The Press., 1888-03-15
A CoNsoLlDATIoN.

them sat on rickety chair, his feet on the table. He was smoking and absently scanning the walls. The sanctum, to his fastidious taste, was not an attractive place, but his friendship for the young editor who was working hard at desk drew him here every evening. On table lay great bound files of the Journal. The dust on them was only disturbed when the editor desired to look up some editorial. The telephone was convenient to the table, and on the wall beside it were some fresco recommendations which might be traced to the ''devil." A big-bodied brass lamp, l with the corpses of hundreds of summer insects glued to it by the exuding oil, stood on the table. Somebody had i'm provised shade by cutting hole in a piece of paper and putting it over the chimney. The muci1age bottle, inkstand and shears were by its side, as if ready to abet each other i'll any undertaking. window opened into back room, and 8 begrimed face appeared at it and called:
 "Copy, sir" This ''sir" was compli- ment only bestowed upon the editor, the ''devii' having no respect for any dignity less than that.
 John Edwards caught up pile of loose manuscript and handed it in.
 "There," he said, "that will run them a ! don't wait for me. I have some things I want to write up for my literary depart ment.
 He threw his head back and paced the apartment, his tall, athletic form seeming l to enjoy the freedom of using it's legs. He l looked around at the dinginess of the room and laughed.
 Shabby place, isn't it, Fulton?"
 'I've just been wondering where on earth you get the inspiration for those fine little criticisms of yours. This place is enough to kill genius. Ever been down at Newtown? The Critic down there has a perfect gem of sanctum. Clean, neat"
 'And flowers, I'll bet hat,' interrupt ed Edwards.
 Fulton laughed. "Not only flowers, wood. Then there's a carpet, Brussels you-and papered walls and pictures"
 John Edwards stood still enjoying the description.
 1T don't know that fellow, but have a great curiosity to. Reading his paper every week, I've formed an opinion of him which your description iustifies. He's not practical in politics, but in everything per taining to literature and good taste, he is unusual"
 Just then a boy entered with an armful of mail. Edwards walked to the table, glanced over it, and singled out paper.
 "Fulton, do you believe in twin souls ?
 1T don't believe in any of those heath. enish fads, theosophy and the like; don't know thing about them, and care less.
 "You're most unprogressive fellow, Fulton. Look here." He bent over the table and held up piece of paper on which were written the headlines, ''The New Craze Buddhism and Boston. The Light of Asia Reviewed"
 ''You see what I intend to write, '" he resumed. "Well, there's a queer literary sympathy between this Newtown Critic man and myself would almost bet tha in this paper, or in next weeks, there vii be criticism on the Light of Asia :" He tore off the wrapper, turned to a cer . tain department, and laughed. "Here i is." He skinned over 1t rapidly. "It Ii so good, he said, ''that l shall copy it en tire, and leave my own article unwritten You see," and Fulton walked around ant resumed his chair, ''this fellow is perpetu ally scooping me on such articles. H comes out two drys before do, and in variably writes on subjects that have il view. Now, if I print my subjects, m. views are so near his own that he vii think I am simply adapting his articles so copy them entire; and my printer . have the impudence to tell me there more Critic than Journal about the paper
 Whats his uame, anyhow?"
 "Irvlng, Washington Irving. He claim to be third cousin of the original, be lieve. Miss Irving, his sister, is a dais of girl. l see her often. I'll tell you
 Edwards, how you can get out of the diff culty,' and Fulton lighted wisp of ps per, held it to his cigar, and made read
 to go. Propose a consolidation to IrN
 ing"
 Edwards rose to his feet, his eyes shir
 "Jove but that's g magnificent ides
 Why did it never strike me? Why, Flu
 ton"
 But that gentleman was already ha
 way down stairs, and Edwards enthusiasI
 took the form of long and minute lette
 to Washington Irving, editor of the Ne
 town Critic, setting forth the inestimabl = benefits that would accrue to that pape
 from permanent union with the Bloom
 vile Journal. "From long acquain
 ance with you editorially," so ran the la
 ter, "I am certain that our united wor ? would result in unusual success. Tn ' wonderful tact and observation manifesto Is in your general articles, combined wit , my practical knowledge, would make th '' Bloomfield Journal paper of the higheI
 class" Then followed financial propos o tiOns, very liberal ones, for John Edward m was the embodiment of iberalitXn both . theory and practice.
 The sixteen hours that elapsed befol an answer came were long ones to the in patient young editor. Finally he brok the seal. A letter, courteous and fiber. in town as his own, concluded thus '' am as highly pleased with the idea of consolidation as yourself. My paper ha always lacked the element that you ca supply, namely, greater practical know edge than possess, having been educate for an entirely different profession, an drifting into this merely by accident agree as to terms in every respect, but cannot consent to be entirely merged int the Bloomfield Journal. The name Critic is better for such paper as oul will be; and, while agree that your cit shall be the point of publication, mus
 refuse to give up the name of my own p' per-" E "Here's 8 how-de-do!" muttered Et wards.
 He laid the letter down and proceede to think. Just then Fulton came up, an
 to him was poured out the dilemma. ' Fulton laughed heartily, too much so
 suit the perplexed editor, who was rur ming his fingers through his hair until z stood as Rtrai0ht as a Vast Point nadaf