The daily Gate City. [volume] (Keokuk, Iowa) 1855-1916, 1867-09-05

" 49, 80 $50 =

ypQH
We cossidsr sAe istlcxiae ) sarissly ssIeeal
itsa 49, issA lsAdse 49, - rs
prypatssiu1 81 w1ieA ~ S11SSl 40 "a
persstute6 satacs; xkoStSt u n " m
eonpsll&d = d. ~ sls 49, ~ s;ss;ss. Il
viii b appreciated hy T" poor Locsls " and
the litStssy psbiic fGGfsr1nS. sssssa sszsa
Once in August, VI - drsary, ut this
writer, veal and weary, o. 4 ! 10 iosaidum
book Of items used bsiers- book of sosaul.
ing hsad notes, Rathse.-ieems, tahine dssp g
gather them in hot md splttt veAt6sr f6sine
up much time and lsaahsrh poadeesd -
these itsms o Or. While ~ coausd den.
slowly rocking (throush ON mind queer dsas
Hocktns), came quick and nesvons knock
ing knocking y t4e sanctum door. Sun
thst nuat Be Jinks,n We mutterad --H Jiuhs.
lasting bore Fst
Ahswsll do We remin us in the walls which
then confined us, the " exchanses'' lay be-
hind as, and before us, and around us, III
Ger the foor. Thinks We, Jinks wants to
borrow some newspaper till to- morrow, and
twill DC relief from sorrow, TO get rid Of
links, the bore, BY opening wide the door. |"
still the visitor kept knocking knocking
louder than before.
And the scattered piles Of papers cut GONE
rather curious capers, being lifted By the
breeze coming through another door; and
vs~ished 1.-THE wish was evil, tor one deemed
aasays civiil, that Jinks was n the al, 10
stay there ever more; thereto find his level
links, the nerve>unstringing bore.
Bracing up our PATIENCE further, then,
without any mnrmer: "Mr. Jinks, your par.
don, your forgiveness we implore Bat, the
10 Wa ~ aro ,f
ceeding, and thus it was, unheeding your
loud knocking there before here We
opened wide the door. But phancy, now,
our pheelinks-for it wasn't links, the bore
links, nameless evsrmore.
But the form that stood before US, caused
trembling to come o er us, and memory bore
Us back again to days Of yore; days when
'items' we're plenty, and where er this VII.
ter went he picked up interesting items BY
the score. 'Twas the form Of our .sdevil,h
in an attituto uncivil; and he thrust his head
within the door, with 1.-THE foreman s out o.
copy, sirl-and says he wants some morel'
Yes, like Alexander, wanted "more."
Now this "locai' had already walked about
till nearly dead-he had sauntered through
the city till his feet were very sore-wslked
through the street called nauphin, and the
byways running off into the portions of the
city both public and obscure; had examined
both store and celer. and had questioned
every sfeller" whom he met. from door 70
door. If anything was stirring-any accident
occurring-not published heretofore-and
met with no success; he would rather kinder
guess be felt little wicked at that ugly bore,
with his message from the foreman, that he
wanted something more
Now, It's time you were departing, you
scampln cried we, upstarting; nget you back
into The otfics- Office where you we're before
or the words which you have spoken will
get your bones all broken, land we seized
cudgel, oaken, that was lying on the floor. J
Take your hands out of your pockets, and
leave the sanctum door; tell the foreman
there is no more copy, you ugly little borel''
Quoth the devil, 'sSend him mere
And our devil, never sitting, still is fitting,
still is fitting, back and forth upon the land
ing just outside the sanctum door, Tears
adown his cheeks are streaming-strange
light from his eyes is beaming voice is
heard, still screaming, ''Sir, the foreman
wants some more' And our soul, pierced
with that screaming, is awakened from its
dreaming, and has lost the peaceful feeling it
had before: for here the ''poick's" feelings
overcame him, and exclaiming s'neverm ore''
he ended bis miserable career by swallowing
the shooting stick