The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1893-07-27
THE EDITORS VISITOR.
How Polly Sold Her Grandpa's
Returned Manuscript.

AJOE O2 lIC AuTOnlClC was very DuSy
making out an assignm mt list, when a
queer old-fashioned figure of a 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 newcomer,
timidly holding out 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 compare
lively young man, very alert, very
quick in speech and all business, took
the manuscript, unfolded it with snap
and ran his eye 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 an
cient history you tried TO shove off on
me the other day"
But polished 1t up" suggested the
old man.
polished your grandfather" ex-
claimed the other. why, you couldn't
polish that matter so that 1t would be
readable II you worked forever It's
hardlucls; but the plain truth is there arc
too many young men husthg 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! Other
wise stay away, pleased"
The city editor faced his desk again,
picked up his pen and fell to work, not
looking ct 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 without 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 pres
emily he went up the steps of small
house and opened the door. The room
into which he came was bare and miser-
able-looking, and everywhere showed
the lack of a womans hand to straighten
the few bits of furniture, which only
served by their mean repair to add to
the forlorn appearance of the apart
ment The old man stood quite still,
one hand resting ON the doorjamb,
staring ahead of him as If he saw be-
yond the opposite wall. As he stood
there, there came glad child's cry
from the other end of the room:
''oh, gran'pop! glad you come! It's
awfully lonelyr'
The old mans face frightened. He
Eaa aie saasnsng 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 on his cheeks
as he talked to her of the fun they
would have that evening latter work
was don,.S After work was done was
sthe season when these two had grand
romps together Work, as little Polly
well knew, meant writing, writing,
writing until she would crawl upon the
>osd mans knee and beg him 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 pages before him.
John Harmon was nearly eighty, "a
broken-down newspaper man" he was
called, and his only inheritance from
past days was a knowledge of news
paper writing and a little granddaugh-
ter whose mother and father had died
In fever epidemic few years before.
The old man threw the rejected
manuscript on a 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
finished The pulled on his coat once
more, kissed the child and went out
again. A publishing-house had
promised 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 invariable source of amuse ment.
BY and by, becoming tired, she
wandered over to the table. The re-
Sected 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 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
1t! 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 granpop. It,
would be such a surprise to him to find
1T already gone when he came home