The National tribune., 1898-03-31

AND THE NRONG-N ALIEh aBSplsb c
SOME NEW IDEAS THAT MATERIALLY
AFFECT HIS FUTURE COURSE.
[CoPYRIGHTl
Work on the days paper ended at 4
o'clock, when the paper went to press,
and the men usually occupied the time
from then until six in distributing y
type into their cases in preparation Tor
the work of the next day.
1t was Old JOS custom as soon as the
paper went to press to leave the office
for leisurely saunter homeward, stop
ping on the way to gossip with Old
friends This left Inky" without a
master for two long hours, during which
he was as ungovernabe, as noisy and as
saucy as only the "devil-boy" OF 4
daily newspaper can be.
His favorite way Of spending the
time was to adjourn down stairs for Il
frolic or a fight with the folders and the
boys waiting for papers IN the press
room. When SO engaged he replied to
the earnest appeals from the eompositors
above for water TO wet the type or wash
their hands, with words Of biting Con-
tumely and derision:
WANT water, do YEP" he would
shrek back to the intense delight of his
ragamufin chums: "Want it to soak
yer head in, don't yer? it must feel
awful big after last nights bum; but
Yer never kin GIT enough water up stairs
to do it any good. Better 90 an stick
it in Lake Michigan"
One afternoon happy thought struck
one of the compositors, who was an ex-
cellent mimic. Placing himself at the
head of the stairs, bat out OF sight, lie
called ont in the foreman's voice:
nicholas Bissell bring some water
UP here Immediately, for the men to
wash up with F"
"Inky" gave the small newshoy he
was teasing a parting kick and cuff that
set him TO hewling. and sprang away to
do as he was bid. When he appeared,
painting with the labor of carving the
bucket Of water up three flights, and
looked around for The foreman, the boys
told him plausible story about the Old
Man" having returned for his rubbers
and having just how slept into the edi-
tors room.
"Inky" was satisfied with this, but
after it had been played upon him every
afternoon for week lie began to compre-
bend that he was the victim OF some de-
ception, and show much less alacrity III
responding.
On this afternoon Old 10 was so over
come by the events Of the day that he
did not leave at the accustomed time, tho
Inky thought he did, but shuffied around
thru various parts Of the building in
great mental perturbation. Coming
back at last into the composing room,
one Of the men said:
=" Mr.. Wilson, we really wish you
would do something with that boy lnky.
Now there's BOT a drop of wafer up here,
and there never Is, when we need it, and
We never can get him to bring US any"
Testy Old 10 famed up Immediately.
Wont he, the lazy little imp? Well,
I'll see about that! -
Going to the head of the stairs, he
called out:
nicholas Bisselll Nicholas Bissell
You lag little rascal! Bring a bucket
Of water up here this minute, or Eli
make you sorry for it "
Every sound in the Office ceased as
tie men waited. Back On the soft,
calm Spring air came Inky's shrill
answer:
40, YOU just 90 to thunder, Josh
Hartman! You've fooled me that way
just as often as you're a-goin' to, and
YOU can't do it no more. Dye under
stand that, darn We? Pack yer own
water, you blasted swellhead!"
The compositors roared. Old JOS
face lookt like red flannel. He bounced
downstairs in almost SPECIFICS rage, and
presently returned, leading by the ear
the very much subdued Inky," who
carried full pail of water
The men washed up" silently and
seriously. There was an entire absence
of the jest and quips that usually fly
about when the days work is done, and
the printers gather around the wash
basins, TO scrub from their hands with
strong soap and coarse sandstone or soft
brick the clinging ink received from the
begrimed type.
The news Of the day was the topic up
permost in all minds, but discussion,
even allusion, was barred. No one
wanted to drop spark upon another
train Of powder. Each donned his street
clothes, picked up his lunch basket, and
joining companion, hurried out into
the open air that the grave matter might
be talked over with entire freedom.
Morgan and another printer who had
worked much in the South walked away
together, both with an air of exultation
at the deed of the Secessionists, mingled
in the former with rage at his own per-
sonal defeat.
Walter joined the little group that
gathered around Bronson. The great
respect he had always had for the con-
siderate, pleasantspoken man and skill
full workman had now blossomed out