, 1879-08-09
A MODEST POET.
ma the Young Editor rI,o had H;. ,,.,
Joke. ret>


anybody could tell what he had. Every man
IN the sanctum knew in a minute. The tim;d
knock at the door gave him clear away at 1he
very start. No man or woman ever knocks
at sanctum door unless he comes on thar
fatai Grand Then he came inside and took
en- his hat and bowed all around the room
When every man on the staff roared Ont in a
terrible chorus, ccme in :" Then he ask ed
Tor the editor, and when the underiings, with
line iningllng of truth and grammar, painted
to the youngest and newest man in the Office
and yelled, that's him." he walked no 10
the young gentleman designated, and before
he could unroh his manuscript we knew the
subject OF It, and deep groan echoed round
the room,
Poetry, young man: ?" asked the editor.
Yes, SIR, said the Iaes "a coupl. of
triolets and sonnet on the marriage of nv
sister with an old college friend"
"Old college friend, male or female Young
man ? asked the editor, severely. -
Male, Sir, said the young man.
He said sir every time, and every time
he said it all the Young gentlemen OF the
statf, saw the young gentleman who person.
ated the governor, snickere,l. He looked
severe.
" Anything, more, young man - he asked.
Yes, sir. replied the infant Tennyson ::
"a kind Of idyl and ode inscribed TO My
Lost Love-"
Love been lost very long, young man .s
asked the journalist, very CRITICALLY
Well, it's immaterial, that is, stamner.
ell the young man. Its indeiinite-it's-"
Ever advertised for it ~ asked the re-
porter. who was writing puff for Slabs
tombstones, but he was instantly frowned
down.
Anything more:" asked the principal in.
terlocntOr anything more, young man ~
Yes, sir, was the hopeful response, "a
threnody III memory OF my departed brother" :"
Brother dead, young man, or only gone
to Sagatown.'
Dead, SIR"
Your own brothcr."
No, sir, never had real brother it's
only imaginary"
"Cn't take tl,is, then, young man." was
the chilling reply. Poetry to find accep-
tsnce with the iIa~Eeye must be true. nave
to reject this threnody not because it is net
very beautiful, but BECAUSE it is not true.
Vow. hoy much do you want for these 9TH
ers - 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
hope to have his verses published at all. 4
few copies OF the paper containing them. he
vas sure
"0h, no, the editor hrlac in, "eh, no !;
no, sir can't do that We don't do business
that way if l poem or sketch is werth pub
fishing, i: is worth paying for. Wop!i sl5
pay yoa for these y"
The poet blasheG tG the hGor with graft
tn e, AID the young joarnal list grandiy wrote
cut Al order and hand it to the poet.
Take that To the court house." he said,
and the aIditers CLERK will give you the
money"
The poe. bowed and withdrew, and with
great r.errinieut the journalists burned his
40 il.a iaI resumed their york.
That WASN'T the funny part of it, however.
The next day the SIM minded poet pre-
scnted his order to the clerk designated And
IL WAS So tina the clerk Owed the paper SIS
for subscription AID advertising, and he
promptly :asiIed t..e O-der aad tGrped It II
w.ieu AIS hl:I MAS presented, and the maIa-
ger just CHARGED II to the salary account OF
the Sil4rt yuung Journals who signed the
order, aud the hapniest man and the maddest
iuan in !.meyit4 are living at Burlington.
u..e Of them is happy, green, unsophisti-
Gated young machine poe,, and the other IS
| a wide-awake, up to snuff, know the world.
get-up- anu dust young journalist, who Is
! already Il rival vi Horace Greeley in some OF
the verbal departments OF journalism. Bur
, Eegtoa Haickeye