The Bossier banner. [volume] (Bellevue, Bossier Parish, La.) 1859-1952, 1893-08-10


When the child was left to herself
she sat down and fell to looking over
some illustrated papers which were
her invariable source of amuse ment.
BY and by. becoming tired, she
wandered over TO the table. The re-
jected manuscript on the chair caught
her eye. Gran'pop's papers were for
hidden articles to her, but when she
saw this package and slowly spelled
out the writing on its cover. 1.-THE
Chronicle" there came to her mind
that gran'pop had told her when he
was writing this address the night be-
fore 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 she
not take the manuscript to the Chron=
icle? She knew where the Office was;
she had been there with gran'pop. It
would be such 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
started off for the Chronicle Office,
proud of her self-appointed mission
The elevator boy was much surprised
and not little amused when she asked
for the editor. He tried to chaff her on
the way up, but she refused to take
any notice of his remarks, if she tinder=
stood them. All her thoughts were on
the top story and the editor. Despite
his fun-making the elevator boy was a
trife impressed, and, thinking she
might be one of the 'old mans rela-
tions, when they arrived at the upper
floor he showed her to the door of the
sanctum and told her to knock. Then
he left her and went back to his post.
The editor was greatly surprised
when tinnid knock sounded on his
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 ap-
pear discounted. She came toward
him without hesitation and stood with
one little hand resting on the edge of
the desk, the other extending the folded
| manuscript.
"Gran'pop forgot to bring it down,
so fetched It'll" she explained, her blue
eyes looking up into his puzzled gray
ones.
Now, the editor was not a f11ah easily
confused, but this was novel ex-
perience even for him. In all his life
he never remembered having received
| in his Office 30 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
J Joke; but her gaze never flinched and
the baby 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
plussed, he turned his eyes upon the
little figure beside him. Somehow, in
spite of the old-fashioned and much
worn clothes, it suggested to him that
of little one who once had called him
father, and a kindly smile lit his face.
II don't know anything about this
paper" he said. WHO did it come
| from?"
"From gran'pop," she answered, 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.
"Well," he said at last, you sit down
in that big chair over there and I'll 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
to decide what to do. He struck hand
bell on the desk and a boy came into
the room. Send Mr.. Campbell to mer'
! the editor said.
A moment later the city editor of the
Chronicle entered.
Campbell" said the editor, ''do you
know whose writing that is?" and he
handed him the manuscript.
Yes" said the other; ''it's old John
Harmon's. He brought 1t in here this
morning and I told him we couldn't
use it. It's all ancient history"
"Well" said the editor, bit shortly,
''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 dis
concerted at being turned down SC
sharply, he took up the manuscript
again and left the room, wondering
what was the matter with the ''old