The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1885-07-15
Seletteo Storp.
The Story of a Newspaper.


in its clear, open type and bold head
lines which took the eye of the public.
1t gave, each morning, brief digest of
the news, made by the hand of an ex
pert; a few telling and new Jokes,
chosen by somebody with keen palate
for fun, and short " leader" on some
current topic, direct and sharp in its
aim as the blow of hammer. People
overlooked the fact that the Light was
too poor to belong to the Associated
Press. "The thing cost but penny"
and it was so little, so vivid and full of
fun, so savage in its attacks on corrup-
ton and corrupt men, that the public
was first amused, then curious, then
friendly, or as vehemently inimical. In
either case, the paper sold and made
its mark.
As months passed it became known
as a fighter whose blows told, and even
its enemies acknowledged that thought
on the side of right. Not only did it
wage war against drunkenness, the So
cial evil, and all the other well-known
devils whom it is considered proper to
pummel, but it attacked sham and
wordliness in the churches, as well as
out; it dragged fraud in its own party to
the light; it flew at the gigantic rings
in the city, venerable in age and pres
tige, with ferocity which left its re-
spectacle contemporaries breathless.
cit is like a poodle barking at an
elephant" said one of a party of city
journalists, assembled at breakfast
given for some newcomer.
Who runs it, anyhow"
I" A fellow from the country, named
Birkett. Keen as a knife, but full of
stiff Scotch honesty"
I" He knows his trade"
Yes. He's been born and brought
up in newspaper office"
I" Who is backing him?'
Nobodv.n
What?"
"No. There's no capital behind, ex-
cept the trihe for which he sold the
farm that his father left him. A few
thousands. He told me he always had
theory that a thoroughly honest, fear
less newspaper would succeed without
backing in any American town, and as
soon as he got his little fortune he came
here to try the experiment. He has
managed, with his honesty, since he be-
gan to offend his own party, to make
enemies of the coal ring, the gas trust,
and both the manufacturers and their
hands, the strikers, yet the paper does
sell, as you know"
"I'll give it Just three months"
Hush! there he isl
William Birkett, who appeared in the
social world of p. for the first time that
day, was short, stout young man, with
boyish, uncontrolled manner. His
bald head and grizzled whiskers did not
make him look less boyish. His eager
black eyes told all their secrets, but
tried to read none of yours. He had
an unconquerable love of jokes, and
left a laugh behind him wherever he
turned. Being an utter stranger to you,
he was not only friendly, but deter
mined to be your friend. He wrung
your hand, looked you straight in the
face, left on you the impression that
you had at last found man who would
fight to the death for his wife, his
cause, or his religion. The effect was
stimulating, but uncomfortable. The
conventional man, meeting Birkett,
shrank into himself, and looked for
companion who left him something to
discover The editor of the Light lived
at this time in Federal Place. " An
iC lolNt 10 AL
unmistakable alley, given up to thrifty
carpenters, seamstresses and caterers.
Clean, but not genteel, thank heaven!
Come and see US. You shall have a
chop and bread, and welcome"
Not many guests found their way to
the obscure little house. Indeed. the
Birketts had no time for guests. Mrs.
Birkett, pretty woman from coun-
try town, with a strict training in sec
tartan religion, and an enormous ambi-
ton for " William" wrote the fashion
articles and book notices for the LigM.
Mammon's part of the paper" she
said. You would see the little woman,
in her shabby waterproof suit, at all the
openings of the fashionable milliners
and modistes, taking notes; or at the
church doors, when a brilliant wedding
was going ON inside, to catch a glimpse
of the gowns as the bridal party swept
out.
On Sundays she put on her one pretty
merino and walked, with certain prim
stateliness, to the little church at the
end of the alley, her boy and girl going
before.
About this time several influential
men, won by Birkett's sincerity and
courage, came forward as friends and
patrons of the Morning Light. Chief
among these was Victor c. Pardee, one
of the most energetic manufacturers in
the state. He was the heaviest adver-
tiser in the paper. More than that,
Mrs. Pardee found out the little house
in Federal Alley and left a card for her
Tuesday afternoons.
Flummery' said Birkett, filliping
it into the stove. g / should like to see
you at one of those crush receptions,
Jane!n
Jane laughed, but colored. eyes.
But think I'll call, Willy. On Abby's
account we ought to make acquaintance.
When she is young lady you will not
want her to visit in this alley"
"That child" laughed Birkett. Yet
it was quite true that he had fallen into
the habit, lately, whenever he saw a
richly-dressed young girl, of putting
Abby in her place and lowering her
with costly furs and jewels and liveried
servants. Joe, of course, would rough
it, as he had done. But Abby
A municipal election was at hand.
The whiskey ring, which had long
ruled the city, put forward as its candi-
date an ignorant tool named Frisbie,