The Prince George's enquirer and southern Maryland advertiser. (Upper Marlborough, Md.) 1882-1925, 1897-04-02
THE EDITORS CHAIR.

one of his most charming characters
tics, requested us to"look after things
little"
We individually agreed to do So,
though, considering our age, we ought
to have known better.
Charles Kerler, Jr., hadn't been
gone ten minutes uatil the devil came
into the sanctum with a yard of
copy and wanted to know what them
pot hooks meant. There was an evil
CLEAN in the yonng mans eye as he
pointed the finger of scorn at sundry
and various hieroglyphics.
"What's that stuff intended for, any
how? Does the editor think I'm an
antiquarian? Does he imagine that l
can glibly decipher the inscriptions on
the tombs of the Pharaohs 2"
We took the copy and examined it
carefully and laboriously. We turned
it east and west, north and south. We
looked at it sideways and lengthwise.
We turned it upside down. We squint-
ed at it across the corners, and finally
managed to grasp its meaning.
commencing with July 4th, 1896,
we wish to inform the public that we
are going to increase our devils salary
indefinitely"
"Bully for the editor!'' shouted the
devil as he rushed to this case and pied
stick Of matter. "It's easy enough
when you know how"
We once more resumed our heavy
editorial, though we felt greatly ex-
| hausted.
"The protoplastic theory; of conse-
quentiality inextricably pro-"
"Say, l want the paper stopped"
She looked real indignant as she
flounced into our sacred presence and
glared at us ferociously. 81 visited
my grandmother in Cokeville yester-
day and you didn't say word about
it. Don't send me your measly paper
any more. l won't have it, How
much do l owe you?"
Seventeen cents Thanks. Here's
a receipt. And now, madam. we want
to tell you something. The fate of the
Courier trembIes in the balance Your
refusal to take it any longer will pro-
badly cause it's downfall, but we'll do
the best we can to save it. We didn't
know you were in Cokeville yesterday
and we were not aware that you had a
grandmother. We hope the old lady
is well. You ought to have seven
grandmothers, so that you could visit
a different one each day in the week.
Next time you go to Cokeville come
up here and tell us, and we'll mention
it in the paper and put border around
it and print it in red. That's what we
will do, madam. The fact is, you're
too handsome woman to get mad" !"
Our final words touched her heart.
and she at once renewed her subscrip-
tion two years in advance. But we
want to say right herr that although
we have seen homelitr women we don't
know when or where.
"As we were saying, the protoplas-
tic theory philosophi-"
"Say, young fellow, where's the ed
itor p
He tore into the sanctum like
roaring lion. He was six feet tall, he
wore cowhide boots, and he fourished
a long whip. And he had a copy of
the Courier in his hand.
"My dear sir, the editor is not in.
He's out of town."
"Say, what are you giving me !?
That's always the story. II there's
licking in sight, the editors always
out l want to know what this item
means. My name is John Smith"
We sized him up at once and saw
that he meant business.
"Mr. Smith, you're not the man re-
ferred to-. The editor alluded to an
other John Smith, who has died since
the item appeared"
"You don't say, but l believe it's
burned lie. Where is the whip
"Mr. Smith, as we have previously
stated. the editor is away. We don't
know where he is nor how long he will
be gone. If you want to see him,
you'll have to wait until he comes
back"
Say, young fellow. what are you
giving me? Do you know what l
think? I'll be blamed if | don't believe
you're the editor yourself, and I've a
notion to make you sweat for this
item"
''Mr Smith, do look like an editor?
Do you see any evidences of love, adj
miration and esteem lying promiscu-
ously around here? Any turkeys,
ducks, or bottled luxuries? Are these
indications of the atfectionate subscrlb-
er with me? Nay, nay, Brother Smith,
I'm not the editor. We're not one and
the same. Weare here, and he is there,
or elsewhere. Comprehension is"
But he had fed; and peace once
more reigned, and the office coon climb
ell nonchalantly into our lap and smear
ed our shirt with quarter section of
the ink key.
The life of the printer surely has it's