Ashtabula telegraph. (Ashtabula, Ohio) 1874-1880, 1876-04-21
The Fighting Editor.

of England aud America.
The Fighting Editor.
The recent visit,to New York of
Col. Horace Featherstock, the veteran
Arkansas journalist, recalls an ami
mated and hitherto unpublished pas,
sage in the earlier days of that gen.
tleman's yariegated career. In that
time and place vigorous muscular
development, quick eye, and steady
nerve, were counted of no less value
in the editors equipment than pow
erful mind. The rugged and impul-
siYe nature of the inhabitants led
them to a hastiness in the settlement
of personal disputes that prospered
the undertakers even at times when
all other business pursuits languish-
ed. In this respect they differed
materially from their more philoso-
phieal feIlow-citizens of the East.
Here, if, as might happen in even the
best-regulated Office, an error crept
into the paper, the aggrieved party
would call quietly and courteously
and state his case. securing as courte-
GUS correction; there the offended
person walked in behind a pistol and
casually expressed belief that if the
editor was rapid writer he might
possibly get the retraction written
before he had finished all the shots
in his revolver.
In many cases this aggressive ac-
tion aroused equally combative quail
ties in the editor, and it not infre-
quently happened that one or the
other was killed. These circumstances
gradually developed the so-calIed
fighting editor, a picturesque and
powerful character peculiar TO Amer
lean Journalism. To him were re-
ferred all questions of disputeinvolv-
ing personal argument. He was the
chivalrous, open-hearted, and brave
representative of class now nearly
extinct, whose character has suffered
only from the reckless exaggeration
of local historians, themselves lux
uriant products of the same soil.
Col. Featherstock was scarcely
twenty-one when he entered the
office of the Eagieville Til Weekly
7on1dhdaek and Mirror, and he had
been there scarcely three weeks
when the summary and scientific
manner in which he elected power
full backwoods-man, who had venturl
ed to remon strate against a savage
personal reference to himself, deter
mined the chief to appoint Feathe-
stock to the arduous and responsible
position of fighting editor; post
ne held for seven years with hon
or to himself and credit to his, paper.
he was good shot, and similar in
his suddenness to lightning. 1t is
said that during his stay in the
c1on1dhGs6k office he killed nineteen
men. In fact, the numbered those
who blundered in their dealings with
him was so great that it became a
current humorous saying in there-
gion that Featherstock kept a grave.
yard of his own, @ si 81. ~
There lived in neighboring county
a gigantic and bloodthirsty raffisn,,
who had often heard of the renown.
ed fighting editor of the zoDaahqsok,s
and, having held his own, and some
times more, with everybody he had
ever met, he resolved to go to Ea-
gleville and clean out the Colonel.
When he appeared in the Tomahasok
Office he might, but for his great size
and ferocious aspect, have been mis-
taken for the drummer of firearms
establishment. All his pockets were
full of assorted weapons, and his
belt Iuoked like a,fenee with pistol
pickets. He stalked in with an air
of brutal insolenee, and said to the
Colonel: B.
"Are you the 7OnaahaaOEs fight
ing editor?" =
The Colonel modestly allowed that
he was. os "a
81 understand you keep a select
burying ground of your own" ssga
Eyes" said the Colonel, 81 must
admit that | do find it necessary to
keep a private cemetery -
The rufEian reached down in his
irightIhand outside coat pocket, and
lifted out an immense old-fashioned
revolver that bore striking resem-
blance to a young Gatling gun. HeE
staggered up to the Colonel, and
banged the muzzle of the pistol down
so saIagely that it made a. deep dent
in the desk, and the words that ae.l
,uompanied the action were: a5a'
"Well, I've come, to be buried in
that grayeyardp isaa
& For the first land last) time in his
life the Colonel weakened. 1t SEEM
ed to him that life had never seemed
so sweet as just at that moment-a
sentiment foStered, doubtless, by the
Knowledge that he was standing face
TO face with man who was fullyde-
termined to kill him. Buff for an in.a
slant his courage wavered, his su.
avity never f0rsook him, and he look
ed up with smile;
e ''f am right sorry, my friend, that
/ can't accommodate you, but my
graveyard is full. There really isn't
room for another one.
81 was afraid you couldn't find
room in it for me, said the stranger,