The post. [volume] (Middleburg, Snyder County, Pa.) 1864-1883, 1879-08-14
The Bashiul Poet and the Knowing
Young Newspaper Man.

I0ung newspaper man'
Everybody could tell what he had.
Every man in the sanctum knew in a
minute. The timid knock ut the
door gave him clear away at the yer
ry start. No man or woman knocks
at sauctum door unless he comes
on that fatal errand. Then he came
inside and took of his hat aud bow
cd all round the room, when ovory
man on the staff roared ont in tor
rible chorus, CONE IN Z Then he
asked for tue editor, and when the
underlings, with fine miugling OF
truth and grammer, pointed to tho
youngest and newest man in the Of
fee, aud yelled, "That's him ! he
walked up to the young Pentlemar
designated, and before be could uu-
roll his manuscript we knew the sub
ject OF it, and deep groan entered
around the room
Poetry, young man Z asked the
editor.
"Yes, SIR said the poet q couple
of triolcts and sonnet on tho mar
riage of my sister with an old col-
lege friend.
"Old college friend male or female,
young man T asked the editor, SO =
verely.
Male, SIR said the young man.
"He said sir every time, and ev-
cry time he said it all tho young
gentlemen Of tho staff, save the
young gentleman who represented
tho governor, suickered. lie looked
severe,
Anything more, young man 7 he
asked. "Yes, sir, replied the infant
Tennyson "a kind of an ode inscrib
ed 40 My Lost Love.
"Love been lost very long, young
man r ASKED the journalist, very
critically.
Well, it's immlterial, that is.
stammered the young man it's in
deinite--it's--
Ever advertised for it p asked
the reporter who was writing pul
for Slab tombstones, but he was
Instantly frowned down.
Anything more asked thepriu-
cipal interlocutor, anything more
young man ?
Yes, sir, was the hopeful response
"A threnody in memory Of my dc.
parted brother
brother dead, young man, or on
ly gone to Sagertown :
Dead, sir.
Your own brother :!
NO. sir. | never had o rea'
brother its only imaginary
Cant take this, then, yonng mlu,
was the chilling reply. Poetry, L
tiud acceptance with the ilNwkEYE
must bs true. Have to reject thi,
thrcnoly, not because it is very
beautiful, but because it is not true.
| Now, how much do You want fol
these others ana he fingered them
over like a man buying mink skins.
The poet really didn't know. III
bad never published before he has
barely dared hope to have his verses
published at all. \ few copies o
the papers containing them. he wal
sure
on, no. the editor broke in, 'ol
no, no sir, can't do that we don
! DO business that way if poem oI
sketch is worth publishing, it Il
worth paying fOr. Would Sl5 pay
you for these :
The poet blushel to the floor Will
gratitude, and the yonng journals
| grandly wrote out an order anC
, handed it to the poet.
Take that to the court house, u,
said, and the auditors clerk vii
; give you the money.
The poet bowed aud Withdrew
and with great merriment the Jour
nalsts burned bis poems aud resum
3 ed their work,
, That wasn't the funny part OF il
, however. The next day the simple
minded poet presented his order I,
the clerk designated. Aud It wa
so that the clerk owed the plpe
= eighteen dollars for subscription an.
0 advertising, and he promptly clshe
1 the order and turned it in when hi
bill was presented, and the manage
. Just charged it to the salary account
!. of the smart young journalist VIII
, signed the order, aud the happies
, mau aud the maddest man in Amer
lea are living in Burlington. one @
them is a happy, green. unsophistI
, Gated young machine poet. and th
/ other is wide awake, up~to smut
) know .the-world, get-up and dus
D young journalist, who is already
, rival of Horace Greely in some c
/ the verbal departments OF journal
lism.- P,frliuJtou N1rkyyS,