The interior journal. [volume] (Stanford, Ky.) 1872-1881, 1878-05-24

. Nv wv HahNeuhf Noi' wv" "''g
sat the writer, weak and weary, pom
d'ring DER memorandum book o
items used before-(book Of scrawlinl
head notes, rather; items taking day
TO gather them in cold and wintry
weather; using up much time and
leather -pondered we these items DER
While we conncd them, slowly rock
ing, through our mind queer idea,
aocking, came a quick and nervou,
knocking, knocking at the sanctum
door. "Sure that must be Jinks," we
muttered, "Jinks that's knocking n
our sanctum door; Jinks, the ever
lasting bore" All well do we remind
Us, in the walls which then confined us
the exchanges lay behind and before
no. and around US, all scattered DER
the floor. Thought we: "Jipks wants
to borrow some newspapers till to.mor.
row, and twill be relief from sorrow
to get rid Of Jinks. the bore" Still
the visitor kept knocking, knocking
louder than before.
And the scattered pile Of paper, cut
some rather curious capers, being lift.
ed by the breezes coming through an.
other door; and We wished (the wish
is evil, for one deemed always civiD
that Jinks was at the devil, to stay
there evermore; there TO find his level
-Jinks, the everlasting borel
Bracing up our patience frmsr, then
without another murmur, Mr.Jinks,
said we. "your pardon, your forgive
ness we implore. But the fact is, We
were reading Of some curious proceed
ing, and thus it was. unheeding your
lond wrapping there before" Here
we opened wide the door. hut phsn.
cy now our pheelinx--for ii wasn't
Jinks, the bore--Jinks. nameless ev.
ermore.
But the form that stood before rs
caused a trembling to come DER us
and memory brought us back again to
days Of yore; days when items were in
plenty, and Wiener the writer went
he picked up items by the score. Twas
the form ofihe devil" in attitude un.
civil; and he thrust his head within
the open door, with "The foremans
out of copy, sir, and says he wants
some morel"
Now, this "local" had already walk.
ed about till nearly dead; he had saun.
tered through the city till his feet were
very sore; walked through the street
called Evans, and in the byways run.
ming of into portions Of the city, both
public and obscure, had examined
stores and cellar, and had questioned
every feller whom we met, from door
to door, if any thing was stirring. any
thing occurring not published hereto
fore; and had met with no success; he
would rather kinder guess he felt a
little wicked at the ugly little bore,
with his message from the foreman
that he wanted something more.
"Now its time you were depart
ing, you scamp" cried we, upstarting;
"get you back into the Office. Office
whero you were before; or the words
that you have spoken, will get your
bones all broken" (and we seized a
cudgel oaken that was lying on the
floor, "take your hands out Of your
pockets, and leave the sanctum door;
tell the foreman there's no copy, you
ugly little bore Quoth our devil
"Send him more!"
And our devil, never sitting. still is
fitting, back and forth upon the land
ing Just outside the sanctum door.
Tears adown his cheeks are streaming,
a strange. light from his eyes is beam
ing, and his voice is herri still scream.
ing-"Sir, the foreman wants some
more!"