The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1888-09-20
MORTIMER oLuesroN's wooINe.
The Condition on which Beautiful Ca
lista Bellamy Became His Wife.

The Condition on which Beautiful Ca
lista Bellamy Became His Wife.
From the Chicago Tribune.
"Calista Bellamy my happiness is in your
handsr'
Mortimer Clugston. who uttered these words,
was the editor and proprietor of the Doodleville
YeLrer He had pleaded his suit with an earn
estness that had broken collar-button and
nearly loosened a front tooth. and as ne STOOD
awaiting the young lady's answer he could dis
tinctly feel the interest growing on the note OF
SIG 49, due in one month, which be owed to that
accommodating gentleman in Chicago VINO
kindly edited the outside OF his paper Tor MN;
Gathering coura g from her silence he broke
out again:
"Caiista. your manner leads me to hope. May
promise myself that you will fill the chasm in
my life that-er-yawps for you? A bright fu-
ture may be yours, Calista With you by my
side as an assistant in an editorial career, as a
proof-reader, as a helper in folding papers
Thursday afternoon, making up mails, doing up
single wrappers and looking after the accounts
OF delinquent subscribers l could make the
Yelper even greater power in the land than 1t
Is now,
Mr.. Clungston," said Miss Bellamy, may l
ask you what the circulation of the Yetper is?"
About ], 200, Miss Caista."
Il am not the press agent Of circus and
menagerie, Mr.. Clugston," replied the young
lady. II am not getting up newspaper dlrec-
tory, nor trying to make a contract with you
for advertisinga patent clothes wringer. You
can afford to tell me the truth"
'Of course o ~ mean 1000 in round num-
beers. My actual circulation is 1856, but 1T is
growing every day. Miss Calista. | work on
three quireS more than the Jasper Herald Of
1mcrtcon Liberty does, and he claims 1900. In
less than year you and could make even the
circulation of Doc Reeves Pinhook Jig0er look
mighty sick"
Excuse the question, Mr.. Crugston, but
have you paying advertising patronage :"
Advertising? There hasn't been an issue Of
the YeIDer for three years that has had less than
81 so worth of pay locals for SCOTS emulsion
or codliver oil inserted next TO pure reading
matter on the editorial page. | have trunk
full OF due bills from sewing machine compa-
MES. organ manufacturers and proprietorS of
patent windmills to apply on the purchase of
those articles when want to buy them; and out
IN my coal sned have patent medicine enough,
paid for in advertising, to kill regiment
of Bengal tigers. | always travel on a
railroad pass, good anywhere between Saluda
and Harker's Corners l never get less than
seven complimentary tickets whenever a circus
and meDagerie comes to DOodlevile, and every
wedding in the neighborhood brings me in a
box of assorted scraps of cake. tell you, Miss
CaliSpa, the Yeiper is humping itself along in
more ways than advertising Some of my edi
torals have been copied into the Brimfield Tom
dhGck and Eureka Thhndertot, and pro-
nounced the ableSt articles on chinchbugS in
corn and the moral Influence OF woman In poll
ties that have been prloted in any of the papers
for miles around; and | have been prominently
mentioned as a candidate for the position of
Hr"-g''e 10 tue ulSIIlcI rouge OIL OOou Ieul-
plars."
81 am not insensible to the distinction you
offer to confer upon me, Mr.. Clugston," said
the young lady softly. Il will be your wife on
condition that it shall not be part of my duty
to wash the Office towel"
Wash the Office towel, Calistal" exclaimed
Mortimer Clugston, as his hair rose straight up
on end in paroxysm of anazement, I'VE never
wash it, so help me Benjamin Franklin? When
it isn't in use for breaking kindlings or prop
ping up window it always stands behind the
door o, Calista. Are you mine at last?"
The neighborhood cats walled delriously
their touching notes of despairing love and
defiant hate, the pensive frogs in the adjacent
pond discoursed monotonousty in Volapuk, the
belated Bellamy COW bawled loudly her pur-
pose to stand at the gate of the barnyard and
blaspheme until somebody came to let her in,
and upon the ear of the miId-looking old lady
who was listening at the keyhole of the Bellamy
parlor there smote a sound like unto that
which 10 made by retirel squash colliding
forcibly with the side of a brick house.