The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1877-07-04
THE PRESS.
Written for the Press.l
SylvanuS w. Kicker.

the Daily Dynamite and Weekly Nitrogy
crime, an independent journal of much en-
terprise.
Let the gentle reader pardon a brief di-
erosion here, to the natural enthusiasm of
man devoted to his profession. An indepen-
dent journal, ours was type of its class.
Instead of being at the beck and call of
either political party, it was controlled by
precisely ten men who presented through its
columns their lively minority report. We
no public men or measures, a cor
rupt administration had not seen fit to ap-
point either of our ten stockholders to office;
and we, with answering probty, denounced
was done or left undone by Demo-
Gratis and Republicans alike. The situation
is evident to the reasoning observer. Parti-
san journals naturally incline 10 praise so far
as may be,the action of their own party, and
depreciate that of the opponent faction. Two
courses are thus left TO the Independent Jour-
nal, to praise everything or take refuge in
universal blame. The first plan is genial
but does not sell paper. Consequently we
adopted the other system, which, you will be
glad to hear me say, succeeded admirably.
We darkly hint in each issue that there is
something in state of advanced decompo.
sition in the commonwealth of Denmark;
that unless something is done, and that soon,
our beloved country must sink into rapid
decline and fall, to which that OF Rome was
mere trile. We never insult the manly I'M
derstanding of our subscribers by suggesting
he particular thing to be done, but we re-
terate woe ia general terms, like the nom
committal kind of Cassandra that we are.
With gentlemen of culture who very proper
iy decline to interfere in politics, which under
a republican government necessarily are not
the select affair that they could wish; with
placid agriculturalists who read exclusively
our journal, and with nervous elderly ladies',
our oracular shrieks are very effective. Our
disinterested policy, our language Of noble
and honest plainness, carry with them con-
viction. Did the welfare of natl onal truth
and probity not forbid it, why should the
Daily Dynamite not throw its preponderat-
lican or Democratic party? Simply because
it is able to discern the flaw in the diamond
of Democracy, the canker in the rose of Re-
publican:sm. Unless an immediate millen.
ium be instituted by one or the other of
these rival parties, the Daily Dynamite and
Weekly Nitroglycerine will have none of
them, and must pursue its lone but gloriou
course of independent journalism, an ire
sponsible, radiant comet, wandering through
the night of anarchy. Again beg you to
pardon this depression. have dwelt long
upon this pleasing subject because, with the
instinct Of man who has suffered, I hest
tate in dread to recall grieis passed over.
One year ago, have said, was assistant
shipping editor and unhappy. To-day,
hold the same responsible office, but with
difference. Then, was haunted man; ;
now, thanks to the Legislature, the ghost is
laid. Had it been only ghost, or even
man that a ghost might have been elimin-
ated from by special dispensation or human
agency! To be followed by ghost would
have supplied me in all probability with
succession of interesting items; by its SUPER
natural agency might by this time be gem
eral news editor. There are advantages in
ghosts you can shoot one without damage
TO either party, it is true; you can write
him up without danger of libel suit :yand, at
worst he disappears at cockcrow. My case
was worse, far worse. was haunted by
name. may as well write it in its terrible
identity, this name that met me everywhere
-Sylvanus W. r ECKER. Let it be understood
had no previous unpleasant associations
with S. W. R or any of his kindred or name
sakes. Kicker is an homes: name, w. has
the merit of vagueness, and Sylvanus is
matter of taste. I had never wronged a
Kicker, and a Kicker had never, so far as I
am aware, collided with my interests. When
I married my Mary Ellen, no blighted Kicker
watched me with murder in his heart, or
Kissed between his teeth any of the anathe-
mas for such cases made and provided. From
contemporary evidence am led to believe
that about the time that chose journalism
as my walk in life, Sylvanus W. Kicker en-
tered upon the arena of insurance agency.
"Ah," I hear the over-confident reader
exclaim. Sis not the insurance agent, in vir-
tue of his Office, the Ishmaelite of to-day? Is
not that enought to justify your dislike9" 1
do not reply. only ask you, SIS this an
earthly paradise? Was Sylvanus W.1Ricker
she unique specimen of his kind, insinuating
to man that if has knowledg of what is good
for himself he will wager his bottom dollar
upon his longevity?' Indeed, were there
not others of his calling, whose hand daily
took for friendships sake, overlooking all
discrepancies; cannot account for the ut
terly paralyzing possession with which the
name of Sylvanus W. Kicker took hold of my
despairing soul.
The first time ever heard it was when
our business manager remarked to the clerk,
"By the way, Sylyanus W. Kicker hasn't
paid his bill for advertising yet" Let me
not be unjust, the bill was paid in course of
time, but the name was not erased from the
ledger of my brain, but remained there re-
corded in double entry. He advertised in
gentlemanly manner; no posters threatened
the passer-by with death or S. w. Ricker's
Cough Balsam; no sensational display of
type sweetly heralded to Sylvanus Ricker's
Saleratus, or whispered to hope in fattering
words ''Try Rcker's Stove Polish" He was
an insurance agent, and a suitably worded
square of neat nonpareil "dtf' intimated the
same.
Yet 60 where would, the name met my
wearied gaze. Was testimonial to be pre-
sented to courteous railway conductor, it
was invariably Sylvanus W. Kicker who
inserted the enormou diamond in the snowy,
shirt-front of the recipient, who
unexpectant, overwhelmed, was nevertheless
assisted to make fluent speech indicating
some president preparation. Were resolu-
tions of respect to deceased member of any
society to be drawn up, Sylvanus W. Kicker
was the man to put sympathy and sorrow
into shape. He lived at 900, Goth street,
at the same number, Goth street. Con-
gressonal reports and taiors bills to his
address were constantly left at my door,
and l know that Sylvauus revealed in my
opera-tickets, and waxed fat and kicked in
my new boots.
The name of this man became haunting
70 tln xrlo