The Cambria freeman. [volume] (Ebensburg, Pa.) 1867-1938, 1878-06-07
MORE COPY.

In the sanctum, cold and dreary, SIT the
writer, weak ard weary, pOndering Ger a
memorandum book of items used before
tbook of scrawling head notes rather
items taking days to gather them in cold
and wlntry weather, using up much time
and leather pondered we those items DER.
While We cOnned them, slowly rocking.
through our mind queer ideas flocking,
came quick and nervous Knocking
knocking at the sauctum door-"Sure that
must be JInkS," we muttered-"Jin links
that 5 knocking az our sane um door, jerks
the everlasting bore" Ah how we'll do
we remind us, in the walls which then
confined us, the exchanges lay behind
us, aud before us, and around us, all scat
tered DER the floor. Thought we "Jinks
wants to borrow some newspapers ill to-
morrow, and twill be no relief from sorrow
to get rid of Jinks, the bore, by opening
wide the door, Still! the visitor kent
knocking, knocking louder than before.
Aud the scattered pile of papers cut
some rather curious capers, being lifted by
the breezes through another door and
wished ihe wish is evil for one deemed
always civil) that Jinks was at the devil.
to stay there evermore there to find his
level-Jinks, the everlasting bore
Bracing up our patience firmer, then
| without another murmeI, ''Mr. Jinks,"
said we, ''your pardon, your forgiveness
we implOre. But the fact is we were read
ing of some curious proceeding, and thus
it was, unheeding your loud rapping there
before" Here we opened wide the door.
But phaucy now our pheelinks-for IL
wasn't Jinks, the bore-Jinks, nameless,
evermore.
But the form that stood before us caused
trembling to come DER us, and memory
swiftly bore us back again 20 days of yore
days when items were in plenty, and
wher'er this writer went he picked up
| items by the score. Twas the form of our
devil, in attitude uncivil; and he thrust
his head within the door with ''The fore>
man out o copy, sir, and he says he wants
some more;
Now, this ''locaP' had already walked
about till nearly dead-he had sauntered
| through tue city till his feet were very sore
walked through the street called Evans,
and the byways running into portions of
the city, both public and obscure, had ex-
amined store aud cellar, and had question
ed every fellow whom we met, from door
to door, If anything was stirring anything
occurring, not published heretofore, and
had met with no success he would rather
kinder guess he felt little wicked at that
ugly little bore, with a message from the
foreman that he wanted something more
Now, it's time you were departing, YOU
scamp :! cried we, upStarting "get you
/ back INTO the ofice-Office where you we're
before or the words that you have spoken
viii! get your bones all broken land we
seized a cudgel, oaken, that was lying on
the ftoor) take your hands out of your
! pockets and leave the sanctum door. Tell
the foreman there's no copy, you ugly
/ little bore" Quoth the devil, ''Send him
/ more -
! And the devil, never sitting. still is fit
ting, back aud forth upon the landing just
+ outside the sanctum door. Tears adown
I his cheeks are streaming strange light
/ from his eyes is beaminG, and his voice is
beard still screaming. Sir, the foreman
! wants some more ~