Waterbury evening Democrat., 1895-04-17

Is calIcu Dy the printer the tylOSraphCal beetle or type louse, and which the reader may possibly Dc able to sec if he will ask the foreman of this office. He has gone down cellar to see if he cant hurry up the decomposition of his cheese for Christmas. He may yet again of this place be upon 2 o'clocken."
 The poet waited, listening to the sozzle of the rain and the loud, sucky plunk of the wooden shoe of the common peasant outside; also he could hear below the loud, coarse argument between Gutcn- berg and the cheese.
 "I am a-weary," said the poet. Here is common. low man who could not write a stanza of song, yet he is able to own cheese and keep it till it gets a bead on it. He. forsoUth, could not even write The Cork Leg or the 'Iliad,' and yet he is able to retain his cheese till it can jump 9-rail fence.
 "Why is it?
 Why can German tinker who knows a little magic, such as how to make an omelet in plug hat with an oil stove or turn the jack from the bottom of the back and yet have IS many victuals the next morning as ever, go on making money. while l, who bring tears to fevcred eyes and sobs from the breast of the young and fair. have not dipped my parChing beak in bcaker or hathcd my cunning little mustache in a stein of cool beer since week before last?''
 After time the heavy tread of the publisher was heard coming up tn" stairs, and in the gray light of the office the poet saw the strong features of Johann Gutenberg of the great publishing house of Gutenberg. Faust X Schoeffcr, printers of royal equestrian work. bank work, county work. show printing, such as handbillS, programmes, dodgers, hangers and immoral posters at low prices.
 Cute mochgin," said the great in vcntor of movable types and inside rates on book publishing as he gave that peculiar but cnticing melody to his voice which the American without tonsilitis can never hope to acquire, We gates" Tho poet made an obeiSaucc so sudden and so earnest that his surprised and astonishcd digestrr ratIlcd against his ribs like everything.
 "Gute mochgin, mynhcer," he said. 'OXcoOSe me"
 He then sat down again and ate a little of the paste to give him strength. Then he told his business.
 II want" he said ill low but respect full voice, ito print small book of my poems"
 "Ah," said MT. Gutenberg. you'll have to see Schoeffer about that. at N,N &l,n # A1 rl-a am now writing and getting ready an expunged edition of the Bible that will be as good Christmas book as you ever saw. l am one of the best expurgators in the business, but poetry doesn't catch | on. I could make good living just by | expurgating alone.
 "Schoeffer is the man for you to see. He tends to the VeritaSter, the jackaster | and the poetaSter."
 With that he bit into big rcd apple | and went up stairs in order to indicate that the interview was at an end. The poet asked for MT. Schoefftr, but he vas out of town trying to get tn" tax list and county printing for Str;lsburg. It was several days before the pact went back again tu the office and wiped his feet on the large hole at the threshold worked i'll gray coffee Sacking and used | at that time for duormatS.
 The poet had been ill. He had been | invited to drink something and had | thoughtlessly done so on an empty stomach. Il have not eaten anything. he said. as if to himself, but I cannot lose this opportunity in order to go about the whole city seeking to comply with an old philosophical whim."
 Therefore his head was hurting him some, and the mereSt fragment of the dog that had bitten him was out of the question.
 Schoeffer was an odd looking man who had risen from farm life to the normal school and thence to the publishing busi. ness. He corrected people who made little grammatical errors and charged il up to their copyright account. He would lead the printers around till they got tC talking about cement and its pronunci. stion. Then he would bet with them, and those who lost had it taken out oi their wages.
 Il have very little to do here," said MT. Schoeffer, except in the evening l am more in the firm to correct proof: and look out for the press than any, thing else. Mir. Gutenberg of course con ducts the printing of standard works or which there is no copyright. He is jus issuing the Song of Solomon" fol Christmas.
 There will be an expurgated edition for the trade and then an edition tha
 has not been expurgated for train ana
 news sales"
 But do you not handle other MSS. fo
 rising authors who can still read fin
 print?'
 "yery rarely. How many copies d.
 you want to print"
 "Why, could hardly tell, of course
 all depending on how the public nabbe'
 at it. Of course wanted one copy fo
 my mother. She would like it and ar preciate i:, because she has alway laughed and wept and lovAl me for tines
 poor things that I have done. Othe
 people have read some of them, too, an
 then read them over again and writte
 to me about them as they would if the liked them. and surely they do not do to win my good opinion. for that is nc
 worth anything to anybody. "I do not write as a regular thing, Nil , Schoeffer, but l write because my hear : aays so. There are no headaches and n ] dyspepsia in my poetry, for my dWstio , has been ready all the time to fill mor | "A .. S1,tu Ssvatk a vax,,fr