The Washington bee., 1893-11-18
THE REPORTERS LUCK.
bow He was Driven Out and ~ realked
His Venceuce on the Editor.

bow BE was Driven Out and " Nreaked
His Vengence on the Editor.
SAY began the young man as he
sat down to the city EDITORS desk in
a chummy way, "have you any fault
to find with this SS silk hat, this $50
gold-headed cane this $500 diamond
stud, this $50 suit of clothes on top
, of these patent leather CATERS? How
! on this New York draft for $15,O 600!
Heft this gold watch 1 planked down
| 5000 for in Chicago the other day.
Anything scrubby about me?"
II don't see anything" repeated the
! city editor, as he laid down page No. )
! of city item he was revising observes
| the Detroit Free Press.
You bet you don't! Remember me"
Cant say l do"
Don't you remember one night, about
| lean. hungry-looking chap, who had
his coat buttoned up to hide his shirt
+ less condition, came in and struck you
for job?"
"a good many such come in"
eyes, but 1 told you l hoofed it all
the way from Buffalo, and could knock
|
! gings on an obituary notice.
! "Yes, 1 remember now," replied the
city editor, as he capitalized the word
alderman" in page No. 4.
But you had no use for me; said
your paper was devoted to live topics
! instead of obituaries. Ha ha. good
| joke! Don't you remember of advising
me to give up the journalistic struggle
and go to driving a street car? Kind
of you-very kind. Shall never forget
! it. I struck you for a quarter and you
| panned out two shingle nails. q bunch
of keys and a poker chip. Felt sorry
| for you-'pon my honor l did. Would
! have let you in later on, but had for
! gotten your name"
! "Well?" wearily queried the city edi-
tor, as he marked two eXclamations
and a comma into a mad dog item.
"Well, l went West. Struck Kansas
! just in time to boom. Thought of yOu
all the way out there. Couldn't strike
street car job, but 1 did hit an old
chap who wanted to sell 800 acres of
land mighty bad. Hit man in Wich-
| ita for fifty cents and struck keno
three times. Then dropped into faro
and came out $500 ahead. I'd taken
your advice and given up the journal
istic struggle see?"
Yes"
"Got a surveyor-platted the town of
| Silver City-got out circularS-adver
| tised in 600 paperS-gave away 200 lots
sold off 4,26O, and here 1 am. Clean
ed up about $4,000 inside of 4 year
and a half-all new greenbackS-and
am now on my way to Europe for 4
tour before going into an orange grove
spec in Florida. Say, old man-comc
along with me-Liverpool-Lond
ris-Venice-Berlin. You are look
ing yellow about the gills, and the
ozone will do you good. Just IL little
run for six months, you know--art gal
leries-cathedrals- ls-towers-the Rhine
the Alps-store clothes and first-class
hotels all the way round What dye
say?"
Il can't afford it," answered the city
editor, as he marked the comical pro-
ceedings 20. K" and laid the manu-
script aside.
Poor boy-poor boy! How many
years have you been at it?'
Twenty"
"And still wearing two-shilling ties,
a tweed suit, and looking as if you
hadn't had square meal for a month.
Say-give it up-put on your coat and
go home"
do you mean my situation?''
Eyes, and Journalism, too. You are 4
failure. Give up the struggle and drive
street car or hitch on to a buck saw
and try and work yourself to the top.
Sorry for you, but you are out of your
element. All my dollar cigars are
gone, but here are a couple of tifty-cent
ones, which / will leave with my best
wishes. Would like to stay longer, but
I sail from New York day after to-
morrow. Bye-bye, old fel, and don't
| be discouraged! Always a chance for
an ambitious street car driver to climb
up, you know. If you need my influ-
ence cable me, care of the Roths-
childs."
And when he had departed the city
editor leaned back and stared at the
wall for long five minutes without
thinking. When the clatter of the copy
box coming down from the composing
room finally brought him back to earth
he sighed drearily, put away the cigars
SO carefully wrapped in tinfoil, gath
cred up the sheets lying about, and
whispered to himself:
TOO late! All the booms have bust
ed. Wish I'd thrown the blamed cuss
down stairs for his cheek"