Mineral Point tribune. (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1869-1938, 1879-07-02
Poet and Newspaper Man.
Durdet,e

Auy oooS could tell what he had
Every man IN the sanctnm knew raa.
minute. The timid knock at tho ~
gave MIN clear away at the very 0,aS or
NO man or woman ever knocLS =. y
sanctum door unless he comes on -
fatal erraud. Then he came ins;da .ua,
took of his hat and bowed all ronoI a ~
room, when every man on the stag
roared out IN terrible chorus. "C1m n
in!' Then he asked for the editor ' ans
when the underlIngs, with fine m; Sla
ling OF truth and grammar, pointad 3
tae youngest and the newest man i, ~
office and yelled, That's bimr ' lie
walked up TO the young gentlemen ~ ne
slgnated, and before he could nnrnll &c;
manuscript we knew the subject Of us ~
and deep groan echoed around ,hs
room. '"e
Poetry, young MANI asked tho "a
itor. GU
"Yes, sir" SAID the poet; "connlo oe
trlolets and sonnet on the Maria
OF my sister with an old college fr;ana9
"Old college friend male or femai.
young MANI asked the editor, sever
ly. S0'eie-
male sir" said the young man
He said "sir" everytime. and ouo
time he said 1t all the young gentlemen
of the staff, save the young gentIemen
who personated the Governor, snicker.
ed. He looked severe.
Anything more, young manpp bo
asked. Eyes, sir" replied the infant
Tennyson; "a kind of an idyl, an ode
inscribed TO My Lost Love-;
Glove been lost very long. vop,o
man?' asked the journalist, very critic,
ally.
"Well, its immaterial, that ISL SIAM
mered the young man; Its Indefinite
its"
Ever advertised for it," asked inc
reporter who was writing a puff for
Slabs bstoies, but who was instant.
ly frowned down.
Anything 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"
"Your own brother? ?"
mo, sir. | never had real brother:
it's onlv imaginary"
Cant take this, then, young man.
was the reply. Poetry, to find accept
ance with the Haukeye, must be true.
Have to reject this threnody, not be.
cause it is not Very beautiful, but be-
cause it is not true. Now, how much
do you want for those Others ?" And
he fingered them over like a man buy
ing mink-sklns.
The poet really didn't know. He had
never published before; he had barely
dared TO hope to have his verses pub
lished at all. A few copies of the paper
containing them, he was sure
'On, no." the editor broke in, ooh
no, no sir, can't do that; we don't do
business that way; if poem or sketch
is worth publishing, it is worth paying
for. Would SIS pay you for these !"
The poet biushed to the floor with graf
itude, and the young journalist grandy
wrote out an order ana handed 1t TO the
poet.
Take that to the court house." he
said, land the auditors clerk will give
you the money"
The poet bowed and withdrew, and
with great merrlment the Journalists
burned his poems and resumed their
work.
That wasn't the funny part of it, how,
ever. The next day the sim ple-minded
poet presented his order to the CLERK
designated. And it happened thathe
clerk owed the paper SIS foI subscnp'
ton and advertising, and he promptly
cashed the order and turned il in when
his bill was presented and the manager
just charged it to the salary account OF
the smart young journalist who signed
the order, and the happiest man ana
maddest man in America are llv ng III
Burlington. One of them Is happy
green, unsophisticated young machine
poet, and the other is 4 wlde-awake, up
to-snuti, know-lhe. world, get-up-aEd-
dust young Journalist, who is already
rival OF Horace Greeley in some OF lhe
verbal departments of journalism
atlanta Constitution: We think our