Phillipsburg herald. [volume] (Phillipsburg, Kan.) 1882-1905, 1884-05-29

tomorrow and price their curtains"
That night the Great Arcade block
burned to the ground. The city editor
was away, one reporter was sick, and sew
eral others busy on matters that could
not be neglected. | cut the missionary
gentlemen off with as few words as pos
sible. and allowed General Snodgers and
the tariff question to rest In the dim re-.
zion of unintervieWed security. All our
energies were bent on making a report
OF the fire that would do our paper credit.
But nothing seemed to go right. In the
first place, old Anthracite, the chief ed
itor, had just come home from a trip to
the. South, and being afraid that his man
aging editor was getting too much credit
for the prosperity of the paper, decided
to show the reporters that he was still
master of the situation. An hour after
the fire was under way, and when the
reporters began to drop in with their
fragments of news to dove-tail into a
graphic account, the old gentleman hus-
tied into the room.
"Where's Jones?"
"He is off for the night"
''Whatl How dare he, the city editor,
go off when the biggest block in the city
| is on frep'
It was suggested. that the city editor
when he made his plans.
Then old Anthracite turned on anoth-
er tack.
"Who's filing his placer"
"Mr. Smith"
ooh! Well, Smith, do you know that
there is big fire up street,"
"Yes, sir. We are covering it"
"Do it well. Don't let the Jupiter
scoop us. If the Jupiter has two col
umns, I want four. If the Jupiter. has
four columns, want eight. Now, sir, go
ahead and do your best" And he stalked
out of the room without suggesting how
the information touching the Jupiter s
purpose was to be obtained in advance
of publication. This is the Anthracite
idea of news-by the foot. He belongs
to newspaper class not yet extinct, but
happily rapidly becoming So
It was night of vexation in ways
needless to describe here, but affairs had
shaped themselves into success by press
time. But the Ashtabula Farmer and
his ghost were still in the weird land OF
imagination when | crept quietly into
my house at daybreak. had given nei-
ther thought, and instead of reaching
out for new worlds to conquer, was
thankful that had steered safely through
the fire, Anthracite and other dangers OF
the night. My wife opened her eyes as
I entered, and murmured "and how
about the ghostw
The whole matter of that unwritten
story rolled over me like a food. Know
ing that even the justification which my
conscience could clearly allow would Gre
ate only disappointment, 1 foolishly
sought refuge in anger, and GROSSLY an
swered, "confound the ghost, and the
story, tool"
She made no answer in words, but the
arm that lay around my neck when | fell
asleep on other mornings was not lifted
to its accustomed place.
Before going home on Monday noon /
said "We will get that sketch out Of the
way soon, my dear"
Never mind it now," she said. "You
have work enough and worry enough
without it."
at will go, all the same" said, and
meant it, too.
Five days later was given q half-hOl-
iday, work running light and all the
space of the paper being in demand in
other directions. I rushed for car, was
soon home, and hurrying into the house
caught Mary in my arms and shouted
81 am free now, and we will go at it i'm
mediately-"
$50 at-?'
'The story, of course. Hurrah for the
curtains!"
She placed her arms around my neck
looked up with half smile on her lips
and tear in her eye, and said in whis-
per: "Never mind the story now, Jack
The limit of time allowed by the pub
fishers expired yesterday" Chicago Cur
rent.