The daily dispatch. [volume] (Richmond [Va.]) 1850-1884, 1872-11-11


afflicted family with the resources of my art !;
and certainly thought the idea about the
monkey would have that effect, somehow. Al
is unsrateftll."
lust then there was knock at the door,
and woman entered. crying.
I" Are YOU the editorf" she inquired OF
Brimmer.
Brimmcr said he was.
W.w.welI," she said, in voice broken
BY sobs, "wh-what d'you mean by publish.
inc this kind of poetry ab-about my johnny
M-my name is Sln-Snith, and when looked
This m.morning for the notice of Johnny,s
d-death in v.your paper I saw this awful,
wicked, wicked v-verse:
..Four doctors tackled Johnny Smith,
They hlistcrea aud they hicd him;
With squiils and ant.bilious pills
And ipecac they fed him.
They stirred him up with calofnci,
And tried 10 move his liver,
Eut all III vain-hiS l!ttle soui
Was waited DER the river.
4It's false false that's what 1t is. Johnny
only had one doctor; and they didn't Try 10
| MIN move his liver. and they didnt pi'Dieea
him and b-blistcr him. It's wicked lal.c-
hood, and you're hard-hearted brute f-i-lor
| printing il ~ =,
Madam, shall 90 crazy If yon continue"
exclaimed Brimmcr. "ThlSls not my "oTh;
| II is the work of a serpent whom L warmed
| in my bosom, and whom l shall say WIN my
own hand as soon as he comes IN. Mauall.
the miserable outcast shall dir!"
"StranpeI strangc.' mused OFT. "ADd
this man told me TO combine elcvatiDg seHti-
mcnt with practical information. II the in
formation concerning the squills and ipecac
is not practical, have misunderstood the use
of that word. And If young Smith didn't
have four doctors it was all outrage. he
ought TO have had them, and they ought to
have excited his liver. Thus it is" thought
OFT. "tbat human life Is sacrificed to care
!essness.'
While the poet unused, hurried steps were
heard upon the stairs, and in moment a
middle.aged man dashed III abruptly, and.
Selling Brimmcr's scattered BAR, bumped
his PROSTATE head against the table three or
four times with considerable force. Having
extended the violence of his emotion in tins
manner, he held the editors head down with
one hand, shaking it occasionally by way OF
emphasis, and with the other hand seized
the paper and said
"You dSgraccful old reprobatel You I'M
svmputhetic and disgusting vampire. ION
hoary-headed old ghoul. What d'you mean
by putting such stuff rs this in your vile
sheet about my deceased SON: What dyol
mean by printing such awful doggerci as
this, YOU dcpravedand dissolute inksllngcr-
you im5ecic old quill-driyer, you:
| as Oh bury Bartholomew out In The woods.
hi n beautiful hole IN The ground,
Where the buulble-bccs buzz and tile Wood-
And the stradd!c-bugs tumble around:
So that in winter when the SNOW and Tic s!nsh
Have covered his last little bt-i' go
tIf,r ART, m II
And visit the place with his sled
"Pll teach you to talk about stradd'c.bu%s
| III instruct YOU about Slush I'll cnilghten
! YOUR insane old intellect on the SUBJECT OF
singing woodIcckers. What Go you know
about James and Artcmus, you Wretched
buccaneer, YOU dcspicablc butcher OF the
English languayc2 Go out with sled III
carry YOU olit in hearsc before l ain done
with YOU, YOU dcpiorabe l,lnatic"
At the end Of every phrase the visitor gave
the editors head fresh knock against tue
table. When the exercise was ended Ar.
Brmmer explained and apologized in The
humblcst manner. promising at The same
time TO give Iii: ;;ssaiIant Il chance to punlmel
OFT.
THE trcachery Of the man," murinuicd
the poet, dis dreadful. Didn't he desire me
TO throw glamour Of poetry over common
place details? But for that | should never
have thought Of abiding TO woodpcckcrs
and bugs aud other children Of nature. The
man objects to the remarks about tic SLED.
Can't the idiot know that it was necessary
TO have rhyme fcr 'bed!' Can lie suppose
that could write poetry without rhymes
The man is a lunatci lie ought not be at
large"
Hardly had the indignant and energetic
parent Of Bartholomew departed when Nun
with red hairand q tcrocous glare i'll his eyes
entered, carrying II club and accompanied 10y
a Savagc-looking dog.
81 want to sec tho editor" he shouted.
A CHASTITY mllor o'crsprcad Brimmer's
face, and he said:
"The editor is not in
"Well, when will he he Ing"
"Not for week, Il month, year-for-
cyerl He will never come in any more,
screamed Drummer. Gle has gone to South
America with the Intention Of remaining
there during the balance Of his life. He llus
departed ; he has fed. II you want to see
him YOU had better follow him to the Eqll-
tor. He VIII be glad to see you. would
advise you as friend TO take the next DoHt
and start at once
"That is unfortunate" said the man with
the golden locks. Il called for the purpose
of battcring him up IL lot with this club"
ole will be sorrv," said Brmmrr, sarc.s-
ticalN. ole will regret missing YOU.
will write 10 him and mention that you
dropped i'm
"My name is McFaddcn," said the man.
81 came to break the head of the man who
wrote that obituary poetry about my wife.
If you don't tell me who perpctrated the
following Pll break yours for you! Where's
the man who wrote this? Pay attention!
Mrs. McFadden has gone FROM this life;
She has left all It's sorrows and cares.
She caught The rheumatism in both OF her legs
While scruahlng the cellars and stairs
They pu, mustard plas,c:s upon her In vain,
They bathcd her with whiskey and rum;
But Thursday her spirit departed, and left
Her body entirely NUMB
"The slave who held the late Mrs. Mead
den up to the scorn of an unsympathetic
| world in that shocking manner" said the
editor, sis named Remington Off, lie
boards i'll Blank street, fourth door from the
corner. would advise you TO call on him
and avenge Mrs. McFadden's wrongs with q
iudcious intcrmiXture Of club and dog
bites"
The poet determined to leave before any
| further criticisms were made upon bis per-
! furmauces. He jumped down from his chair
and crept softly toward the back staircase.
Arriving at the landing, he suddenly encoun-
tered Brimmer, who was moving off in the
same direction. The editor had hardly time
enough to utter proiane ejaculation and 10
| lit his hand to strike the poet when an old
lady in poke-bonret and silver spectaclcs
suddenly emerged from the stairway and
pinned the editor to the wall with the frTule
| cl L., b,. 10, y, Of