The Neihart herald. [volume] (Neihart, Mont.) 1890-1901, 1893-10-07
THE FATE OF A LOVE LETTER.
Hard Hearted CompOsitors Make Merry
Over the Effusion of a Reporter.

Hard Hearted Compositors Make Merry
Over the Effusion of a Reporter.
One Of The Herald men is in love. His
name is withheld for reasons which ap.
pear later IN. Some three weeks ago he
wrote a letter to his inamorata. 1t was
a long, warm, typewriter letter, taking
up about eight of the big sheets that are
used on the writing machine. Being
suddenly called away or a hurried as
signment, he left his screed, rather care,
lessly Of course, face downward on the
desk of a brother reporter.
This must have happened at about 1C
p. M, for the brother reporter came in
from another hurried assignment at II
?. IN. and found some copy paper laid
out before him awaiting the marks Of
his genius. He forthwith wrote out
what he had to write and 'sent it in,'
and it appeared in due course in the
morning paper. The portion of the let.
ter that he i~nnocently used included the
signature of the lovesick swain.
Now this brother reporter noticed
that there was something typewriter on
the back of the paper, but assuming that
it was dead" news he summarily ran
his pen down the page to Indicate that
only the other side should be used. Then
he put away the remainder of the paper
in the drawer ready for the next STORY"
On the next day he used some more of
the paper for copy" AS before, he SIM
ply ran his pen through the dead copy"
and never took the pains to read it. One
of the "comps" up stairs who got a "take"
from the batch did, however, glance at
the dead copy and got SO interested
that he read it through.
1t was rich. Vows of undying devo-
ton, words Of burning affection and
amorous, clamorous, altitudinous rhet-
oric filled the page. The writer was evil
IDENTIFY hard hit, and he wanted the loved
n to know it. The hardened comp
could not keep such a good thing to him
self, and forthwith he read it aloud to
his lease" mates.
They enjoyed it, of course, and there
was at once an alarm sounded to read
aloud the reverse of all of Jones', the
brother reporters, copy. 1t does not
take long for such bright fellows as
SoHlpo dlC I " LII lulISo. NltlllH CWO
minutes of the first alarm all of the in
teresting copy was assembled, the pieces
were placed in consecutive order, and
the five sizzling typewriter pages, reek-
ing with love, were read to a delighted
group of listeners. A few favored
friends from down stairs We're called
in to share the fun, and everybody felt
what a lot some men miss in this world
through not falling in love.
Alas, there was n thing wanting!
Jones, it will be remembered, had sent
up the page containing the signature the
day before. That page, then, was prac-
ticaily gone, although, as the old copy
is kept for a prescribed time, a pertina-
cious seeker after facts could have found
it. Nobody but Jones knew when the
signature went up to the composing
ROOM, and he would not tell. He nc
sooner heard of the racket up stairs thar
he made for the opening pages, where
the address was. These he burned, after
assuring himself that there was nothing
important on them. Nobody. therefore
save Jones, knows who the writer O.
that lovesick epistle is.
The secret is sacred. There is a CIR
somewhere-possibly a reader of thi
page-who is wondering where that let
ter is. She may know now.-Bostol
Herald.