The aegis & intelligencer. [volume] (Bel Air, Md.) 1864-1923, 1893-11-10
misCcl
THE EDITORS VISITOR.
By FRANCIS c. WILLIAMS.

| busy, making out an assignment list,
| when q queer old-fashioned figure of
Il man came into the room and stood
waiting by the side of the desk.
"Well ~ said the city editor, looking
up sharply, after an instant, what
do you want -
Il wanted to know if YOU could
make use of this" answered the new
conner, timidly holding out a small
| bundle of manuscript.
I'm sure we can't unless it's some
thing trifle less hoary with age than
that you brought here the other day
The city editor, who was a compar;t-
| lively young man, very alert, very
quick in speech, and all business, took
the manuscript, unfolded it with a
snap and ran his eyes over the first
! few lines. Then he wheeled his chair
around and said, Strengthening up and
| speaking testify:
Now look here, John Harmon, once
and for all, understand that it's no use
bringing such stuff as that in here,
and | won't be bothered with looking
at it Why, this is identically the
same ancient history you tried to
| shove off on me the other day"
"Rut polished it up!' suggested
| the old man.
'Polished up your grandfather !"
exclaimed the other. why, you
couldn't polish that matter so that it
| would be readable if you worked for
| ever. It's hard luck; but the plain
truth is there are too many young
men hustling for live news to allow of
such back number trash as that being
good for anything but to stop a hole.
| haven't got any more time to talk
| If you get any news, bring it in and |
will look at it Otherwise, stay away,
| please y
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 with
out q 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
presently he went up to the steps of a
small house and opened the door,
The room into which he came was bare
and miserable looking, and everywhere
showed lack of woman's hand to
straighten the few bits of furniture,
which only served by their mean re-
pair to add to the forlorn appearance
of the apartment. The old man
stood quite still, one hand resting on
the doorjamb, staring ahead of him as
if he saw beyond the opposite WALL
AS he stood there, there came a glad
child's cry from the other end of the
room:
"Oh, Gran pop, l glad you come
It's awfully lonesome -
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 OH his cheeks
as he talked to her of the fun they
would have that evening latter work
was done" Alter 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 hun 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 page before
him.
John Harmon was nearly eighty,
"a broken-down newspaper man" he
was called, and his only inheritance
from past days was knowledge of
newspaper writing and little grand
daughter, whose mother and father
had died in fever epidemic few
years before.
The old man threw the rejected
manuscript on chair, then set about
getting 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, kissed the child and went out
again. A publishing house had prom
ised to look over some manuscript he
had left a week or SO before. He was
going there to get their answer. He
comprehended duly that this answer
might mean something to eat, but,
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 inyariable source of amusement
By and by becoming tired, she wan
dered over to the table. The rejected
| oll bllC VIGIL SbuS5LS ~
eve. Gran'pop's papers were forbid
den articles to her, but when she saw
this package and slowly spelled out
the writing on it's cover, 1.-The Chroni-
cle," there came to her mind that
Gran'pop had told her when he was
writing this address the night before
and was too 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. Gran'pop must have forgotten
it! 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 not
she take the manuscript to the Chron
icle g? She knew where the office was
she had been there with Gran'pop
1t would be such a surprise to him tt
fin1 it already gone when he came
home. She decided to do it. She
took the bundle from the chair ano
pulled on her jacket and tied her hooo
:. fast. She was used to dressing her
} self and soon was on the steps, the
manuscript clutched firmly in hel
, hand. Then she started off for thu
Chronicle office, proud of her self-ap
pointed mission.