Belmont chronicle. [volume] (St. Clairsville, Ohio) 1855-1973, 1870-07-07

later, and so l might as well begin.
read one of them paragraphs over agaiI
so as to be certain, and then I burned
my house down and started. / hav'
crippled several people, and have go
one fellow up a tree, where l can ge
him if l want him. But thought
would call in here as passed along ,anC
make the thing perfectly certain; anG
it is certain, and / tell you it is lucky FOL
the chap that is in the tree. should
have killed him, sure, as | went back
a great load off my mind. My reason
has stood the strain of one of your agri.
cultural articles, and know that moth.
| ing can ever unseat it now. Good-by,
SIR"
| / felt little uncomfortable about the
eripplings and arsons this person had
been entertaining himself with, for
could not help feeling remotely accesso-
ry to them; but these thoughts were
quickly banished, for the regular editor
walked in! I thought to myself, Now
if you had gone to Egypt, as I recon-
mended you to, I might have had a
chance to get my hand in; but you
wouldn't do it and here you are. sort
of expected you."
The editor was looking sad, and per-
picked, and detected. He surveyed the
wreck which that old rioter and these
two young farmers had made, and then
said:
''rhis is sad business-a very sad
business. There is the mucilage bottle
broken, and six panes of glass, and a
spittoon, and two candlesticks. But
that is not the worst. The reputation
of the paper is injured, and permanent
ly, fear. True, there never was such
a call for the paper before, and it never
sold such large edition or scared TO
such celebrity; but does one want to be
famous for lunacy, and prosper upon the
infirmities of his mind? My friend, as
am an honest man, the street out here
is full of people, and others are roosting
on the fences, to get a glimpse of you,
because they think you are crazy. And
well they might, after reading your edi-
torials. They are a disgrace to Journal
ism. Why, what put it into your head
that you could edit a paper of this ma
ture? You do not seem tn know the
first rudiments of agriculture. You
speak of furrow and harrow as being
the same thing; you talk OF the moult-
ing season of cows; and you recommend
the domestication of the polecat on ac-
count of its playfulness and its excel
Ience as ratter. Your remark that
CLAIMS will lie quiet if music be played
to them, was super1uous-entirely su-
perfluous. Nothing disturbs CLAIMS.
CLAIMS aLDdys lie quiet. CLANS care
nothing whatever about music. All.
heavens and earth, friend; if you had
made the acquiring of ignorance the
study of your life, you could not have
graduated with higher honor than you
could to-day. l never saw anything
like it. Your observation that horse
chestnut, as an article of commerce, is
steadily gaining in favor, is simple cal
culation to destroy this journal. I want
you to throw up your situation and so.
L want no more holiday-I could not en-
joy it if had it. Certainly not with you
in my chair. 1 would always stand in
dread of what you might be going to re-
commend next. 1t makes me lose all
patience every time think of your dis
cussing oyster beds under the head of
Landscape Gardening 1 want you to
go. Nothing on earth could persuade
me to take another holiday. Oh, why
didn't you tell me you didn't know any
thing about agriculture ?"
TEL you, you cornstalk, you cabbage,
you son of caulif1ower. It's the first
time 1 ever heard such an unfeeling re-
mark. 1 tell you have been in the ed |
itorial business going on fourteen years,
and it's the first time I ever heard of
mans having to know anything in order
to edit newspaper. You turnip! Who
write the dramatic critiques for the Sec
ond rate papers? Why, a parcel of pro-
NOTED shoemakersanda apprentice apoth-
ecaries, who know just as much about |
good acting as I do about good farming,
and no more. Who review the books
People who never wrote one. Who do
up the heavy leaders on finance? Par
ties who have the largest opportunities |
for knowing nothing about it. Who
criticise the Indian campaigns? Gen
tlemen who do not know a war-whoop
from a wigwam, and who never have
had to run foot race with tomahawk,
or pluck arrows out of the several mem
bers of their families to build the even
ming camp fire with. Who write the
appeals and clamor about
the flowing bowl? Folks who will never
it in the grave. Who edit the agricul- |
tural papers, you-yam? Men, as a
general thing, who fail in the poetry |
line, yellow covered novel line, sensa-
line, city editor line, and
finally fall back on agriculture as a tenn /
porary reprieve from the Poor House. |
You try to tell me anything about the
business! Sir, have been
it from Alpha to Omaha, and
I tell you the less man knows the big
ger noise he makes andthe higher the |
salary he commands. Heaven knoRsl
II had been ignorant instead of culti-I
waited, and impudenf instead of diffident,
1 could have made a name for myself in
this cold, selfish world. 1 take my leave,
s Since have been treated as you
ve>reated me, am perfectly willing
to go. NBut have done my duty.
have fulfilled my contract, as far as
yas permitted to do it. I said 1 could
make your paper of interest to all class
es, and have. said could run your
up to twenty thousand copies |
and ifI had two more weeks I'd have |
done it. And I'd have given you the
best class of readers that ever an agricul- |
tural paper had-not farmer in it, nor
a solitary individual who could tell a
watermelon from a peach-vine to save
his life. You are the loser By this rup-
ture, not me, Pie-plant. Adios."
then left.
Livingstone-His Probable Fate.
At the final fortnightly meeting the
Of 1QeO IN Of tl,a DoyoI noor-o