The Vancouver independent. (Vancouver, W.T. [Wash.]) 1875-1910, 1878-06-20
A Tramp Editor.

He took pepper-sauce in his. We were
sure Of it; for we could smell it from the
other side of the table. He was short and
scady looking and his foot gear wore the
usual signals of distress. His red side
whiskers were a lighter but not brighter
, red than his face; his whole physiognomy
was rubicund. He rubbed his hands
| with pleasure as he stcadicd himself
against the "bank" and exclaimed in a
soft voice, "Well, it gives NE pleasure to
find myself among the gentlemen of the
press; | feel like fish III the water
again"
You are a printcr3" we asked.
mo; EDITORIAL" was the digufied re
sponsc.
We stared, and then we smiled. We
had seen tramp printers, tramp matters,
tramp shoemakers, tramp almost every
thing, as we'll rs tramps absolute; but
ncyer before had a tramp editor intro
duced himself.
He went on: Il came to Detroit with
recommendations to the Free Press: but
there being no opening there, Mr.. Quin-
by advised me to lCok further West in
the interior. Are you in need of any as
sstance in that liner
We gently explained to the deluded
Individual how it Would be as reasonable
to expect that the proprietor of peanut
stand would employ twelve hundred
dollar bookkeper, as that the publisher
of a country newspaper would hire an
editor. The idea when good pair of
scissors can be purchased for fArty cents,
and paid for in advertising.
A thought struck us: "Can You write
greenhack editorials'' We asked.
"Oh, certainly" was the reply.
"Then, perhaps, we can direct you to 4
job. A greenback paper has just been
started here, and they need an editor.
They need some one who can write an
editorial that common, ordinary in
diviGual can find head or tail to; some
thing that can be understood without an
Interpreter. They are going to beat us
at the election next Monday, too, and
you would have chance at some glori
location editorials. We should go and
apply for the situation by all means.
Dish EN- up lively, and then we will send
'em back to you, and we can have some
fine. exciting times
We looked up from the work on which
we were engaged, and he was gone! We
understand somebody aiterward gave him
a pass over the narroS gauge to Lawt1n.
A QUAINT anecdote of the artist Turner
is told by correspondent of the London
Times. "The dark, dingy old house." he
says, 'in Queen Anne ST., where Turner
lived, is familiar TO most of us. knocked
, at the door, which WAS opened by an old
woman, whose head WAS enveloped in n
dense mass of flannel and linen. Turner
was at home. was ushered into a small
room on the right Of the hall. After some
little nervous suspense the door opened "a
small man appeared, with grayish hair,
beetling eyebrows, and such a pair of
small, keen, gray eyes as | had never
seen before, and never shall see again.
He had on a dirty apron reaching nearly
to his chin, sleeves of the same dirty
white on his arms, and a trowel in his
right hand; his hands and face well
smeared with brick dust. This was the
great Turner. He exclaimed rs he en-
tered, what do you wantl Don't you
see I've got bricklaying job in hand Z
After some little talk, he said, 4 suppose
you wish to see the gallery" He kindly
took me into it, and told me to come
whenever | felt inclined, but he said,
Mind and don't give her anything, al
luding to the old woman who let me in, y
THoUGuTs TO BE REM EMBERED.-1he
object of all knowledge is truth. The