The clarion. [volume] (Jackson, Miss.) 1883-1888, 1884-09-17
THE NEW REPORTER.
Hoy the New Reporter, Fresh from
Vale. Wrote mp Picnic.

II
The new reporter was Yale gIs-sill-
ate, could spout Latin and Greek in
any kind Of metre. and had the comic
sections at bis fingers ends. Inc
toughest propositions Of Old Euclid
were as the questiens.ef q child to him.
and be regularly went through q 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
noYitiate he took in couple of temper
ance meetings and invested strawberry
festival with degree of hallowed en-
ioyment greater than it had ever en-
tered into the heart of man to believe
that such wild reYel could possess.
Saturday afternoon he was told to 60
out to Mistletoe Park and get up a
good half-co.umn report of tho 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 a good
supply of pencils, he few down stairs,
three steps at time.
About ilaf-past 9 the busy toilers in
the editorial rooms were distracted
from their labors for moment by a
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 9
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:
.|The Solid Sons of Solomon held
their annual games at Mistietoe Park
Yesterday afternoon. The clerk of the
weather was in a generous mood, and the
quality of sunshine supplied left nothing
! to be desired. The sparrows and bobo-
links chirped peans of JOY, and al
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 first
class saloon at No. 2009 Fulton street. .
(The blue pencil here came intc
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
watchfulness of Officer Muldoon, who
was on duty. This officer has not
been long on the force, but he has al
ready established reputation which
will soon lead him to promotion. "
More blue penciL)
1.-The sports were of most exciting
nature, consisting of races, etc. and
were under the charges of Billy Field,
the veteran athlete. and Joe Morris,
who keeps n oigar-store on Myrtle
avenue, and who stands high in the
esteem of the citizens of Brooklyn as q
conscientious dealer and a good fell
low"
(Hero the city editors hair began tc
stand on end, and the blue pencil
dropped from his grasp. He read on,
however,:
THE refreshmens booth was q mar
vel of neatness and good taste, and
reflected great credit on the gentleman
in charge. Mr. Owen MeGann, whose
place of business is ut No. 1898 Myrtle
avenue. Owen has been in the trade a
good many years, and is well known
among the sporting fraternity of Brook
lyn. 1t is generally conceded that his
stock of liquors is unsurpassed in the
country, while his old sour-mash
whisky"
"Did you write all this YOURSELF"
said the city editor, with dazed
look.
Every word.'' said the new re-
porter, rising two inches in hight.
evil it appear tomorrow"
1T within the waste-basket. You
look tired. l am afraid this work is
too much foE you. Take q few weeks
"a few months'-rest in the Catskills,
and don't come back until we send for
you. "-Brookiyl Eagle.