American citizen. [volume] (Canton, Miss.) 1864-1890, 1872-03-23
VOL. XXII.

in my own-that | am urging this and
there some fumbling in the pocket), -
think if you were to intercalate this il
your next money article, it would spar
company ever unhappily collapse-which
mind, am certain it never will" Yes
but-one moment - calculates NJ. Tar
tine. Yes, rs many moments as you
like" answers the money man land i
you like will explain to you all the work
ings of our company. l have, thought
fully, brought the prospectuses with me.
And he sits down.
1t takes half an hour by the clock befor,
NJ. Tartine can dispose of the money man
who has piled figures with an energy OF
lung which drives his nearer stark desper
ate. He is compelled to surrender al
discretion, and the money man then
makes his affable bow, vowing that con
versation with NJ. Tartine is quite plea
sure and profit. He is scarcely gone
when the office-boy enters to say there arc
three more gentlemen waiting to see the
editor, and two ladies; and at the same
printer, brisk, discursive, and by alter
nate fits respondent and over-sanguine-
to say that there is no copy in hand, that
half the paper ought to be made up by
this time, and that everything will to a
certainty be late. "But what am | to
do?" CALCULATES NJ Tartine, in frenzy. 81
can't write the whole paper:" ''But has
monsieur read his letter2' inquiries the
printer. ''What letters?" asks NJ. Tar
tine; and here his eye lights for the first
time on some three scores of unopened
envelopes arranged symmetrically before
him. Tell everybody that l am busyr"
he roars to the office-boy; ''let not a soul
come in" But the gentlemen and the
two ladies?" demonstrates the boy. LET
them be -! let them come tomorrow
when 1 am not here" yells NJ Tartine;
and feverishly he breaks open the cnvel-
opes in rapid succession: ITO the editor
of the Cigdrs. Sir-One of your contrib
utors asserts that Remus died in the year
1853 B. c.; the correct date of that histor-
ical event, if" 'Sir-I am surprised to
see one of your contributors, in abiding
to the death of Remus, appears to
put faith in the existence of that
parsonage. Surely he must be
aware that =" ''Sir, That the long
exploded fallacy as to the death of Remus
should have found place in your col
deplorable." Il wish to heaven" breaks
out NJ. Tartine, that Rcmus-whS's the
matter now?" This is to the office-boy,
who has come back scared, to say that
the gentlemen outside refuse to go away,
and have sent in their cards. NJ. Tartine
glances at the pasteboards; they are those
of officers on the staff, and the words;
"affaire d'honneur" are penciled in the
corner of one of them. Needs must when
honor drives, and the gentlemen are in
PRODUCED. I'm these delicate matters it is
better to speak plainly and at once" be-
gins the bluffest of the military men, in a
voice that makes the window-panes rattle
AN insult has been offered, and either a
full apology or a reparatiOn by arms must
be the alternative" 'But what insult
has been offereds" inquiries nonplussed
NJ Tartine. ''Do you call this no insult,
sir?" sings out the military man, thrust
ing back number of the Cfgdre under
NJ. Tartine's face and flashing lightning
from his eyes; and he reads: There is
no Disgusting that ever since they have
been put into their new jackets with fur
round the collars, the officers of the staff
display an unfortunate likeness to tropi-
cal red-legged and rufy-bird, called the
Soudan goose" But l didn't write
that" protests NJ. Tartine. 'But you're
the editor, sir, and at a moment when the
army have just saved society by sitting
lawlessness and plumber, you deserve to be
held responsible for all statements calcu-
lated to bring the service into ridicule."
We'll, then, l am responsible" retorts
NJ. Tartine, exasperated. LET it be
what you please, swords, pistols or blum
derbusses; my friends are NJ NJ Plumeau
and de Linea, whom you will find in the
next room, but, for patience's sake, let me
alone till five o'clock" 1--WE are not bent
upon duel" puts in one of the officers
he is louder of speech than the other;
IAN apology will serve u.s." "No," shouts
NJ. Tartine, impatient more at the tone of
his interlocution than at the demand, Il
will retract nothing; l indorse to the full
all my friends sentiments about the Sou
Ian goose. 1t is well said, gentlemen,
and l make personal matter of it l
wish you good morning." After this
here remains nothing but to make freeZ- |
ng bows all around, which is done, and
NJ. Tartine is left once more alone. But
not for long. Once again the printer ap- |
bears; /" 1t is one O'Clock, sir, and we
;eally must have some copy" II. Tar
inc, with glaring eyes, makes dart at a
blue envelope. "This is from Jules |
Siffiot; l know his hand, and it's his turn
o write the chronique to-day" He breaks |
he seal and reads: My dear Tartne,
am extremely sorry, but the sudden ILL
less of an aunt Il am her heir, which
makes it importantly calls me out of town
or day or two. Try and do without
ne to-day, if you possibly can. Emotion
prevents me from writing a single line
'ther than these few to acquaint you with
ny misfortune. Yours" etc. "This is
Pretty business" groans NJ. Tartine, and
wildly he snatches up one after the ether
Ill the cnvelops that are of bulky aspect
N quick succession the parcels of copy in
hem litter the floor; until at last NJ. Tar
inc, whose blood is at two hundred and
welve degrees, Fahrenheit, lights upon
he article of a gentleman who evidently
wrote his efiusion in vein of GOODNESS
nearly similar. ''Pr;etorianism' is the
tile and IL hepinS. as IL conceivable |
hat we should have waded through half
dozen revolutions to find ourselves now
more than ever under the spurs of an ar
ogant so,dicry, who 'eYes, that's it
rrogant soldieryr' exclaims NJ. Tartine,
delighted; that's the very term. This
mans article goes in where Sifiiot's chron-
que should have stood. Here, off with
to the press" And he hands it f1utter-
ng to the printer That functionary ex-
mines the last page. 'sNo signature, sir,
nd don't know the writing" Neither
o ], says NJ. Tartine, burrowing among
he papers on the floor; "there was a let
er with it, which ] can't find. But what
natters2 I'll sign il myself; / honor the
nan who penned it," And he does sign.
he printer, Struggling his shoulders, de-
arts, and makes room once again for the
ffice-boy. 'If you please, SIR" snivels
hat youth, keeping half his body behind
he door, for the editor pro tenn. is really
boxing ferocious-''if you please, the la
les outside say they ,aonr go. and both
f them are coming in" NJ Tartine
Iarts up with an expletivc which there is
o necessity to recall; but at the same in
Iant he stands silent and admiring, for
nc foremost of the two ladies has thrown
p her veil, and he has recognized one of
ie fairest actresses in Paris. That
!dy, however, seems by no means so