Middletown transcript., 1888-11-15
BOB BURpETrE,s HUMoR.


BOB BURDETTE's HUMoR.
The story of Burdette's touching de
votion to his wife, now dead, is ia
miliar to every one, but the following
recital of his beginnings as humorist
may be new to many. He was at that
time local editor of the Peoria Trans
cript. He had to fill two columns
day. 1t was hard work. Dog fights
were scarce and human beings were
disgustingly sober and peaceable. His
page was dull.
At home was his wife, i'll Of the dis
ease Of which she finally died, and to
cheer her up he stayed at home an
hour or two at noon and wrote i'm
aginary local events of an exciting
nature and read them to her. They
were grossly improbable and funny.
They did not have debilitating effect
on her, but actually made her laugh,
and one day she said Robbie. this
ridiculous stuff of yours is bad enough
to print. Having seen that l survive
it, why don't you try it on your read
ers ?"
He cautiously did so, dealing it out
in small doses. 1t was copied every
where. This had been going on for a
fortnight, maybe, when one day Mr..
Emory, editor of the paper, sent to
Robert, requesting him to come to his
private room. Aha ~ said Robert
rubbing his hands and glowing from
head to foot, "I've fetched him He's
going to raise my salary ~
"Mr. Burdette," said Mr.. Emory,
when the audacious youth was seated,
"two lunatics escaped from the
asylum last week, believe ?"
Eyes, sir !; yes-two-but one OF
them was captured" said the editor
thoughtfully, one-only one. What
became Of the other, Mr.. Burdette ?"
"He hasn't been found yet, answer
ed the jocose youth they're securing
the woods for him."
SIS it not possible that he may be
secreted about the building some
where In your room for instance P'
"Why, no, Mr.. Emory What put
such an idea into your head ?
Have you among your friends any,
body who is driveling idiot, Mr..
Burdette?n
"No, sir, oh, no, sir, 1 think not l''
protested the youth, moving uneasily in
his chair.
"Who might get into the office and
insert. articles without your knowledge
i'm your long absence at dinner for
instance ?"
I" Oh, no, Mr.. Emory, no 5; why do
you ask ?"
81 met an intoxicated man the
other night going down stairs Who
was it ?'
81 don't know, indeed" said Bur-
dette. "We had just bounced him."
"Did he write anything for the
paper clandestinely and surreptitiously
while he was here ?" persisted the
editor.
"Why, no, of course see every
thing that goes in this page"
"Well, then, Mr.. Burdette, who is
it that makes those sickly attempts to
be funny that I see in your columns
every day ?"
Burdette blushed, rubbed some dirt
off his left pantaloons leg with his
right boot and said ; Really, Mr..
Emory, I-you see-I hardly-well-
the fact is-there's nothing avaricious
about me, Mr.. Emory, but I shall
have to claim those myself
"Oh !" exclaimed the editor, feign-
ing surprise, "You? Well, don't do
SO any more. They make me melan-
choly. They are dreadfully lugubrious.
They seem to have emanated from
wrecked brain. You can 20 to your
room, Mr.. Burdette. I wouldn't have
thought it of you. Don't do so any
more. If there's anything funny to be
written, I'll write it myself"
Burdette went home all broken up
He resigned next day and crossed the |
Mississippi. 81 left, "says the humor-
ist, because, sincerely, 1 couldn't
look him in the face after that. I had
been caught in the act and felt like |
guilty thing. milwaukee Journal.