Wheeling register. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1878-1935, 1879-07-10
ELM GROVE RAILROAD.
THE BASHFUL POET
And the Knowing Young News
paper Man.

buEllislou nav ANgN'
Any body could tell what he had.
Every man in the sanctum knew IN
minute. The timId knock at the door
gave him clear away at the very start.
No man or woman ever knocks at
sanctum door unless he comes on that
fatal GRAND. Then he came inside and
took off his hat and bowed all round the
room, when every man on the stall roar
ed out, i'm terrible chorus, Come in!
Then he asked for the editor, and when
the underlings, with fine mlngllng oil
truth and grammar, pointed TO the
Youngest and the newest man In the
office. and yelled, That's him.! he
walked us 10 the young gentleman des-
ignated. and before he could unroll his
manuscript we knew the subject OF 1t,
and a deep groan echoed around the
room.
Poetry, young man." asked the edi-
tor.
eyes, sir" said the poet; "a couple
of triolets and sonnet on the marriage
of nv sister with a dear old college
friend"
cold college friend-male or female,
Young man." asked the editor severe
~.
male. sir" said the young man.
He said sir every time, and every
time he said it all the young gentleman
OF the staff, save the young gentleman
who persOnatedtheg governor, SncSered.
lie looked severe.
"Any thing more, young man.? he
asked.
eyes, sir" replied the infant Jenny
son; "a kind OF an idyll, an ode inscrib-
ed To My Lost Love.
Glove been lost very long, young
MANI" asked the journalist, very criti-
cally.
"Well. it's immaterlal, that is, T." STAN
mered the young man; Its indefinite
its"
ever advertised for it," asked the
reporter, who was writing a pull Tor
Slabs tombstOnes, but he was instantly
irowned down.
"Anvthing more?" asked the princi-
pal interlocutor; anything more, young
man.
eyes, sir" was the hopeful response,
"a threnOdy in memory OF my departed
brother"
Brother dead, young man, or only
gone to Sagetown"
Dead. sir.
"Hour own brother.
"No. sir. never had real brother;
its only imaginary
Cant take this, then, young man,
was the chilling reply. Poetry, to find
acceptance with the Hawkeye, must be
true. Have TO reject this threnody, not
because it is not very beautiful, but be-
cause it is not true. Now, how much
do YOU want for these others?
And he fingered them over like a man
buying mink-Skins.
The poet really didn't know. He had
never published before; he had barely
dared 10 hope to have hIs verses pub
Hshed at all. 4 few copies Of the paper
containing them, he was sure
ooh. no" the editor broke in, "Oh,
no, no, sir. can't do that; we don't do
business that way; ii Il poem or sketch
is worth publishing it is worth paying
for. Would fifteen dollars pay you Tor
these
The poet blushed to the floor with
gratitude, and the young journalist
GfIDtliN NThlt hul tAli 'i'ANA sN'''' ''eN''N'
eel il to tn" poet.
Take that to the Courthouse, he
said. "and the Auditors clerk will give
YOU the money
The poet bowed and withdrew, and
with great merriment the journalists
burned his poems and resumed their
work.
That wasn't the funny part OF 1t, how
ever. The next day the supplemented
poet presented his order to the clerk
designated. And it was so that the
clerk owed the paper SIS for subscrlp-
ton and advertising, and he promptly
cashcd the order and turned 1t I'M when
his bill was prcsante, and the manager
lust charged it 10 the salary account OF
the smart ung journalist who signed
the order, and the happieSt man and
the maddest man in America are living
i'm Burlington. One OF them Is happy,
green, unSophiSticated, young machine
poet. and the other a wide-awake, up
to-snuT now-the.world, get-up.and-
dust Young journalist, who is already
rival of Horace Greeley in some OF the
verbal departments OF journalism.