Barbour County index. [volume] (Medicine Lodge, Kan.) 1880-current, 1889-12-04
ASSISTED The AUTHOR.
How . Printer Inserted . Good Idea Of
His Own and Lost His job.

How Printer Inserted . Good Idea Of
His Own and Lost His job.
A printer told the following excellent
story to Chicago Times man:
81 had good job" he said, Gin q
Monroe street fiction foundry-one Of
those print shops where they publish
stories of the Skeleton Hunters Last
Gurgling Gasp order by the cord. It is
the rankest kind of rot, and is liable to
give a printer blood poisoning II he
handles much of 1t. 1t is the sort Of
literature that induces little boys TO get
up in the night, steal the old mans
pocket-book, buy guns and start out
West to rescue the imperial maiden
from the lair of the robber chieftain
and restore her TO her sgonized parents.
There were twenty printers and six
liars, each q full-hedged Ananias, work.
ing in the place. The liars sat at
table in one end of the room grinding
out those unwholesome stories as fast as
we could put them in type. One day I
got wad of copy that was positively
sickening. 1t was about a lovely girl
who had been captured and torn from
her home by heartless white desperate
and his band of bloodthirsty Apaches.
The girl was in desperate Ak. She
either had to marry the villain or be-
come his wife, he didn't care which, and
he was then on his way to cave in the
mountains, where he was going to have
the ceremony performed.
THAT night they camped in a rocky
gorge two hundred miles from nowhere
and bound the unfortunate maiden to q
tree with the usual buckskin thongs,
which cut deep-into her tender wrists.
Then they all laid down and went to
sleep. In the meantime old Zeke, the
Hairy Scout, who was on the trail,
sneaked up just at daylight, when peo-
pie sleep the soundest. Zeke sailed in
and killed twenty-five or thirty Indians
with the butt end of his trusty rife. He
didn't want to shoot for fear he would
wAken the others. Then, after he had
cut notch for each corpse in his gun
stock and hung the coarse, black scalp
locks to his belt, he released the girl,
hoisted her under his arm, jumped into
the saddle and rode away.
HE rode at full speed for forty-eight
miles without stopping. When night
closed in the bold scout pulled rein and
went into camp. First he picketed his
horse, then built fire, fixed a cot Of
leaves for the girl, and got her some
thing to eat out of his saddle-bags. This
was where got in my work.
"This first thing Zeke took out Of the
bags was several thick slices of fresh
Vienna bread with honey on them.
Next came cold boiled ham, cut thin, an
apple pie with a short, crispy upper
crust, and last tender spring chicken,
roasted a delicate brown. Mind you, he
had all this stuff in pair of saddle
bags in the wilds of the Rocky mount
aims, three hundred miles from civiliza-
ton, in the year of 1880. It made me
sick, but resolved that the poor girl
should have one good feed if l died for
it. So I showed in another paragraph
like this, completing the bill of fare:
latter getting the girl started Zeke |
reached into the saddle-bag and pulled
out bowl Of steaming hot consomme
and broiled fresh mackerel, some dew
lied crabs, cold slaw, potato salad, half
fry, veal outlets Dreaded, with tomato |
sauce, green corn on the cob, some clam
chowder, stewed turkey, a portion of |
rice pudding, two cups Of chocolate,
pork tenderloin, Rochefort cheese and |
a bottle of Bass ale, Saratoga chips, a I
plate of vanilla ice cream, Chinese |
paper napkin, sliced cucumbers, some |
California grapes and a nickel-plated |
nut-cracker.'
ibid 1t go?" asked an interested lis |
tener.
''No, it didn't" said the printer, sad
~, "but did. The boss came to me |
next morning with proof slip and want |
ed to know who was writing that story. |
said the author was making stagger |
in that direction, but he wasn't giving |
the girl fair show.
""That may be- said the boss, but II |
he wants to run cafe in connection with |
the story we'll hire cook and make it |
easier for you
''Then he told me that was too smart |
to be printer, and had better go out |
where the cool air would strike me. I |
went"
Wouldn't Let Walos Kiss Her.