Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1879-06-21
The BaShful Poet and the Knowing
Young Newspaper Man.

Anybody 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 every knocks at
sanctum door unless he comes on that fatal
errand: Then he came inside and took OF his
man on the staff roared out. In terrible chorus,
"COME NIL" Then he asked for the editor and
when the underlings, with fine mingling OF
and the newest man In the office and yelled
'That's him!" he walked up to the young gem
tleman designated, and before he could unron
his manuscript we knew the subject Of it, and
Poetry, young mann" asked the editor
Yes, sir, )" said the poet. ga couple OF tr1-
clets and sonnet on the marriage OF my Sis
"Oid college friend male or female young
MANI" asked the editor, severely.
IN nM ale ST. ST., said s1d, the f, young man
said it all the young gentlemen OF the stan,
save the young gentleman who personated the
governor, snickered. He looked severe.
eyes, Sir" replied the infant Tennyson. "a
Kind IND Of an idyl' an ode inscribed TO Ny Lost
Love been lost very long. young man.,
asked the journalist, very critically.
"Well, its immaterial, that u.s." stammered
the young man; '.lts inde1ntte-its-"
who Was %rne p of m sa the spOer
but he was instantly frowned down.
,o. Anything more? asked the principal inter-
lOCuIOr, "auy GQl0g more, young mann"
Yes, 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"
"No, sir. never had real brother; its only
imaginary"
Cant take this, then, young man, !" was the
Chilling reply. Poetry, to lind acceptance
with the Haokeye, must be true. Have to
reject this threnody, not because 1t is not very
beautiful, but because 1t is not true. Now, how
much do you want for these others?" And he
skins.
The poet really didn't know. He had never
published before; he had barely dared hope to
have his verses published at all. A few copies
OF the paper containing them, he was sure
on, no." the editor broke in, ooh no, no SIR"
a poem or Sketch is worth publishing, it is
these?"
The poet blushed to the floor with gratitude.
and the young journalist grandly wrote out an
order and handed 1t to the poet.
"Take that to the court house." he said.
land the auditors clerk will give you the
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 it however.
Tne next day the simple minded poet presented
his order to the clerk designated And it was
so that the clerk owed the paper eighteen dol
lars for subscription and advertising, and he
promptly cashed the order and turned it In
when his bill was presented, ard the manager
just charged 1t to the salary account OF the
smart young. journalist who signed the order,
ana me happlest man and the maddest man in
America are living In Burlington. One OF them
Is happy, green, unSOphisticated young ma
chine poet, and the other is wide -awake, up
tosnuf1, know world, get up and dust young
journalist, who Is already rival of Horace
Greeley In some Of the verbal departments of
journalism.-[ burlington Hapkeye.