The Wheeling daily intelligencer. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1865-1903, 1868-09-29

Llon, however important, until ht
tiT.. MS sentence. If the cry O.
Flre! should resound through thC
pulIulng; greeley would finish his sen.
fence and ring his bell before he would
leave his room. The sentence com,
pete, he places the forehnger q
OF his right hand at the end Of the
word last written, seizes the handle
OF his pen in his teeth, and looks mis-
ltormentor full in the face. 1t is a
glance OF inquiry, and the questioner,
lntultively conscious of this fact, re-
Peats his Interrogation. Mr.. Greeley
divines the question before il is finish
ed, and answers 1t pithly and quickly.
me pen is then snatched from his
mouth, dexterously dipped into his
inkstand, and his fingers again travel
across his transverse sheet OF foolscap
iike "daddy-long legs" caught in a
Storm. II his QueAtioner is importu-
nate, and insists on wasting his time.
he continues his writing, never looking
up, and either answers absent-mindlV.
or in low, impatient tone, tinged with
peculiar boyish nervousness. II his
visitor Is ungentlemanly enough to still
continue his teasing opportunities, a
storm breaks forth, and the uucour-
t9ous person will trot out OF the
sancLum with an answer ringing in his
ears that should bring a flush 10 his
cheek. r9El7
10 Mr.. Greeley time is more valuable
than money or even friendship. When
busy, he is no respecter of persons.
President or hod-carrier, general or
boot-blRck, clergyman or express
driver, authoress or Rpple-woman-all
are treated alike. Eminent men have
left his room under the impression that
they had been deliberately slighted,
while Horace still slashed away at his
lnky pickets, totally unconscious of
any neglect.i zs.r
The popular impression of Mr.. Gree
ley's personal appearance seems to be
associated with a white hat and white
oyercoat, and with one leg of his pam
falcons hitched on the top of his boot
leg. This Is incorrect. He is clean in
his attire-never wears dirty shirt or
dirty collar, has a straw hat, u thin
black frock coat, white vest, and a
pair of black doeskin pants drawn
down over his boot.tops. Sometimes
he wears shoes, and he has been seen
with leggipgs. In muddy weather his
boots and pants may be covered with
dirt, but in pleasant days theyare clean
far above the average. The only mark
of slovenliness about him centers in
his black silk cravat, which will occa-
sionally have u light with his collar,
and slip out of sight. Sometimes the
necktie will hold its own with the coll
lar, but the knot win jump round to
the side OF his chin and give him re-
markable air of observation-disclosures.
The cause OF this irregnlarity is his
want of skill in using pins. They bend
and prick his neck until he IS glad to
drop them.
Mr.. Greeley is fivef feet ten and half
Inches in height, and well proportion
ed. He is fifty seven years old. He is
partly bald, has white (0ot gray) hair,
Il light complexion, small, sunken blue
- wall kht, ned
lar features. a white beard runs over
his throat and TANKS his chin, like tiny
cheUeGur de Jrise. His'hands are small,
and soft as tbOse of a woman. His
teeth are white and regular, and in
talking are always observable. His
hardly say that he walks. He shut
fles. The head makes a motion for
ward, the body follows IL, as IL swung
on a pair of hinges at the hips; the legs
Their move, and the feet straggle out as
II undecided whether to walk or keep
still. The fact of the business is, Hor-
ace never had time to learn TO walk.
BE weighs a man for what he is worth,
and not what he appears to be worth.
''"Mr. Greeley, my friend, Mr.. -,
who has called to pay his respects"
Down goes the forehnger on his man
uscript. The paper-holder quivering
on the edge of his desk drops on the
smiling face, a glance of his small blue
eyes, near his shrill treble voice roll of
a few pleasant words, and we descend
the stairs to the counting room, leaving
him to back away at blighting human
wrongs and follies in his own peculiar
manner.
Once again in the counting room. It
requires rare business ability and tact
to run the publishing department of
such concern as this. The disburse.
ments frequently reach $4,000 day,
and have exceeded 81, 100000 a year.
There is paper to buy, advertisements
are to be strewn over the country news.
reporters. compositors, clerks, wrapper
writers, pressmen, stereotypers, folders
and carriers are to be paid weekly, type
and presses are to be purchased, con-
tracts are to be made, and i've hum
dred business ramihcations to be close
ly watched. Sam. Sinclair Is the lever
which keeps all these things in perpet-
ual motion. We find hun in a little
box fenced of in one corner of the
counting room. BE has a shrewd blue
eye, quietly and pleasantly toned, long,
heavy, curling chestnut hair, and
handsome chestnut beard and
mousfache, which he never cuts.
He takes yonr measure on the
instant. He is careful and cir
cumspect. Tho slouched black hat
hides a head that understands its
business. He tears open note fIom
the foreman of the press room, inform
ing him that "the forms came down
late this morning, and portion OF the
mails WAS missed by this tardiness.'
A letter is written and sent to Mr..
Young, the managing editor, immedi-
ately This Sinclair is emphatically a
man of business. When printing pa
per is down he buys an immense stock;
when paper is up, paper manufacturers
get none OF the TT16une's money. When
business is dull and money is scarce,
Sinclair adyertises the Tribune exten-
sively through the country press, and
sows his posters, headed "Now Is the
time TO subscribe ~ throughout every
State in the Union. During the past
winter there was hardly post Office in
the United States but what was adorn-
ed with "A colored Tribune poster.
plenty the Tribune eats its way into the
affections OF the people on its own
merits without advertising. Mr.. Gree
lev writes the most of the Tribune
| ad yertisements, and especially those
ringing double-leaded introductions To
1.-THE Terms of the Tribune" appearing
on the editorial page. Such sentences
| of Freedom and humanityW opens an
advertising argument in Mr.. Greeley's
best vein. Sinclair is, and should be
/ the best posted newspaper publisher
| in America. He knows the newspaper
ropes. Entering the Office quarter o.
a century ago, a booE-keePer, cashier
and subscription clerk, at a salary o
nine dollars per week, he has ploddeG
his way through faithful industry ant
1nceasing vigilance to fortune. The
Il clerk Is now the largest stakeholder II
/ die Tribune, and his outside wealth