Wyandot County Republican. [volume] (Upper Sandusky, Ohio) 1869-1903, 1872-03-21

| Remember, 1t is In the interest OF our share
holders our trusting shareholders, not
in my own-that 1 am urging this, and u
(here some fumbling in the pocket, 81
think if you were to intercalate this in
your next meney article, it would spare
| you pang or two of remorse should our
company ever unhappily collapse-which,
mind, l am certain it never will" "Yes,
but-one moment !" calculates NJ. Tar
tine. Yes, as many moments as you
like" answers the money man land if
you like will explain to you all the work
ings of our company. l have, thought
fully, brought the prospectuses with me. p"
And he sits down.
1t takes half an hour by the clock before
M. Tartine can dispose of the money man,
who has piled figures with an energy of
| lung which drives his hearer stark desper-
ate. He is compelled to surrender at
discretion, and the money man then
makes his affable bow, vowing that con-
versation with M. Tartine is quite plea
sure and profit. He is scarcely gone
when the office-boy enters to say there are
three more gentlemen waiting to see the
editor, and two ladies; and at the same
moment comes the printer-a French
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 I to
do!" calculates NJ. Tartine, in frenzy. 81
can't write the whole paper?" "But has
monsieur read his letters?' inquiries the
printer. "What letters?" asks M. 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 busy!"
he roars to the Office-boy; ''let not soul
come in" ''But the gentlemen and the
two ladies?" demonstrates the boy. ''Let
them be -! let them come tomorrow
when l am not here" yells M. Tartine;
and feverishly he breaks open the envel-
opes in rapid succession: ''To the editor
of the Cigare. Sir-One of your contrib
utors asserts that Remus died in the year
753 B. c.; the correct date of that histor-
ical event, if" ''Sir-I am surprised to
see one of your contributors, in alluding
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
umns strikes me as being in every way
deplorable.' Il wish to heaven" breaks
OuI NJ LII tluC, tudI h6uluS-Wudl 3 Tile
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;
''atfaire dhOnneur" are penciled in the
corner of one of them. Needs must when
honor drives, and the gentlemen are in
trOduced. ''In 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 ewindow-panes rattle.
can insult has been offered, and either
full apology or reparation by arms must
| be the alternative" 'But what insult
has been offered?" inquiries nonplussed
M. Tartine. ''Do you call this no insult,
sir?" sings out the military man, thrust
ing back number of the Csgare under
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 redlegged and rufy y-bird, called the
Soudan goose" "But 1 didn't write
that" protests M. Tartine. "But you're
the editor, sir, and at a moment when the
army have just saved society by sitting
lawlessness and plunder, you deserve to be
held responsible for all statements calcu-
lated to bring the service into ridicule.''
"Well, then, am responsible" retorts
nj. Tartine, eXasperated. "Let it be
what you please, swords, pistols or blum
derbusses; my friends are M NJ. Plumeau
and de Linea, whom you will fin d in the
next room, but, for patience's sake, let me
| alone till five O'Clock" "We are not bent
upon duel" puts in one of the officers
he is louder of speech than the other;
"an apology will serve u.s. "No," shouts
M. Tartine, impatient more at the tone of
his interlocution than at the demand, "I
will retract nothing; indorse to the full
all my friends sentiments about the Sou
dan goose. 1t is well said, gentlemen,
and make personal matter of it. I
wish you good morning" After this
there remains nothing but to make freez-
ing bows all around, which is done, and
M. Tartine is left once more alone. But
not for long. Once again the printer ap-
pears; 1t is one O'Clock, sir, and we
really must have some copy" N. Tar
tine, with g1aring eyes, makes dart at a
blue envelope. "This is from Jules
Siffiot; know his hand, and it's his turn
to write the chronique to-day" He breaks
the seal and reads: "My dear Tartme,
am extremely sorry, but the sudden i'll
ness of an aunt q am her heir, which
makes it importantly calls me out of town
for day or two. Try and do without
me to-day, if you possibly can. Emotion
prevents me from writing single line
other than these few to ac9uaint you with
my misfortune. Yours" ETC. "This is
pretty business" groans M Tartine, and
wildly he snatches up one after the ether
all the envelops that are of bulky aspect.
In quick succession the parcels of copy in
them litter the floor; until at last NJ. Tar
tine, whose blood is at two hundred and
twelve degrees, Fahrenheit, lights upon
the article of gentleman who evidently
wrote his effusion in vein of GOODNESS
nearly similar 'Pratorianism' is the
title, and it begins: 'Is it conceivable
that we should have waded through half
a dozen revolutions to find ourselves now
more than ever under the spurs of an ar
rogant soldiery, who"- Eyes, that's it
arrogant soldiery" exclaims NJ Tartine,
delighted; ''that's the very term. This
mans article goes in where Sifflot's chron-
ique should have stood. Here, off with
it to the press" And he hands it flutter-
ing to the printer. That functionary ex-
and I don't know the writing" "Neither
|
the papers on the floor; ''there was a let,
ter with it, which can't find But what
matters? Ill sign it myself; I honor the
man who penned it." And he does sign,
The printer, struggling his shoulders, de
parts, and makes room once again for the
ofice-boy. eff you please, SIR" snivels
that youth, keeping half his body behind
the door, for the editor pro tenn. is really
looking ferocious-'if you please, the la
dies outside say they acoss't go, and botf
of them are coming in!' NJ. Tartint
starts up with an expletive which there i:
no necessity to recall; but at the same in
stant he stands silent and admiring, fol
the foremost of the two ladies has thrown
up her veil, and he has recognized one o1
the fairest actresses in Paris. Tha
lady, however, seems by no means sc
pleased with him as he with her. M. Tar
tine" she gasps, ''you have dramatic
critic who is not worth the rope it would
cost to hang him. Did one ever see sucl
passage as this, printed yesterday-yes
| terdav 7 sayi DO Won hear me9n AM