The Redwood gazette. [volume] (Redwood Falls, Minn.) 1873-1940, 1877-10-25

had 2X emptied, the whisper in which
he prOpounded the query was heard
cieaf 10 the etiitO44af room. Then the
new man polished his spectacles, fol-
he beamed1 on the humber ignorance
of th(new5foom Through. Harvard gig
lamp and corrected a few gramnati-
cal eibrs he sSlis06vered in editorial
copy 4 1t appeared from his entertain
ing e6nversation that he read proof
eleYekyearsin the New York Tribune
Office, leaving that position when he
was ten years old to come West. He
fell in with Mark Twain, whom he af-
sectionately referred to as "dear old
Sam Clemens and saved his life.
Their acquaintance deepened into the
most intimate friendship, and Mr..
Clemens was very anxious that the In
telligent. should marry his sister and
live with him. This the Intelligent,
however, could not do, as he was en-
gagged to y daughter of man named
Grant, fellow that used to own a tan
yard at Galena, Ill. But he broke with
the girl, moved away from Illinois, and
never heard what became of the family,
although he understood that the old
man went into the army, and was a
Colonel or something. He was on easy
terms with everybody. He leaned in
at the window of the editorial room to
say good-evening, and ask us if we ever
met q Cholly?" n
"Cholly?'' we believed we never had
any acquaintance of that name.
Well, he knew him well. Dear old
ChOlly. Dead and gone now, poor fell
low. Died in the Intelligent's arms.
Old Cholly Browne, the inimitable Ar
temus. He knew all the photographers
of to-day. Did we ever meet many OF
them? We blushed at our ignorance,
as we confessed that our personal ac-
quaintance with the good. pure men OF
that Christian Association was con-
fined to the saint who said his prayers
and told his beads (and lics) in the
Ha,Ok-Eye office.
We didn't know Bah then? he quericd.
We had never heard of the name.
Bah, he explained, of the Boston Post,
George Rabbit, but then he had never
called him anything else but Bah since
they were boys together. Did we know
Greg?
We had cousin named Gregg, we
said, but he was physician in Sacra.
mento, and didn't belong to the Para
graphers' Association.
Aw, no, he said, he meant Greg, Of
the Rochester Democrat. Gregory. Ole
Greg, he always called him at college
Well this was q quiet old town. He was
going up to Chicago. Run up and stay
with Pot day or two.
"Pot?' we asked, again ashamed o.
our ignorance.
| Yes. Pot Palmer. Always stale
with him when he was in Chicago. Pc
was cousin of his fathers If he hat
time he'd drop note to Bob Harris
and get a pass, but he guessed he wouldn'
wait. He wondered, musingly, if Jacl
was in Chicago now?
We could only answer with anothel
look of ignorant wonder.
Jack Logan, he explained. He want
ed to see him if he could. He hat
something to tell him. There were n,
secrets between him and Jack Logan
He was in Springfield, had parlors a
the Leland last winter, when that mat
ter was arranged with that old Bloom
ington boy, Dave Davis. Had we eve
met Dave?
A CLEAN of grateful intelligence
passed over our face as we eagerly re
| glied that we never had, but we ha,
seen his beautiful home and grounds a
BLOOMINGTON.
EYES," the Intelligent said, Il lai'
out them grounds, the plans of 'cm
myself. You can't tell me anythin,
about Dave Davis place." Well, h
said, he must go.
He looked blandly about the room
and, as he cleared his throat with
condcscending infection, we recognize
the old, familiar expression stealing
over his mobile features. We hastil
handed him take to hang on the hook
the moment his back was turned W
gathered the handiest hat in the room
and were halfway around the block be
fore he could turn around and ask fo
the customary half-dollar till min
o'clock. Ha,ck-Eyc.