The true northerner. [volume] (Paw Paw, Mich.) 1855-1920, 1885-09-03

Club, talking of things connected with
their business, and changes that had
taken place in the last decade, when
one of the editors turned to a middle
aged man whose hair was originally
red, but who had not much left to show,
and said:
@But the greatest change of Ill has
come over this dude, boys. Ten or a
dozen years ago he was one of the red
hottest writer's in the West, always
warming it to political enemy or any
body who was prominent. The paper
he edited was chronic grumbler, never
could see any good in anybody, and to-
day he is publishing a successful paper
which is full of the greatest kindness to
all the people, and never says thing
that could offend the most fastidious. /
have often wondered what made the
change. Speak out, old man, and tell
u.s."
The rest of the crowd insisted on
knowing what had caused the change,
SO the warm-haired editor said, after
lighting cigar:
SWELL, boys, if you insist on it, here
goes. Heretofore, when anybody has
in my style of writing, l have said that
1 found the new way had the most
money in it. That is true, but that Is
not the cause of the change. AS you
we'll know, my early editorial experience
was of sensational nature. 1 was en-
ployed by those who seemed to delight
in making enemies by saying mean
things, and when went in business for
myself the habit followed me. knew
L could write as mean things as any
body in the business, and my greatest
delight was to have some other newspa-
per pitch into me. had chip on my
shoulder constantly, to speak tigurative-
ly. and was aching for some one to
knock it of, or tread on the tail of my
editorial coat. To think of it now, /
must have been one of these smart
Alexis we read about. 1t was rot safe
for an editor to allude to me In his pa
per, for / would say something mean
or sarcastic that would make him my
enemy. / gloried in quarrels, and when
/ went to an editoria i convention half
the editors were not on speaking terms
with me. In the town was living in the
editors were all by the ears and wouldn't
recognize each other on the streets. 1t
was constant fight, and the idiot who
runs the opposition sheet over the way,
or the Predetermined lunatic who, in
his sane moments, contracts to pay his
board, and stands off his landlady when
in his normal condition. etc. Life was
one continued round of newspaper
quarrels, and don't believe L had a
friend in the profession, unless it was
somebody / had not got around to in
my general abuse. One day my little
1S-months-old baby was taken very
sick, and for q week i was constantly
at his bedside, and those 1 would nat
urally have abused got rest. Finally
death took the little one away, and l
was completely broken down. During
the interval between the death and the
funeral / thought over my course, and
how mean had been to everybody, and
1 would have given the world if could
have recalled some of the mean things
/ had said of my neighbors, and L for
gave everything that had been said
about me. The next evening picked
up paper Published by one of my
rivals, and there was such touching
notice of the death of my baby that
could have Rugged the idiot who ran
the opposition sheet Not a word in
the article but would convey the i'm
preston that the editor was my dear
brother, and there was wealth OF sor-
row and coincidence expressed for those
who mourned. Other papers, whose
editors 1 had abused, spoke in even
more kindly terms, and when the
funeral occurred there were three of
the men to whom / had been the mean
est, acting as pall-bearers, AID ten
DERBY conveying the body of my baby
to the dust. At the close of the exer-
cises they all shook hands with me, and
there were genuine tears in their eyes as
they saw my agony. AS pressed their
hands harder than L ever pressed
mems hands before or since, they knew
better than could have told them that
all animosity had entirely passed out of
nay heart, and that was their friend
forever after. When 1 could do so
without breaking down completely,
called upon them, and though nothing
was said about the past, they knew and
knew that my work as newspaper
fend was over. From that day, gentle
men, have tried never to write an ar
ticle that would cause pain to any man.
woman or child on the face of Gods
green earth. l have made many per-
sons happy in the years that have pass
ed since the day that my journalistic
enemies lowered the body of my baby
into the grave, have written much that
would amuse, but never word that
would harm, or cause q heart-ache, OF
make any person sorry it was written.
Now, instead of enemies everywhere
who would do me an injury, 1 have
friends among all the people that ]
know, from little children to the gray.
haired fathers and mothers, and that
kind of literature pays. because it las
brought not only friends but money in
plenty. Now, there are no persons
am prouder to meet and greet than the
idiots and demented fends who pub.
iished alleged papers over the way
That is the cause Of the change in my
style, the death of my baby, and the
kindness received at the hands Of
those had abused" And the red-haireC
man lit his cigar. which had gone out
and went out onto Clark street, think
ing deeply, leaving the other editors
with tears in their ewes also THINKING