Staunton spectator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1849-1896, 1886-12-22
An Editors Christmas.

This is Mr.. Worthington's story just a
he told it to number Of US one Christina
evening at his house. Mr.. Worthingtol
isn't Mr.. Worthington at all in real life
but a very famous man whose tongue ant
pen carry great weight:
My first journal was country weekly il
Doonville. A ''fiourishing and fearless
journal, was the way my kindly disposed
contemporaries spoke of it in their ''able'
pages. Its name was The Trumpet, anc
| speak only the plainest truth when sa.
that it gave forth no uncertain sound.
was a very young man and very ambitious
l thought knew exactly what a forcefu
weekly newspaper should be, and hadn'i
the least doubt of my capacity 10 construct
and manipulate such an engine of reform
and advancement That is the way of the
very young, God bless them. Before they
have had hand to hand encounter with
life they feel so strong and confident they
believe they can do anything, and this very
belief, mark you, is what makes the phe-
nomenal successes we so often admire snd
wonder at The Spaniards have prov
erb, "He who expects good luck will gel
it" and it is as true sentence as ever was
penned. Believe you can do anything, and
you can, if any one can doit. Success, like
the art of swimming, is largely matter oi
confidence.
I worked very hard on The Trumpet.
was business man, editor and staff. l had
very decided ideas in regard to bettering
the world, and started out with the praise
worthy intention of sxtinguisbing several
giant wrengs," under which plainly saw
that society suffered. We all have the re-
formatory spirit much stronger in us in
youth than later Oh, for the reason, per-
haps, that we haven't fully measured the
strength of our antagonist, the existing
system Of things. was sincerely anxious
to thoroughly represent all verify local
interests. To that end Iscoured Doonville
night and day, and "wrete up" all sorts of
things that never before had been described
by pen, or immortalized in type. WANTED
to wake up my fellow townsmen aud women
to the interests that lay close around them,
and of all things wanted them to proper
| ly appreciate The Trumpet.
intended to issue magnificent Christ
mas number of my beloved journal, twice
| its ordinary size and brim full of the most
| alluring holiday matter could create and
rake up. To perfect that number l almest
| worked myself into decline. Looking
| what beg to be permitted to call mature
common sense, commend myself heartily
for the industry, zeal aud confidence /
nursed into respectable development in
those old, hard working, moneyless days on
The Trumpet.
Among other attractive features for my
Christmas paper I determined to write up
the very poor of Doonville. I could thus
be the means of comforting two benefactions
giving the rich a chance to taste of the
blessing of giving-for it is more blessed to
give than to receive-and also open the way
for the poor to be helped. And on Christ
mas, you know, all hearts are said to be
tendeler and more generous, and many are
glad of an opportunity to do something for
the needy.
Deenville was small place, and go very
prosperous that l scarcely knew where to
60 to hunt people SO poor that dare in
trude upon them and tell their wants in my
valuable and widely circulated paper.
Many of its citizens were very rich, and
2eze whom personally knew knew lad had fallen
below decent and tolerable poverty. But
down below Deon s mills, on the river
bank, were some broken-down houses about
whose doors l had sometimes seen very
ragged and very dirty children playing.
determined to go thither and investigate.
had this thought in my mind as I was
going to office one morning just two days
before Christmas. [ determined to go out
that afternoon and begin the search. l
hadn't gone far when 1 met "Calamity"
Parker. That was what called him when
my speech was without bride, for held
him in great contempt.
He was tall, thin, broken-down Great
bA
about with solemn, unhealthful gait and
distributed religious tracts. He always
seemed to me a frightful. . excrescence on
society, although he had the discretion to
say but little. It fretted my progressive
spirit to see him crawling around thrusting
his weak literature under more intelligent
and buster peoples eyes. "The day and
generation are beyond tracts,' [ said to
myself, ''and here is this threadbare fraud
keeping up this relic of fogyism.' I des-
plsad him SO heartily | could hardly speak
a decent good morning as he passed me.
| think he felt that l dislked him; but he
had cultivated the unctuous affectation of
godliness and an appearance of patience
and sweetness under sights and taunts,
and invariably returned a smile for frown.
That very habit made him destestable to
me.
| began to think about him asI went
along. He had only been in Doonville
couple of years, and had never heard of
his doing anything but distribute tracts and
preach on the street corners down by the
mills. l concluded that it was time he was
abolished. Accordingly my first work on
reaching the office was to write half
column editorial article on religious
frauds" in which the practice Of tract dis
tributing received merited castigation. l
drew picture of the typical tract man, of
which Parker was the model, which wasn't
calculated to make bis path in Doonville
any smoother. This incisive, and l may
say ''able," article, which was certainly a
flaming sword of rig hteous wrath against
the tract fraternity, was to adorn the
Christmas number.
Thsn started out in my search for pov-
erty in self-satisfied spirit. 1t Is delight
full to do something that wins ones own
appreciation. found the row of old houses
all locked and tenantless save one, the last
one and tho worst one. 1t was in state of
dilapidation so hopeless that its owner
hadn't even thought it worth while to shut
it up. The result was that it was tenanted
without his permission having been asked.
A family of dull Drained, salew skinned,
chronieally INDECENT, half dead creatures
who had besn crawling westward in worn
out wagons drawn by dying horses, had
taken possession of it by permission of ne
cessity. They had reached Doonville just
as their horses succumbed to the inexor-
able, and there they were, sick, freezing,
starving and dying in state of destitution
unspeakable.
l saw through the windows that the
house was inhabited, though the only figure
l could see moving about was more ghost
like than human. On pretense of borrow
ing match l knocked for admittance. A
match! such thing was far off, undream-
ed of luxury to the family within. There
was neither fire nor food in the house, and
the wind, the rain and the snow came in
at will through the glasslsss windows.
Haven't you noticed that the very elements
conspire with poverty to make his victims
| wretched?
| A skeleton man sick unto death lay On
the floor, his head on bundle of dry leaves.
Two famished children, ill and feeble, were
on the semblance Of bed in another cor
ner Of the room. A very old woman sat
| helplesS bv the side of the sicl, childrap