News and citizen. [volume] (Morrisville, Vt. ;) 1881-current, 1888-11-08
BOB BURDETTE'S HUMOR.
How He was Sat Down Upon When
He First Began TO Write.

Robert J. Burdette-Bob-ha just
been licensed to preach by the Philadel-
| phia Baptist Association, and will soon
| leave the lecture field. He says he
| preached his first sermon one summer
! Sunday while he was spending his vaca-
ton i'll some mountain retreat. The
little church there was without pastor
and he took the pulpit at the earnest So
licitation of its members.
The story of Burdett's touching devo-
tion to his wife, now dead, is familiar to
every one, but the following recital of
his beginnings as q humorist may be
new to many. He was at that time
local editor of the Peoria Transcript. He
had to fill two columns n 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 imaginary
local events, of an exciting nature and
read them to her. They were grossly
improbable and funny: They did not
have a 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 survive it why don't you try
it on your readersl"
He cautiously did so, dealing it out in
small doses. 1t was copied everywhere.
This had been going on fortnight
maybe, when one day Mr.. Emory, editor
of the paper sent to Robert requesting
him to come to his private room. "Ahal"
said Robert, rubbing his hands and
glowing from head to foot, 'Tve 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, 1 believe 7"
eyes, sir; yes-two-but one of them
was captured"
zone was captured" said the editor,
thoughtfully, fone-only one. What
became of the other, Mr.. Burdette 2"
"He hasn't been found yet" an
swered the jocose youth; "they're scour-
ng the woods for him." -
"Is it not possible that he may be
secreted about the building somewherea
In your room, for instance ?"
"Why, no, Mr.. Emory What put
such an idea into your head 2"
"Have you among your friends any
body who is driveling idiot, Mr.. Bur
dette2"
ono, sir; oh, no, sir, 1 think not p
protested the youth, moving uneasily
in his chair.
"Who might get into the Office and
insert articles without your knowledge,
in your long absence at dinner, for in
"Oh, no, Mr.. Emory, no; why do you
ask ?"
ST met an intoxicated man the other
night going down the stairs. Who was
it I"
81 don't know, indeed" said Burdeto.
"We had just bounced him."
"Did he write anything for the paper
or surreptitiously while he
was here? persisted the editor.
"Why, no, of course; L see every
thing that goes in this page"
"Well, then, Mr.. Burdette, who is it
that makes those sickly attempts to be
funny that see in your columns every
day2"
Burdette blushed, rubbed some dirt
off his left pantaloons leg with his right
boot and said: "Really, Mr.. Emory, l.
you see-l hardly-well-th fact is
there's nothing avaricious about Inc. Mr..
myself" '-'''0
"Oh2" exclaimed the editor, feigning
surprise. "You2 Well, don't do so anY
more. They make me melancholy.
They are dreadfully lugubrious. They
seem to have emanated from q wrecked
brain. You can go to your room, MIR.
Burdette. l wouldn't have Thought il
of You. Don't do so any more. If
there's anything funny to be written,
III write it myself"
Burdette went home all broke up.
He resi- gned next day and crossed the
ist, becnuse, sincerely, I couiciu Z Ios,JJc
him in the face after that...F4 l,r4z,,es,S-
caught in the act and felt like o guilty