Eaton weekly Democrat. [volume] (Eaton, Ohio) 1866-1875, 1872-11-28
EATON OHIO, THURSDAY NOVEMBER 2S 1879.

woe, and tell me the name of the writer,
so that can chastise him."
The editor read as follows:
I'VE have LIST our littl, Hannah in a very painful
And we often asked. How can her harsh uuffsrings
When her death, was first reported her aunt got up
With the gri that she supported. for it made her
She such a little seraph. that her father. who
Really doesn't to IL he smiles 10 life
She has gone we hope to Heaven the early age of
Funeral starts of at eleven). where she'll never
"As a consequence of this infamy l
withdraw all the country advertising
from your paper. A man who could
trifie in this manner with the feelings
of parent is a savage and a scoun-
drel !"
AS the Sheriff went out, Brimmer
placed his head upon the table and
| groaned.
Really" Mr.. OFT reflected, that
person must be deranged. tried, in
his case, to put myself in his place, and
to write as if was one of the family,
according 10 instructions. The verses
are beautiful. That allusion to the
| grief of her aunt, particularly, seemed to
| be very happy. 1t expresses violent
emotion with felicitous combination of
sweetness and force. These people havo
no soul-no appreciation of the beauti-
full in art"
While the poet unused, hurried steps
were heard upon the stairs, and in
moment middle aged man dashed in
abruptly, and, seizing Brimmer's scat
tered hair, bumped his PROSTATE head
against the table three or four times
with considerable force. Having ex.
pended the violence of his emotion in
this manner, he held the editors head
down with one hand, shaking it occa-
sionally by way of emphasis, and with
the otner hand seized the paper and
said
"You disgraceful old reprobate You
unsympathetic and disgusting vampire
Y You hoary headed old ghoul What
dye mean by putting such stuff as this
in your vile sheet about my deceased
SON? What dye mean by printing such
awful doggerel as this, you depraved
and dissolute ink-slinger-you imbecile
old quill-driver you:
90, Oh bury Bartholomew out in the woods.
Where the humble bees buzz and the wood-peckers
And the strad dle-bugs tn mb'e around:
ESs m wle5 s shs fhs e bo and the Suh
And visit the placs with his sled.'
"I'lI teach you to talk about straddle-
bugs I'll instruct you about slush
I'll enlighten your insane old intellect
on the subject of singing wood peckers
What do you know about Jane and Ar
temus, you wretched buccaneer, you
despicatle butcher of the English lam
guagel Go out with sled l'll carry
you out on a hearse, before I'm done
with you, you deplorable lunatic !"
At the end of every phrase the visitor
gave the editors head fresh knock
against the table. When the exercise
was ended, Mr.. Brimmer explained and
apologized in the humblest manner,
promising at the sar time to give his
assailant a chance to pummel OFT.
"The treachery of the man." muir
INJURED the poet, is dreadful. Didn't
he desire me to throw a glamour of
for that l should never have thoug hit of
alluding to woodpeckers, and bugs, and
other children of nature. The man OBJ
jects to the remarks about the sled.
Can't the idiot know that it was neces-
sary to have a rhyme for 'bed?' Can
he suppose that | could write poetry
without rhymes2 The man is a lunatic
He ought not to be at large"
Hardly had the indignant and ener-
getic parent of Bartholomew departed,
when a man with red hair and a fero-
cious glare in his eyes entered, carrying
club and accompanied by savage
looking dog.
81 want to see the editor ~ he
shouted.
"The editor is not in"
"Well, when ,oiU he be in ?''
"Not for a week-a month"; year
for everl He will never come in any
moreI" screamed Brimmer. "He has
gone to South America, with the inten-
ton of remaining there the balance of
his life. He has departed-he has fed.
If you want to see him you had better
follow him to the equator. He will be
glad to see you. ] would advise you, as
friend, to take the next boat, and to
start at once"
"That is unfortunate" said the man
with the golden locks; Il called for the
purpose of battering him up lot with
this club.''
"He will be sorry" said Brimmer,
sarcastical'y. "He will regret missing
you. / will write to him, and mention
that you dropped in"
"My name is McFadden," said the
man. /" came to break the head of
the man who wrote that obituary about
my wife. If you don't tell me who per-
petrated the following, I'll break yours
for you Where's the man who wrote
this? Pay attention
Mrs. McFadden has gone from this life
She caught tho rheu ,natisrn in both her legs
While scrubbing the cellar and stairs.
They put mustard plaster on her vain
They bathed her with whisky and rum;
But Thursday her spirit departed, and left
Her body entirely numb"
"The slave who held the late Mrs. Nc
Fadden up to the scorn of the unsympa-
thetic world in that shocking manner"
said the editor, is named Remington
ntt. He boards in Blank street, fourth
door from the corner. I would advise
you to call ON him and avenge Mrs.
McFadden's wrongs with an audicious
intermixture of club and dog bites"
"And this" sighed the poet, outside
the door, is the man who told me to
divert McFadden's mind from contem-
plation of the horrors of the tomb. 1t
was this monster who counselled ME to
make the sunshine Of McFadden's
smiles burst through the tempest of
McFadden's tears IF that sore-headed
monster couldn't smile over that allu-
sion to whisky and rum; if those remarks
about the rheumatism in her legs could
not divert his mind from the horrors of
tho ton, h WAC If NV faI1lt MoFa 6dap