The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1893-07-05

door and in answer to his come in /"
he saw over his gold.bowed spectacles
the diminutive maiden who entered.
He looked hard at her, but she did not
appear discounted. She came toward
him without hesitation and stood with
one little hand resting on the edge of
the desk, the other extended the folded
manuscript.
Gran'pop forgot to bring it down,
so l fetched itl' she explained, her
blue eyes looking up into his puzzled
gray ones.
Now the editor was not man easily
confused, but this was novel expert
ence even for him. In all his life he
never remembered having received in
his Office so small, and at the same time
so confident visitor as this. He
looked at her sharply, almost sternly,
suspecting he was the victim Of some
joke; but her gaze never flinched and
the baby's eyes were not frightened.
He took the manuscript from her grasp
and opened it. There was no solution
of the mystery to be obtained here,
however. The story was some local
history of early days. There was no
name, no mark of any kind to tell who
wrote it or where it came from. Nom
plussed, he turned his eyes upon the
little figure beside him. Somehow, in
spite of the old-fashioned aud much
worn clothes, it suggested to him that
of little one who once had called him
father, aud a kindly smile lit his face.
81 don't know anything about this
paper" he said. :" Who did it come
from?"
"From gran'pop," she ans wered, as
if that conveyed full information.
Yes, but who's gran'pop? 1 don't
remember him."
Why, don't you know him? He's
been here often, and | came with him
once or twice, that's how l knew where
it was"
The editor racked his brain in vain
to think who gran'pop could be.
WE'LL" he said at last, "you sit
down in that big chair over there and
III look over this paper and tell you
what to say to him." Then he wheeled
his chair about and began reading.
1t didn't take long, however, for him
bell on the desk and boy came into
the room. "Send Mr.. Campbell to mel"
the editor said. A moment later the
city editor of the Chronicle entered.
Campbell" said the editor, edo
you know whose writing that is?" and
he handed him the manuscript.
Yes" said the other. It's old
John Harmon's. He brought it in here
this morning and told him we couldn't
nse it. It's all ancient history"
swell, said the other, a bit shortly,
81 it's the kind of ancient history that
the Chronicle wants. Can't you see
that that's local matter that a good
many would rather read than news?
Give it good place on the fourth page
of to-morrow's issue, and I'll try to see
that we have a column of just such
stuff twice week. That's ALL"
The city editor did not see the little
figure in the big chair, and bit discon-
certed at being turned down so sharply,
he took up the manuscript again and
left the room, wondering what was the
matter with the " old man." and how
the historical stuff had come into his
hands.
When he had gone the editor drew a
sheet of paper toward him. Looking
at the little figure in the chair, he said:
l will write letter for you to take
with you and give to gran'pop."
She nodded her head wisely, and he
rapidly wrole a few lines. Then he
folded the sheet, put it in an envelope
and rose.
The little girl slipped out of the chair
and came across to him. Good bye"
he said, laying hand on her head,
" and come and see ne some time
again!" Then he opened the door and
watched her ring the bell and disappear
in the elevator.
The elevator boy was quite deferen-
tial to her going down; but she paid no
more attention to him than before.
When she slipped out of the building
she hurried up the street, the letter in
her haLd. AS she turned the corner
near home she saw Gran pop" Just
entering the door and ran hard to catch
him; but he had gone in before she
came up, so she knocked on the door.
The same instant it was pulled open
hurriedly and the old man, white and
trembling, stood in the frame.
"Thank GCdl" he breathed, drawing
her up in his arms ard burying his
face ia her curls. I" / thought you were
lost"
"No, only been to tn oAcel' ex.
claimed Polly, clinging to his neck.
ITO the ofice Where do you
mean?"
9TH Chronicle office. 1 took thu
writing down there you left on tn chair
and th' editor me letter for you; he
was awful nice"
The old man took the envelope she
held toward him and dropped into
char. With child drawn close against
him he broke the paper with trembling
fingers and read:
The DAILY CHRONICLE,
No, 400 - Street,
John Harmon Esq.
Dear Sir.-We will use your paper on
local history in to-morrows issue. We will
be pleased to have you contribute column
Of like matter as often as you can give it to
u.s. for which we will pay at our regular
space rates. Yours truly.
G, n. HAPGooD, Mandging Editor
There was a mist before the old
mans eyes as he read the last words.
Was he cross, grand'pop?" queried
Dol1u anoiDO tho tpors