The Osceola times., 1885-05-23
DEMOCRAT OFFICE,
J. n. GLIDING.


We follow them into the little cramped
room, the "Sanctum," but, being fire.
quent visitors here, our presence at this
time is Of second consideration to that
of the gentleman and lady who have
proceeded us.
my name is Worth; this is my
daughter Effie. She is anxious 10 see
how you set types We live In St
Louis, and have happened in your little
village for the day. Ellie has never been
in a printing office before now, though
sou may think it strange. Is St Louis
Is full Of them.
Our editor. reporter, foreman and
chief compositor, all in one, bowed
KINDLY to the visitors, and, being very
busy with . circus agent, dismissed
them into tho care Of Fun, as above
noted.
Fun came forward bravely, and
again rchearscd the formula of .'show-
ing visitors" through the Democrat of
ice.
There was not much TO show. The
old-fashioned press that would. In time,
shown. The little "grasshopper," nov-
city job press, perched on one end Of a
shoe box, the one composing stone"
with the paper "forms,' then the two
consumptive "type racks" where the
eases were laid. A picture of Abra-
ham Lincoln and some horse bills orna-
mented the walls, while the Office towel
stood in one corner-in mourning.
But perhaps the Oldest piece of furni-
turc- poetic licensel about the Office,
was Fum-himself. And while he is
explaining the mysteries Of the "art
Preservative" to our visitors, we will
know some Of his history, for he has a
little one-and yet, greater one TO
come
The winter Of 1856 was bitterly cold.
it was one of the toughest days Of that
winter-early in the morning-that Mr..
J. M. Gliding, the new proprietor Of the
c Democrat, walked briskly down
the streets of H. Stopping at a
livery stable he called out to half
frozen. ragged boy who was feeding
the horses "Jump around, FUN; help
me harness Dave" I've gota tough
drive to c. to-day. BY Jove, Fun,
Is that all the clothes you've got? It's
an outrage that Weeks don't treat you
better. You are nearly freezing. boy"
well, sir, l do my best to please
him; but he's drunk most of his time
and then l catch it. have thought to
run away. Say, Mr.. Gliding. won't
You take me into your Officer I'll work
so hard, and try to earn my board"
And then the poor, shivering lad
broke into fit of weeping.
Mr.. Gliding looked compassionately
upon the boy. He knew the boy was
leading hard, degrading life. Left an
orphan, and bound out" to John
Weeks. . rough, incorporate fellow;
Fun was, indeed, traversing thorny
road. But, however much our kind
hearted editor pitied the boy, he him
self was too poor to add another burden
10 his now heavy load.
He had but recently purchased the
u Democrat, and, against much OPP
position, was endeavoring to make n
living from It. He had not as yet
moved his family to c., but drove
down with his little black horse
"Dave" hitched to the funny old bug
", every day, from H.
well, well. Fun; don't cry" said
Mr. Gliding. gently, as he stepped into
the buggy and took the rcins, "I'll see
what can be done Be . good boy, and
may be We can see what we can see"
And he drove briskly away.
"Wal-, what'n thunder you bawlin'
about, nowe' And old John Weeks
came lounging up to the stable. ..Hain't
ye got them horses fed yitP I'll give
ye ten minutes to clean up the stalls
10. and il ye amt through agin' l git
oack-wal, ys knepr'
FUN watched bis tyrant disappear
sorou6h the door Of the nearest saloon.
~ picked ~ ths hay-foek mschsniqoh