Connecticut western news., 1879-09-24
One of Wards Jokes.
AN UNPUBLISHED INTERVIEW WITH THE
 HUMORIST ARTEMUS WARD.

met Artemus Ward but once. Twas city editor of newspaper at the time. He had come among us to deliver his famous lecture, and the whole place turned out to hear him. Strange as it may appear didn't go. You see, was fathoms deep in love with girl at the time. and had rival. This rival, who had recently blazed out in new suit of clothes, was at the lecture, and, sitting by his side, as happy as kitten with a gill of sweet milk concealed about it's person, was the idol of my heart-the alas tickle queen of my young affec- tions. This Is the reason that an hour after the lecture was over, happened to be standing on 8 canal bridge, look. ing sadly down into the water. Although I heard no footsteps suddenly became conscious of presence. Looking up, ] saw standing beside me slender form, whose face in the dim starlight seemed to be an unusually sad one.
 "Pardon me-" he said, "I saw you looking dreamily into the water as if you might be poet, or perhaps coro. ner, and WAS attracted to your side. Has misfortune overtaken thee, or art thou thinking of lost one-or two, or a nearer one yet, and dearer one still, in the shape of VI"
 I explained that had lost no money, and during the course of the conversa- tion revealed the fact that was local editor.
 It must be 8 terrible strain on the intellect to attend to the duties of lo- i cal editor," he remarked, tenderly. "Long, long time ago had relative 1t IS family tradition-who was local editor. He succumbed to his tremen- dous intellectual exertion at an early age. Noble soul, he died in the harness at all events stub lead-pencil and an old notebook were found in his coat-tail pocket after his demise. His last words were, Set 'em up again. alluding, you understand, to the type"
 to my heavy editorial responsibility, but Ward checked me by asking:
 "What creek is this ?"
 "Creek r exclaimed, "why, this is the Erie Canal P
 How far is it navigable p
 "Why, of course it is navigable from one end to the oth CT, was my surprised reply; ,, ;,
 well, SOl6mQly r0pu6Q WAfO, that beats ali the streams ever heard of. By the way, l think I can make out some large boats anchored up the stream there-what are they, propellers or side Whe elers ?"
 I replied that they were merely canal. boats, and were moved by horse power "Ah I didn't think the stream was as shallow as that" said Artemus.
 "As shallow as what p
 "Why, you say those boats are pulled along by horses. Now, of course they must walk along in front of the boat mustn't they? I used to run stone boat on my lamented Uncle Johns farm, and distinctly remember that the horses walked along in front"
 I mentally declared that I had never before met with such ignorance. Ispen some time in explaining the peculiari ties of the big ditch, and just as I ha6 begun to think that at last had set the stranger right on the subject, he knocked my hopes into kindling wood by remark ing:
 "I suppose that when the stream dries up in the summer they put tht boats on wheels, don't they ?''
 Then I began again and explained every feature in the canal from New York to Erie. How attentively he lis tened to my words. I can still see tha melancholy face lit by the sad light O the stars, and those mournful eyes look ing into mine so earnestly and again ] hear, as did then, after I had talked nearly for half an hour, going fully into the details--o boating, the low, pathetic drawl
 "Any saw-mills on this stream that you know of ?"
 Shortly after some gentlemen came along vho seemed to be acquainted witt my obtuse friend. Presently one called him Artemus and then I commenced tc reflect. I always reflect best when Tn hid away somewhere, so went and hid myself. Detroit Free Press.