The evening telegraph. [volume] (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1864-1918, 1869-10-06
N II w.xoR Kxs M 8.


Methinks l see him now. There he goes up
Centre street toward the Tombs. He is going to
learn the particulars of the latest police case.
Yesterday he interviewed Mr.. Corbin to-day he
confronted Mr.. Fisk; tomorrow he will beard
the Woman's Bureau He is paid from fifteen
to twenty dollars week for worming secrets
out of people and blazening them in the news
paper His cheek must know no blush, his
eyes no blenching His forehead must be
bronze. He must elevate lying into fine art.
He must tread on all his own fine feelings, if he
ever had any, as ruthlessly as on those of other
people. The last vestiges of bashfulness he
must trample down, until not the remotest
shadow of a remnant remains. He must enter
rooms without knocking at doors. He
must listen to conversations held under breath,
and repeat them in the local columns;
he must win condolences and violate them; he
must first charm and then chatter. He must
wait like lackey in the halls of the wealthy,
and come and come again until the master
chooses to see him and submit to the brazen
process of being interviewed. He must be
snubbed by officials small and great, and indi-
rectly bullied by the managing editor IL his
report is one fact shorter than that OF any other
newspaper. He must hold himself in readiness
to be called upon from the noon of one day to
the noon of another, and must be as completely
brilliant bridals, breakfasts, and balls, like
those he reports. He must accustom himself to
be stared at with as much imperturbability as
though he were the President or popular pr5nIG
donna without the dignity of the one or the
ecLdt of the other. He must bear the brunt of
echoing sentiments not his own from the neces-
sity of getting living, and when he has par
t9ulary pleased his chief he has the satisfaction
of being informed by the parties reported, that
eff that reporter ever shows himself
around here again, I'll skin HIM" This is
the ideal New York reporter Is he realized yet?
sThem Cabs.o
The sixth of October is here, but 'tl EN- cabs"
which were promised us are not. refer to the
Hansoms. At first, they were to have been here
on the first of July. Then they were expected
on the first of September. Finally, they were
anticipated-by people having a large prepon-
derance of hope-on the first of the present
month. At the present writing they are not
looked for at all. The project has sunk, never
TO be resuscitated again, until public confidence
is ''restored" in Jim Fisk. The Office may be
seen upon Wall street, within two blocks of the
ferry, where it occupies basement 1t is painted
with elaborate ornamentation, and remains a
sad monument to the fond credulity of
Gothamites. ! own to having shared in that
credulity myself. l confess to having encouraged
expectations-and, shall add, envy ?-in Phila-
delphians, which the result does not jnstify
acknowledge having sown, to some small eX-
tent the seeds of belief that New York was
advancing Hansom-c -cabwards That belief after
having been shaken to its CENTRE no longer
exists 'Them cabs" is myth, not manu-
facture.
Buving Editorial Columns.
There is fight between Mayor Oakley Hall
has o1-nn
his revenge upon the Sun for having spoken i'm
pertinently of him, by sending for publication
to the other morning newspapers, the copy of
receipt for sixty-two dollars, signed by the
SUMS cashier, for notice in the editorial
columns From dunning letter, too, which the
Times takes spiteful pleasure in republishing
and which was addressed last January by Mr.
England, the business manager OF the
Sun, to Oakley Hall, it seems that that news
paper was having its last penny sucked up 10y
that remorseess cormorant the press. II
must have felt very severely pinched when i
welded its editorial columns for the paltry sun
of sixty dollars. This is the way sensation
papers flourish. The quarrel is not perhaps
very dignied one for the Mayor of a great city
to be involved in, but then no one expects dig
nifty from Mayor who signs official document
with the fantastic monogram which originates
in the BRAIN OF Oakey Hail.
The ssIsnrOn'' de Riviere.
Apropos of this person, to whom in recen
letter had occasion to refer in connection wit
a Madlle Stie, who represents herself to hav
lost her heart and $7500 through him, have
little reminiscence to relate The newspaper
here seem strangely oblivious of him, althoug
it cannot be more than six or seven years az
since he figured here under the title of Count
It is ridiculously asserted that he was one
Lola Montez' friends and companions. Th
lady, however, persistently asserted that 81
never knew him, although she had heard OF hi
abroad. The Baron" or the "Count'-for tn
is one of those cases where you pays yol
money and you takes your choice-is oil
of the most gifted and SUGGEST
pursuers of adventure that the prese
age has produced. When he was last in th
city he was extremely handsome, and bo
the fascinating reputation of being a deN
among the women. He was made at home
some of the very best families, and his plausib
itv succeeded to that extent that certain Cour
IA qenl,ine Count and gentleman, in the true
sense of that word Iwhose name forget, but WI
is at present residing in Paris, and who was
that time editor and proprietor of lie Courier q
Etnts- This became his bosom friend AT tn
time Col John S. Du Sole was (as indeed
isnow) writing some of the most brilliant broa
sides that appeared in the editorial columns of t
Sl,day Times of this city. In the course of the
editorial philippics, the Colonels devastatl
pen encountered the reputation of the Count
Riyiere, and stabbed it through with holes IL