Weekly Calaveras chronicle. (Mokelumne Hill, Calaveras County, Cal.) 18??-1874, 1867-10-26
Visitors in a Printing Office.

During the absence of the boss,
yesterday we had visitors. A blooming
lass, her homespun, practical mother,
and that inevitable nuisance, the "tig
boy" (big boys, are humbugs, the
world over, a brother of the blue eyed
lass. The good lady informed US that
she was on tour of inspection, and
! wished Nam, mam,-O! Man,"
interrupted that awful boy, plucking at
the plaits of her dress behind. "What's
this yere FL gosh," pointing at a job
press, opening and closing its vertical
jaws with automatic regularity. The
matronly spectacles boa;nea on the
machinery for moment. 81 do not
know, my son-it seems like something
that don't know what it's dom; keeps
a comm, but backs agin as much as it
comes. | wonder in my heart if it AIM
the Tennessee Legislature ?" The blue
eyes looked brightly at the mother, and
then, on tiptoe, whispered in her ear
"fy trapr' "Mam, l gosh ! tell you
what, it minds me owe yoke of niggers
a watch EN- come together
thar dye see that suckin, squeeze ?
now watch 'em come apart-do you
hear that? l gosh he! he !"
"My son." aud the brute was fairly
looked into silence in an instant-those
spectacles had a wonderful focal power,
to be sure. The blue eyes were beam
ing on US. we knew they were, for we
felt as though our cheek was being
penciled with butterfy's wing, dipped
in otto of roses, while the dim echo of
long lost music whispered in our ear.
We felt very good indeed. We were
aroused by the good lady. well !!
well law me. children look back
yonder If thar amt wool cardin'
mershean, with fly brush to keep the
speck off the rolls; how nice !' We
explained to her that it was power
press, on which our paper was printed.
"Dear my soul, me! is it? Now
mister, do show me wharabouts in the
trick "a bob ideas are bred-nade I mean
to say" and she placed the turkey tail
fan before her nose. We could do no
better than to point to the linking ap-
paratus. "Well, we'll what is the
world comm to next? but, mister,
don't they look sorter muckey, tho
jist in their natural state ?"
We admitted they did, and thought
he term mucky might be applied to
many dim ideas in their finished state,
but we do not say so. "Mam, say nam,
ak him what them fellers are motionin'
at, over them sloping tables p We
answered, distributing type, sir" and
we pronounced sir, sharp enough to cut
the whelp's threat. "Oh, dod rot 'em
1 thought they were skeerin flies outen
them little boxes" The blue eyes fell
from ours to the floor like pair of
stricken humming birds. We fear that
we had been perhaps-well staring.
The old lady now bethought herself that
it was time to 60, so she led the way.
AS the big boy brought up the rear, we
discovered that he had been seated on
the form of horse bill, for across his
rear, on his white cotton pants, we read
in large letters, "Young Bulldogus-
this fine ami etc. We never said a
word, and felt in our heart that he was
most welcome to the ink. As the good
lady bowed herself out, she asked us
chow Mr.. WINS likes his honey?
Heavens now, when too late we have
learned that she is Mrs. Jarrold, that
the blue eyes belong to the bud of
promise and that walking proof sheet
of horse bill is Jonas, "the boy Of
genius" Now look out for a storm.
When Mrs. J sees that proof the
weather will change.