The Arkansaw traveler., 1884-11-01
MR. RosrNsois oRABLEY.
CHAPTER |.

 torial room, reading the psoot of . county delinquent tax list He vas not surrounded by the luxuries and evidences of wealth which people of little ex- perience sometimes think environ the life of journalist. Many of his subscribers -or rather few of them, for the weekly Pilg,im of 7isM had not many sub scribers-would have been surprised to know that Mir. Robinson Grabley vas sitting on a stool-bottom chair, with his arms resting on pine table and his feet thrust into slippers with soles made of an old saddle skirt and uppess formed of an old rug that had been Jeff out in the old SC dge field where the circus exhibited :; and, doubtless they would not have re- aected that it required about all of the saddle skirt and very nearly all ot the rug to furnish material necessary for the lib- eral construction which the shoemaker was compelled to place upon Mir. Robin son Grabley's feet The office was a long, low building, with the editorial room in the rear. The editors business predecessor was a grocer, and even in the editorial room, there were still to be seen evi dences of the bacon tor which the farmer had mortgaged his crop. The editor, with the help of a trifling boy whose nose seemed to be sadly out of order, managed to "set up" the paper. The nomadic handler of type metal-the tramp printer-put in an occasional ap- pearance, but always when he was not needed. If Grabley happened to be in a straight, as he termed it, printers were scarcer than truth at "quiltin'," but if he were easy, the foot followers of Faust were as numerous as secret smiles at the burial Of iich relative.
 Mir. Grabley, in reading his proof, had reached section 20. range B, when some one entered the office and began . con- versation with the boy. The tone of his voice, his air of easy familiarity were not to be mistaken. He was a tramp prin- ter.
 How are ye, colonel p entering the editorial room. "How's businessY'
 "We are not rus.aed,' the editor re- piled.
 "l reckon not. It's about that way all over the country. l thought I'd stop here long enough to get some toggs1y." The printer meant clothes. "Dont want to wear this coat any more. l have taken dislike to its superfuity of length. l have taken up the idea that it don't it me. The tail is SO long that it drags the ground and covers up my tracks"
 Then. l should think" the editor re- piled. "that you ought to keep the coat and go into politics. What a politician wants, you know, is something to cover up his tracks"
 The printer was about to reply, when a girl, with pale face and melancholy features, entered. The editor arose and offered her his chair, which she politely declined.
 Are you the edisor?"
 "Yes, miss," with slight air of pride.
 "l have come to sec ii you can give me work. can set type. having learned in my fathers office. l have an aunt living here, and l thought, as have to live here myself, that would like to set type, quite as much for employment as for pay"
 The editor was interested. Any one who proposes to work for employment without placing stress upon pay, imme- diately elicits the sympathy of a country editor. There Is no limit to the employ ment of country printing office, and there is no extent whatever to iss pay.
 "What is your name P asked the ed- tor. taking up prooEsheet that had blown from the table, and weighting it down with an enormous sweet potato.
 "Laura Scantlin."
 Say your father used to run a news paper f' broke in the printer.
 "Yes, sir"
 Being scantlin', should have thought that he had something to do with a saw-mill."
 The editor looked up reproachfully, and would have doubtless expressed his disapproval of the printers remark, but that gentleman, having completed the business of his call, said: sWell, colonel, I'll bid you goodbye I'll take three or four of these old exchanges along. Good morning"
 "So you want to work in this office P said Mir. Robinson Grabley when the printer had gone.