks-for it wasn't Jinks, the
bore-Jinks nameless evermore
But the form that stood before us, caused
trembling to come Ger us, and mem'r ry
quickly bore us back again to days of yore
days when items" were plenty, and
wbere'er this writer went he picked up
items by the score. Twas the form of our
"devil,' in an attitude uncivil; and he
thrust his head within the open door, with
" The foreman's ont o copy strand says
he wants some more {" Yes, like Oliver
Twist, wanted "more T"
"Now, this "local had already walked
till nearly dead-he had sauntcred through
the city till his feet were very sore-walked
through the street called Dauphin, and the
by ways running off into the portions of the
city both public aud obscure had examined
store and cellar, and had questioned every
"fellerN whom we met, from door to door, i
anything was stirring-any accident occur
ring-not published heretofore; and hat
met with no success he would rather kinder
guess he felt little wicked at that ugly
little bore, with his message from the fore
man that he wanted something more"
"Now, it's time you were departing, yor
scamp." cried we, upstarting; "get yor
back into the oAice-ofice where you were
before; or the words that you have spokel
will get your bones all broken" (and W,
seized cudgel, oakeu, that was lying OIL
the foor) take your hands out of you
pockets, and leave the sanctum door; tel
the foreman there's no copy, you ugly littl
bore' Qouth our devil G send him more
And our devil, never sitting, still is fit
ting back and forth upon the landing JUS
outside our sanctum door. Tears adown hi
cheeks are streaming strange light from
his eyes is beaming- his voice is heard
still screaming, "Sir, the foreman want
some more " And our soul, pierced will
screaming is awakened from its dreaming
and has lost the peaceful feeling it had be
fore; for the fancy will come Ger US, tina
each readers face before US, bears the horri,
words-"wc want a little more 2" Word
on their foreheads glaring, "your funny
column needs a little more !"