The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1890-03-29

letter from Hearn. The writer expressed
his inability to understand the workings
of Providence because beautiful women,
manly, handsome men and lovely chill
dren had been stricken around about
him on every hand, while he, the I'M
couth in appearance, for whom no hui
man heart would quicken its pulsation
at the announcement of his death, had
been wholly ignored by the yellow reap
er OF deaths harvest. His letter ended
the subject by a suggestion that it might
be possible yellow fever drew the line Of
its acquaintanceship on the plane of per-
sonal appearance, and that he, Lafcadio
Hearn, occupied position beyond the
line.
One incident in Mr. Hearn's reportorial
life on The Enquirer impressed itself
upon my mind so wildly that have
never forgotten it in the slightest.
At the time there was q newspaper
train which left the Cincinnati station
every morning at o'clock for Dayton,
Toledo and the north. 1t was necessary,
therefore, that every line Of copy should
be in the composing room by 2 o'clock
for the railroad edition.
One night there was a sensation of no
small magnitude, and to Hearn and his
pen of horrors was assigned the task Of
preparing it for publication. The facts
were all in his possession by IL o'clock,
and he got down to his task to prepare
the copy. He could not brook interior
ence or foreign presence while at work,
and it was his privilege to occupy desk
in a little back room, both of which were
used in the day time by the late eccentric
G. M. d. Bloss, the only newspaper writer
known to history whose manuscript was
more illegible than that of Horace
Greeley.
The staff of The Enquirer at that time
was filed with writers, every one of
whom had full control of his own manu-
script. There was no "copy editor" but
each writer sent his manuscript directly
from his desk to the foreman of the news
room. Whenever an article of column
and half or more was being prepared
late at night, it was customary to send
the copy to the composing room as fast as
it was ready, so that when the last few
sheets were finished the main body of the
article was in type.
On the night to which / have referred,
Hearn's sensation was to be the feature
of The Enquirer. Three columns had
been set aside for it, and Hearn, though a
slow, careful writer, was expected to fin
ish the task in the three hours from II
till o'clock.
Mr.. Cockerell, however, grew nervous
and anxious as midnight came and
passed and found Hearn patiently bend
ing over his work of love, casting words
of wonder and molding sentences of
lingual liquescency to express the phan-
tasmagoria of his tropical thoughts.
The editor began to look in upon Hearn
soon after he had partaken of his mid
night lunch. First it was an inquiry:
"How are you coming up, HearnT A
came in reply and the face dropped once
more above the task. Hurry it up,
Hearn," was the next interruption.
Hearn bent with still lower attitude
toward his manuscript. "Aren't you
nearly finished?'-this time rather anx-
iously. Hearn squirmed as he answered,
but pegged away at word coming.
"Come, Hearn, close it up! No time to
lose nowr The editorial voice was
somewhat stern and indicated a state of
mind which would brook no opposition.
NEARLY done, Mr.. Cockerell," came TIN
cooling assurance, with nervous tremolo
in the voice.
bent low over Bloss' desk, the perspira-
ton oczing out on his forehead, while
the most fanciful expressions ever coined
were oozing out of his brain and trick
ling down his right arm through his fin
gers over his pen upon the paper, put
ting the finish to one of the most mas
terly reports of sensation ever written.
A half eaten apple lay hard by.
The door opened with jump. Editor
Cockerell came in this time and walked
across to the desk. "Cut it right off
there, Hearn; we must go to press"
was his command. "Only two lines
more" gasped Hearn, as he picked up
the apple and hastily revolved it close
before his eye to select choice bite.
Biff! rattle! Before the bite was selected
the editorial hand sent the half con-
sumed fruit of good and evil across the
room, and Hearn was forcibly informed
that it was no time for fruit while the
presses waited.
Cockerell had his hand on the sheet of
xryLar, 10 -
the bottom to signify "finis." The pen
was not raised from the final effort till
the editor had that last page of manu-
script in his hand and had started toward
the door to carry it to the compositors,
that 1t might be added to the rest of the
article, already in type, as he believed.
"Mr. Cockerell." The gentle voice stopped
the chief. He turned, when to his hor-
ror Hearn lifted the lid of his desk and
said: ''Here is the rest of it,"
Sure enough, there it was-three col
umns of manuscript. Not a sheet had
been sent to the news room, but had
been chucked into the desk as 1t was pre-
pared.
Let me draw the veil or drop the cur
tain, as it pleases you. Every old en-
ploye of The Enquirer who happened to
be around the offices that night will re-
member the scene that ensued. There
wasn't much action, but the technique
was grand. The atmosphere was blue,
hot and full of revolving corners for ten
minutes. As Gus Williams says In his
song, "Oh, such beautiful language"
We cannot find fault with Col. Cockerell
for the words he uttered upon that occa-
sion; words more expressive and hair
raising than any which Hearn had
penned in his three columned sensation,
but they were most piteously powerless
to express the state Of Editor Cockerells
surprised soul.
In the foggy atmosphere of the edito-
rial expression, Hearn escaped. And
when he came back next day to report
for duty he trod with angel steps and
for six hours he was afraid to do more
than think. When he finally met Mr..
Cockerell he was fully prepared to drop
dead. But the editors kindly "Hello,
Hearn. saved his life, and that's how it
happens we have St,iiea ssna S Ss,nasD
to thrill us now.
o. PC.