The times. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1890-1903, 1893-11-26
THE ROMANTIC EDITOR.
HOW n MEMBER OF THE TINES Ed
IT0RIAL STAFF cor THE TITLE.
The Girl Was an Orphan and Bewitchingiy
Pretty, bat She Had q Sly Little Way
of Outwitting the Critic.
The clock in the Old Market tower tolls

Managing Editor, thrusts budget OF
edition into great gulping waste basket,
leans back In a creaking armchair for a
moments relief from Chinese chirogra-
piles. deposits one foot on his big desk
by way OF habit, and ventures remark.
But it's only an hour before my last
car" argues the writer. against the re-
quest for a Thanksgiving story.
Then you'd better get to work." adds
the editor. lighting his pipe coolly before
tackling poem destined as a victim for
murder In the first degree.
IT'S a good night for thoughts. Two
attaches of the local STAFF are discussing
in deafening tones whom the Legislature
will send to the United States Senate;
two more are recklessly agitating the
question of how much salary reporter
ought TO draw; the telegraph editor is
announcing in his emphatic style the re-
suit OF some military manoeuvres in for
eign lands, while a side view Of a cake
Of ice looming up from the top Of the
water-cooler suggests that few more
pounds of steam turned on from the en-
CINE room would be acceptable to the
conditions IL my story doesn't please you,
gentle reader, console yourself with the
assurance that every word Of II is true,
and let that count as something.
a Fair Visitor.
Some queer things take place in this
office. You might call it a sort Of jour
naistic curiosity shop Though away UP
five stories from the ground every speci-
ms n humanity
stairway, and some rare pieces of manu-
script get prominent places on the copy
hook now and then. Twas the second
day before Thanksgiving Of last year. A
young lady stepped timidly into the Office.
She had soft blonde hair, fair, dreamy
cast OF cOuntenance with touch OF sad
ness lingering about It, and deep rich
brown eyes that looked you through and
through.
what a beauty whispered a reporter
from the corner, as the girl entered.
There seemed TO be a certain magnetic
influence about her. She was evidently
embarrassed and a modest little flush
spread over her cheek when five heartess
newspaper men dropped their pencils
simultaneously on their respective desks,
and gazed at the visitor with a kind OF
curious admiration.
Pardon me for intruding," she SAID
in a musical. southern voice, lis not this
the editorial Department.
/ assured her that IL was, in the most
inviting tone l could command, after
winding up a paragraph about an ambu-
lance call, and offered her a chair.
She declined the seat with thanks, and
asked to see the editor. For the first
time / noticed prominent ring about the
eyes. as though the girl had been crying.
9 In hal nd inf ~
stiff paper rolled up tightly and tied with
a piece Of black ribbon.
i Took to Her.
Another aspiring authoress." 1 thought.
wondering how | could prevail upon the
editor not TO reject the manuscript for
/ began to take to the pretty visitor with
a bewitchngly sad face. The grinding
out OF Imaginative literature had always
struck me as a humdrum trade. l had
experienced such torture in judging Of the
merits OF stories turned over TO me for
criticism. that it was at times question
Of unimportant choice between being bored
10 death by Il literary editors lot and
being bored TO death by a 3S-calibre bull
let Either Is said 10 produce an emphatic
preference for the other when 1t is too
late to reconsider.
THE managing editor is out at present.
May ! serve you in any way?'' 1 asked
In a kindly tone.
BY this time the reporters seemed TO
realize that the interview was my per-
sonal property The girl appeared to be
uneasy at their inquisitive glances. They
resumed their work with at least an ap-
parent Indifference. and the visitor was
left to me. Something In my manner told
her that 1 was sympathetic, though she
gave no evidence Of attibuting the fact
10 her beauty.
IF / can see you alone, I shall be
grateful" she said, glancing at the other
writer's somewhat suspiciously.
The news editors sanctum was unoccu-
pied for the time. We were soon seclud-
ed.
Have you a sister," asked the fair
one, fixing her great brown eyes upon me.
YES" said /, feeling the influence of
her gaze more than l cared to admit.
Then you can feel for me-" she con-
tinued, In a melancholy strain, dropping
her long. silken lashes.
The prosaic task Of writing up murders,
divorces. burglaries. not to speak OF law
suits, funerals. and special articles on
politics and finance, had ground most OF
the romance out of my nature. | was
surprised to find myself drifting into the
power OF this fair stranger. Had she ask
ed me to grant any favor within reason,
felt that | could not refuse. But that
manuscript! 1t appeared to be every line
OF two columns in print. / was wonder
ing how 10 find a l0op-hole out OF the
dilemma. when she united the budget.
An Orphan She Was.
Horrors / thought. as the manuscript
INDUCED in some feats peculiar 10
watch-spring; chow the deuce can / ever
pillow through it?'
IF I'm not asking too much" she ven
tured, pretty pink tint stealing over her
brow. will you let me tell you who am?
Twill take only few minutes Of your
time"
She didn't know | would gladly grant
her a two hours interview. l consented
readily 10 the information.
The girls eyes glstened with slight
moisture. A pathetic droop at the cor
ners of the mouth confirmed my opinion
that she was a girl Of sweet and womanly
nature. She brushed back her thick gold
en- hair from a broad, classic forehead.
Her pretty, sensitive mouth, with dimple
or two about the corners, for the first
time showed an inclination to smile. She
threw off her loose wrap. A straight,
1.-THE figure stood before me for moment,
then she was seated.
I was taken back with a vision so out
Of keeping with the cold, mechanical sur
roundings Of prosaic newspaper office,
with its typewriters. scattered exchanges
| cllpped here and there, unread proofs
still smelling OF printers ink, special