The Bozeman weekly chronicle. (Bozeman, Mont.) 1883-1889, 1884-10-08
THE NEW REPORTER.
How the New Reporter, Fresh from
Yale, Wrote mp q Picnic.

The new reporter was Yale gradu
ate, could spout Latin and Greek il
any kind of metre, and had the comic
sections at his fingers ends. Tht
toughest propositions of Old Euclid
were as the questions of child to him,
and he regularly went through course
of algebraic exercise before breakfast.
He had been intended for the church,
but his surging ambition sought wider
fields. and he expressed his intention
of erecting lighthouse in the sea OF
literature, by which he would be re-
membered for all ages He longed to
grapple in collar-and-elbow style with
the great questions of the day. and
doubted not his ability to knock out
the knottiest social problem in one
round. Like all great minds, however,
he had to begin right at the bottom of
the ladder, but oft in his peaceful sleep
he dreamed of the time when he should
have reached the highest round, and
groaned aloud as the thought struck
him that there he must remain.
During the first few days of his
novitiate he took in q couple of temper
ance meetings and invested strawberry
festival with degree of hallQwed en-
joyment greater than it had ever en-
tered into the heart of man to believe
that such wild revel could possess.
Saturday afternoon he was told to 90
out to Mistletoe Park and get up q
good half-column report of the annual
sports of the Solid Sons of Solomon.
MAKE it lively" said the city editor.
''You may trust me-" answered the
budding Thackeray, and, making sure
that he had his notebook and good
supply of pencils, he flew down stairs,
three steps at time.
About half-past 9 the busy toilers in
the editorial rooms were distracted
from their labors for q moment by q
sort of idiotic cackle, which proceed
ed from no less q parsonage than
the embryo journalist. He gazed be-
nignly but in patronizing manner on
his associates as he tapped thick wad
of copy which peeped from his breast
pocket. In one hand he carried his
cane with the other he distributed
cigars, of which he seemed to have an
endless supply, to every one he met.
After making several tacks he bore
down on the city editor and deposited
on his desk his bundle of copy with q
stately mien.
'Jus' read that" he said; '.nozzin'
slow about that. Struck out n M own
account. Old shtyle. too monotonous."
As soon as the city editor had re-
covered he commenced to read:
'.Thc Solid Sons of Solomon held
their annual games at Mistletoe Park
yesterday afternoon. The clerk of the
weather was in generous mood, and the
quality Of sunshine supplied left nothing
to be desired. The sparrows and bobo-
links chirped peans of joy, and all
nature seemed in paroxysm of delight
A steady stream of sons and daughters
Of Solomon passed through the gates,
sorely taxing the energies of the ticket
taker, Gus Libby, who keeps a first
class saloon at No. 2009 Fulton street."
(The blue pencil here came into
play.)
Passing through the grounds one
was struck by the general good order
which was found everywhere. This
was due in Il great measure to the
of Officer Muldoon, who
vas on duty. This officer has not
1ccn lone on the force, but he has al
'eady established a reputation which
will soon lead him to promotion
(Alore blue pencil.)
The sports were of most exciting
nature, consisting of races, etc., and
we're under the charges of Billy Field,
he veteran athlete. and Joe Morris,
Who keeps cigar-store on Myrtle
venue, and who stands high in the
'steem of the citizens of Brooklyn as a
dealer and a good fel-
owl
(Here the city editors hair began to
tand on end, and the blue pencil
lropped from his grasp. He read on,
lowever):
''The refreshmen: booth was mar
el of neatness and good taste, and
reflected great credit on the gentleman
n charge. Mr.. Owen McGann, whose
place of business is ut No. 1898 Myrtle
venue. Owen has been in the trade a
rood many years, and is well known
lmong. the sporting fraternity of Brook
yn. 1t is generally conceded that his
took of liquors is unsurpassed in the
country, while his old sour-mash
Did you write all this yourself?"
aid the city editor. with dazed
oo4l.
Every word" said the new re-
orter, rising two inches in hight.
Will it appear Tomorrow"
'.lt will-in the waste-basket. You
'ok tired. am afraid this work is
DO much for you. Take few weeks ,
a few months in the Catskills, !
nd don't come back until we send for