Butte semi-weekly miner. [volume] (Butte, Mont.) 1886-1890, 1886-09-22
s'THIRTY WAS IN"
A Newspaper Story That Might Be True
Even if It is Not,


that ordinary human beings have, but one
case is on record Of a man worn out with
hard work, and perhaps some dissipation,
who showed to the few that knew him a
nature more like Il woman's than the blase
newspaper man that he was. writes Luther
Little in the St. Paul Globe. He had his
office at the time in an overhead and badly
lighted room, such as are often mad to do
duty as newspaper Offices in a New Hamp-
shire city. He was the ''telegrarh editor"
on q morning paper. and all through the
evening and early morning hours he cut
the sheets OF manifold, dotted the 'is,'
put in periods, Strengthened thetwirled SEN
fences and occasionally swore about the
operators that made such poor copy. His
name matters not. He had been one OF
the brightest reporters III Chicago at
twenty. Ave, and had worked in St. Louis
and a dozen other cities during the ten
years that followed.
He was ut the time I knew him strictly
temperate, as | afterwards learned, due to
the TACT that while in New Orleans he had
fell in love with q young lady in moderate
circumstances who had promised to be-
come his wife when he should consider him
self in circumstances to warrant such a
step, He never told me OF this. but often
spoke OF preferring to live in a small city
away from the boys, and where he could
save more money. He had a picture OF a
young lady that was always on his desk,
and often in the night his eyes would wan
der from the manifold" and look for five
minutes on the face Of that Of Il sweet faced
girl with dark hair and big eyes that seem
sd deep and liquid.
One night, or rather morning. for it was
nearly time for tha paper TO go to press.
the night editor came in and said; mr..
-, how is the report comingT' The
Western Union kid had just brought in
the last sheet OF copy, and the telegraph
editor replied: Thirty Is in" when the
telegraph operator receiver the last d,s-
patch for the night he writes under it the
Conventional sign, s'aO."l The night editor
said unless thsre was something important
to kill 1t, I r. it was getting late.
Nv friend, with his pencil in his fingers,
ran hastily through it and when he reached
the last paragraph stopped hor and for a
moment turned pale as death, while his
pencil dropped from his fingers. But he
recovered himself in a moment, and in re-
Div to the night editors question, said
YEARLY: There ara two paragraphs-one
on the Beecher trial and another about
some young lady being struck by lightning
in a town in Louisiana. that's ALL.
send up the one about Beecher and Kill
| the other" said the night editor; "nobody
| in this part OF the country cares q d-n
| ahout any u lady being killed 1000
| miles from h%ere-not at this time IN the
morning.
NV friend wrote a head for the Beecher
story and put the rest OF the manifold
naner in his rocket. He put on his coat
with a tired air and left the Office, passing
the police reporter in the adjoining room
with a brief good night.
Next evening he did not show up at the
usual hour, and the night editor swore, for
be had to handle the telegraph himself. 1t
was two days before l saw or heard from
nv friend, and then | had heard that hi
had quit his Job, and ] went to his room
way down on Elm Street. >,
II am moi WELL" he said. Il hadto quit
night work for a while. am about done
up
week, as | made calls on him, it was thu
ssme. He got no better, but said when ht
oot over a bad cold he would be all right
Two weeks later he died. A doctor hRC
attended him, aud said it was a sort o
Quick consumption. In his pocket wa'
found half q dozen letters, one, which Thu
dead nan had evidently written and neg
lected to mail, was directed TO Miss AIMS
E. Clement, New Orleans. was intendin'
to mail it when I came across, among tn,
papers found in his pocket. a bit OF mani
Told copy, on which was written, as neal al
7 can remember it, the following:
'NEw ORLEANS, S.-purirg a sever
thunder storm seyening lightning strucl
house Mrs. f. Cl' ment, number - Csrou
delet street, and lady's daughter, Annie
aged twenty, instantly killed"
That evening | went down to the oftic
where the dead man had worked. A nev
man was "doing the telegraph" and no
body seemed to remember that the dea'
man had ever worked there. The pictur
was pushed oyer to the window sill, an
was covered with dust. It was the pictur
Of Annie, who had been killed by the Dol
that day that the telegraph editor q qul
his desk forever. The picture. vii the lei
ters, we're mailed to tho girls mother, wit
a short notice OF his death; but no on
ever told her the blow that broke the poo
hardened newspaper mans heart was tn
unimportant paragraph that the night ed
tor had ordered killed