St. Paul daily globe. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn.) 1884-1896, 1894-09-04
END OF AN OLD EDITOR.
All He Dreamed of Was Putting
the Last Form to Press,

the Last Form to Press.
From the New YORK Mail and Express.
1t wasn't many months after the
frightful Johnstown disaster that the
old night editor began to show signs of
breaking down. He had held the one
position for thirty-five years or better,
ard had stood over all imposing stone
when all sorts and description of news
were coming In. None of 1t affected
him. News was news and type was
type. and the news had to be put iutO
type at certain time, and the type had
TO go to press at a certain time-that
was all there was of it,.
~ When the story came from the battle
field of Antietam OF the great loss of
life that both sides had suffered, the
night editors chief anxiety was that
the news should be properly displayed.
II was the same month before at the
second Bull Run. and the same nearly a
year afterward at Gettysburg. The sur
render at AppomattOX. the wonderful
disbandment OF a great army. the as<as-
sinati0n of Lincoln, the tragic fate of
John Wilkes Booth. and all the events
that were crowding close together when
the republic was passing through the
greatest crisis of its history, found him
calm and cool, ready and alert to seize
the salient feature of every dispatch
and anxious to get it before the great
reading public as quickly as possible.
Just this and no more. He never
stopped to moralize or conjecture when
Slug was coming up rather slowly. or
when the man at the stone dropped
handful Oftype. On these occasions
his remarks had no connection with the
character of the news whatever.
IT. WAC thprafnra with coma p,icUiyipu
knowing all this that the foreman
observed the old man reading every
proof slip of the catastrophe In the
Conemaugh valley with feyerish anxiety
and occasionally shaking his head and
signing. The next night word came
from down stairs that the OLD editor
was at home with brain FEVER and
mightn't be back in the composing
room for month. They "made up"
that night without him, and were
twenty minutes late. besides committing
the objectionable sin of leaving out
twenty-l line lad"
The old man had been in a printing
office so long and so steadfastly that it
was part OF his life. He was typical of
all good men in the same place. Good
natured and jovial from 8 to IL O'clock.
quieter and more active from IL to l2:45,
and from 12:45 to press time as nervous
and tidgety as hen with brood of
ducklings. He hadn't saved much
money-Just tritle for rainy day,
and as he laughingly observed he need
ed all umbrella about once week. He
had buried two children-a girl and
boy. The boy fell at the battle of the
Wilderness. and his father saw the
name IN type one night as he leaned
over the forms.
When the foreman went up the next
afternoon he found the old editor in de-
lirium. At the bedside, gently tanning
him, sat his dear old wite-one of those
sweet.faced women who seem to be on
earth simply to lend comfort to the i'll
and distressed.
-"Does he seem any better?" was the
whispered inquiry. 1.-The boys miss
him, tell YOU"
II very much fear he is not" was the
quiet. resigned reply. His mind is on
the paper all the time. He has not
tor was here an hour ago. He seems
to think-there, now, father, it's all
right--yes, yes; we will do just as you
wish"
The sick man had interrupted the first
part Of the remark. He was resting ON
his elbow as the wife spoke.
''Never mind that, Joe" he half NUT
tered. Then raising his voice to de-
cislve tone, Get that galley. Fll
railroad it now. That's the dlrtiest
proof L ever saw in this Office. Dump
il in here. We've only eight minutes
to get this form down. Who's setting
that J0hnstown head"'
He's thinking of hard week we had
III the office the time OF tue JOhrstown
flood" whispered the foreman as he
gazed sorrowfully on the flushed face
and the feverishly bright eyes. There
was moments pause, and the old man
cried out again:
Joe, Joe; what's the matter with
you? Is the office full of subs tonight?
Chase up K 6, will you? l never saw
anything like it since the snakes were
driven out of Ireland. Here you are.
standing around like lot of stoughton
bottles, and can't get that hole filled to
save my neck. What? Idon't care if
you're five columns Overset. Get that
plea cap line changed to cap and lower
case, and let's get this form away.
Only two minutes; only two minutes,
joe"
The old editor fell back on the bed
exhausted.
He is all broken down." said the
faithful partner of his joys and sorrows
as the tears coursed down her cheeks,
land the doctor gave Inc no-uO hope
at all. He said it was a question of
very few hours, and"
The patient was OH his elbow again.
rs that you, mothpr%' he asked,
feebly. "Oughtn't be getting up?"
The lucid moment was gone like
flash. The fever began to talk, but the
unnatural strength it lent was gone.
The breathing was labored, and the
words were uttered at long intervals.
Tell 'em to send that second page
back, Billy" whispered the dying man;
"l'll make over, instead of on the sixth.
Tell 'em they will get this last form in
ten seconds. Keep your shirt on. boys
keep your shirt on"
The breath became more stertorous
"All tight, Joe? No! put a thicker
quad in there. Now she'll go. Joe.
Holer down there, Joe-this is the
lastH"
The foreman drew the sheet over the
dead mans face. V. &C.