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

came into the room and stood waiting
by the side of the desk.
" Well,n said the city editor looking
up sharply, after an instant, what do
you want?"
81 wanted to know if you could make
use of this?" answered the newcomer,
timidly holding out small bundle of
manuscript.
Pm sure we can't, unless it's some
thing trihe less hoary with age than
that you brought here the other day."
The city editor, who was a compare
lively young man, very alert, very quick
in speech and all business, took the
manuscript, unfoldeG it with a snap
and ran his eye over the first few lines.
Then he wheeled his chair around and
said Strengthening up and speaking
testify
CHOW look here, j ohm Harmon, once
and for all, understand that it's no use
bringing such stuff as that in here, and
l won't be bothered with looking at it!
Why, this is identically the same an
cient history you tried to shove off on
me the other day"
"But | polished it upp suggested
the old man.
Polished your grandfather" ex.
claimed the other. "Why, you couldn't
polish that matter so that it would be
readable if you worked forever. It's
hard luck; but the plain truth is there
are too many young men hustling for
live news to allow of such backnumber
trash as that being good for anything
but to stop hole haven't got any
more time to talk If you get any news
bring it in and will look at it! Other
wise, stay away, please!o
The city editor faced his desk again,
picked up his pen and fell to work, not
looking at the other. The older man
for an instant stood motionless, then he
picked up the manuscript, put it in his
pocket, and turning away walked slowly
out of the room without a word.
The wind was biting hard outside
and he drew his collar about his ears as
he walked despondently down a side
street. He had not far to go, for pres
emily be went up the steps of a small
house and opened the door. The room
into which he came was bare and mis-
cradle looking, and everywhere showed
the lack Of woman's hand to straighten
the few bits of furniture, which only
served by their mean repair to add
to the forlorn appearance of the
apartment. The old man stood quite
still, one hand resting on the dooriamb,
yond the opposite wall. AS he stood
there, there came glad chid's cry
from the other end of the room.
sob, gran'pop, glad you come
It's awfully lonely"
The old mans face frightened. He
reached down, and, as the little girl
came running TO him, caught her up
and laboringly lifted her to his breast.
Then he kissed her and put her down.
She did not see the tears on his cheeks
as he talked to her of the fun they would
have that evening Latter work was
done" After work was done was the
season when these two had grand romps
together. Work, as little Polly well
knew, meant writing, writing, writing
until she would crawl upon the old
mans knee and beg him TO come play,
and he would drop the pen from his
cramped fingers and let her kiss from
his eyes the mist which would gather
there, when he kept his mind long
fixed on the pages before him.
John Harmon was nearly eighty, " a
broken-doWn newspaper man " he was
called, and his only Inheritance flom
past days was a knowledge Of news
paper writing aud little granddaugh-
ter whose mother and father had died
in fever epidemic few years before.
The old man threw the re ected man
uscIipt on chair, then set about get
ting something to eat for himself and
the child, the little one all the while
chattering to him of what they would
do in the evening. When they had
finished he pulled on his coat once
more, hissed the child and went out
again. A publishing house had prom
lsed to look over some manuscript he
left week or so before. He was go
ing there to get the answer. He COM
prehendtd duly that this answer might
mean something to eat, bnt more likely
keener hunger than ever.
When the child was left to herself
she sat down and fell to looking over
some illustrated papers which were her
lnvariable source of amusement. By
and by, becoming tired, she wan
dered over 10 the table. The re-
Jected manuscript on the chair caught
her eye. Gran'pop's papers were for
bldden articles to her, but when she
saw this package and slowly spelled out
the writing on its cover, "the Chroni-
cle," there came to her mind that gram
pop had told her when he was writing
this address the night before and was
400 busy TO play with her that the
manuscript had TO be sent in tomorrow.
This was tomorrow, she reasoned, and
the manuscript had not gone. Gram
Pop must have forgotten i'll He would
be sorry, she knew.
Presently there came to her bright
idea and she stood very still for mo-
ment, thinking hard. Why could she
not take the manuscript to the Chroni-
Gle? She knew where the Office was;
she had been there with gran'pop. 1t
would be such a surprise to him TO find
it already gone when he came home,
She decided to do it. She took the
bundle from the chair and pulled on
her jacket and tied her hood fast. She
was used to dressing herself and soon
was on the steps, the manuscript
clutched firmly in her hand. Then she