The times. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1890-1903, 1893-11-26

think. Is this asking too much Of your
she asked. reaching for her wrap.
l assured her that IL was not, as she
handed me the budget.
Il shall be so grateful" she added. with
an Irresistible persuasiveness. III, then.
you think IL unavailable. Why, just throw
IL in the waste-bssket," casting a dis
courasing glance at that indispensable
utensu.
WAS Ratified.
Her tender look as she left the room
would have melted heart OF stone. A
sudden sense OF my matter-of-fact rough
ness pervaded me. IL was impossible TO
collect my thoughts. l felt the blood
rushing 10 my face. In plain language.
/ was ratified" when the dreamy, liquid
eyes fixed themselves upon me, and
small white hand was cordially extended.
II | squeezed IT a trife more than was
necessary, IL wasn't my fault. For the
first time In my journalistic experience
feared lest / should be writing verses
next.
The following day / found time to re-
view the manuscript. 1t was well writ
ten in clear, legible hand. With any
one else but Helene" (for l began TO
think Of her by this name) l should have
felt like uttering some suggestive epithets.
When unrolled, the manuscript cut any
number OF athletic capers, and one or
two sheets decided TO seek quarters In
another portion OF the room. BY the aid
Of an unabridged dictionary and some ten
penny nails / finally got the obstreperous
pages under control.
The manuscript was twenty-eIght pages.
k.NsN
columns. II was Thanksgiving sketch
one of the most artistic pieces of work i
had ever read.
What do you think OF the stuir?'
asked the Managing Editor, who had long
since taken solemn oath never 10 han
die copy that had been rolled up.
Excellent" said !; 'let me read you a
stick or two about a Thanksgiving din
ner."
This done. the editor heartily agreed
with me. You've read 1t carefully. have
your" he asked.
"Yes"
Hadn't you better cut II DOWN.
l assured him that thought not, and
| after some complimentary eplthets on
| my part, the story was soon IN the hands
| of the devil"
| a little visit from the young lady that
evening helped TO revive some OF the day
dreams l had INDUCED in. 1 was sorry
she had ever come. The bright, sweet face
seemed prettier than ever. She thanked
the editor warmly for speaking kindly
| OF her efforts, received from him an or
der on the business Office for $40. and
| withdrew.
The Ed tors Wild Rush.
1t was 1910 A. NJ The Managing Editor
sat In his big armchair perusing lazily
back number OF the Atlantic Monthly
The corners Of the pamphlet were colored
with age. Nothing could be heard but
the occasional rustling Of papers from two
reporters now and then tearing off sheets
of copy-paper.
The editor frowned, wiped his spectacles
and took another look His eyes assumed
the dimensions of saucers. With a bang
OF the pamphlet on the desk, he made a
mad rush for the stereotyping room.
What the deuce has bappened?" l
screamed. darting after him.
He ignored my query, and In two sec
onds was gesticulating wildly with the
foreman of the stereotyping department
Bring back that last form at once"
he demanded at the top OF his voice.
don't lose a moment"
But It's 1912. and weli lose the first"
"Blame the first edition." shrieked the
little man; have 1t back in two seconds,
i say, and cast another plate"
The stereotyper glared at the editor as
though the latter's sanity was a question
for speculation, while the little man
rushed into the composing rooms supplied
the place of the Thanksgiving story by
the first piece Of plate matter available,
and then followed a spirited race between
the stereotyper and the hand OF the clock
which designated 12:l5. In few minutes
the last plate went rumbling down the
schultz 10 the press-rooms In the basement
You've got To hustle, screamed the
foreman through the tube to the pressmen,
and in thirty seconds was heard the thud
OF the big press below. The first edi-
ton barely caught the l2:5O train for the
South.
The Managing Editor heaved sigh OF
relief as he resumed his seat in the
editorial room. | wondered what had
come over the spirit Of the little mans
dreams. He had never before given
strong evidence Of being a crank. After
the strange doings above recorded / had
my suspicious about his mental equin-
brium.
"Come here" said he In subdued tones.
picking up the magazine he had tossed
aside.
/ glanced at the place designated by the
point or his pencil. Horrors! what
glazing plagiarism. There was my pretty
IDOLS Thanksgiving story almost verbal
tim. l was dumbfounded.
Ever since that night I've steered clear
of authoresses with Madonna faces.
Would you wonder, when I tell you the
entire reportorlal STAFF never loses an
opportunity to remind me OF my mistake
through the doubtful title Of Romantic
Editor?"
ROB G.. HIDDEN.
A Picked In Dinner.