The Republican journal. [volume] (Belfast, Me.) 1829-current, 1876-11-02
The Editors Patent Protector.
From the Burlington Hawkeye. !

| lfrom the burlington HaWkeye.
| The Hawkeye has just got in its new editori-
al room, and it is proud to say that it has the
finest, most comfortable, complete and conven-
| lent editorial rooms in America. They are fin
| ished off with a little invention which will be
| of untold value to the profession of journalism
| when it Is generally adopted, and we know that
| 1t will rapidly come into universal use as soon
as its merits are understood and appreciated.
we believe it is fully equal in all that the term
| implies, to the famous Bogardess Kicker, less
liable to get out of order, and less easily de-
| tected by casual visitors. 1t is known as Mid
! dlerlb's Automatic Welcome" The sanctum
is on the same floor as the news room, being
separated from it by partition, in which is cut
| Il large window, easily opened by an automatic
! arrangement. The editors table is placed in
| front of that window and near the head of the
| stairs. and on the side of the table next the
window, directly opposite the editor, the Wis
ior's chair is placed. 1t has an inviting look
about it, and its entire appearance is guileless
| and commonplace. But the strip Of floor on
which that chair rests is Il deception and IA
fraud. II is an endless chain, like the floor Of
a horse power and is operated at will by the
editor, who has merely to touch spring in the
floor 10 set il in motion. Its operation can best
he understood by personal inspection.
Yesterday morning about ten O'Clock Mr..
Bostwck came in with funny story to tell.
He naturally Hoped down into the chair that
had the strongest appearance of belonging 10
some one else, and began in his usual happy
VEN: ''Iye got the richest thin9-oh! ha, ha,
ha!-the best thing-oh, by George! | can't
oh ha, ha, ha. Oh! It's too good Oh. by
George, the richest thing! On it's too loud,
You must never tell where YOU got-oh, bv
George, | can't do it! It's too good! You
know-oh, ha, ha, ha, oh. he. he, he! You
know the-oh, by George l c;l-' Here the
editor touched the spring IL mil grab under the
bottom Of the chair reached swiftly up and
caught MIR. BoStwck by the cushion of his
pants, the window flew up, and the noiseless
belt of floor gliding ON its course bore the as
tonished Mr.. Bostwick through the window
out INTO the news room, half way down to the
eases, where he was received with great ap-
platI,e by the delighted compositors. The
window had slammed down at soon as he
passed through, and when the editorial foot
was Withdrawn from the spring and the chair
Stopped and the nail grab resumed is accus-
toned place, Young Mr.. Rostwick found him
self so kind of out of the sanctum, like it might
be, that he went slowly and dejectedly down
the stairs lS it WERE while amaZement sat
upon Ills brow, like.
The next casual visitor was Mr.. j. Alexis
t'laXeter, the critic. lie had Il copy of the
ilaWkcye in his hand, with all the Topographic
cal errors marked in red ink, and his face was
SO wrealhed in smiles that it was impossible To
tell where his mouth ended and his eyes began.
He took the vacant chair and spread the paper
out before him, covering up the editors manu-
script. My keen vision and delicate sense of
accuracy he said, ''are the greatest crosses of
my life Things that you never see are noun
tains in my sight. Now here you see j, t."
The spring clicked softly, like an echo, to the
impatient movement OF the editors foot. the
nail grab took hold like Il bulldog helping Il
Burlington troubadour over the garden fence,
the chair Shot back through the window like Il
meteor, and the window came down with IL
slam that sounded like wooden giant getting
of the shortest bit of profanity known to man,
and all was silent again. Mr.. FlaNeter sat very
close to the frosted window, staring blankly at
.l.,.l tl,f,,