The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1900-12-16
"A LITERARY TELLER"
Description of One by n Village Resi-
dent.

New York Commercial Advertiser.
''They tell me you're a literary Teller"
said Kale, lifting his heels up to the rim
of the Franklin stove. He wore great
cowhide boots, with his trousers tucked
into the tops. Consequently his feet werr
rather heavy; and, what with his rheuma-
tism, the exertion of raising his extremi-
ties to a level with his head made him
groan. well, L was surprised when /
heered that" he added.
He took a chew of tobacco, working it
around with his tongue till it rested In
the place formerly occupied by two great
molar teeth. Sam Eckerson, the store
keeper. leaned against the counter, with
his hands in his pockets, and smiled ex-
pectantly. Although it was bitterly cold
outdoors and an icy blast blew through
the store whenever any one entered or
went out, Sam was In his shirt sleeves out
OF respect for business. He was bald, with
a broad, fat face and punches of side
whiskers. Formerly these whiskers were
red, with streaks of gray. But when Sans
wife died and he went into mourning he
dyed them black.
Kale sat musing. Then he looked up
sharply. L knew that the proper time foI
the question had come, and said:
Well, why were you surprised, Mr..
Kale?'
Kaie cast one of his keen chances at me
his gray eyes looked hard as steel then
expeetorated on the stove, smoothed down
his mustache and beard. and .~expounded:
You don't look like a literary Teller, in
the first place." he said. You go arOund
in one of these ere golf suits and smoke
a bulldog briarwood pipe? That amt lit
erary; at least, judging by what I've seen.
Then what are you doing. hanging aromno
here in Exvilie, eff you're literary? This
amt no place for literatoore. They ain't
any literatoore here"
Kale paused a moment and Sam Ecker
SON nodded and smiled eXpectantly.
Now. New York's the place for litera-
toore,' Kale resumed. AT least, that's
what the Rev. Mr.. Sampson told me, and
Teller we ever had in this place. and he
didn't like it here. He used TO say to me.
Eff L could only get to New York I'd have
some ~scope'-scope was the word he used
I'D have some scope for my abilities
sez'ee. He wasn't a darned bit like you, and,
as l said, I'm judging by him. That's why
1 was surprised when 1 heard you was a
literary Teller. Sampson didn't smoke. and
he always wore a long black coat and a
white necktie and a black felt hat. OF
course, he was a minister of the gospel, and
he had TO dress like that, but somehow 1t
seemed literary, too. He was terrible liter
airy, that fellow was. Young. too. He used
TO write love stories that was printed in the
Pokedale Gazette, but they was only his
sermons hashed over. He preached sermons
for young folks on the subject of love, mat
rimony and housekeeping, and my wife said
they was edifying. though i said / didn't
see what good it did her to hear them, be-
cause she'd had the love and matrimony,
and nothing could change her way of
housekeeping. She's pretty sot in her ways,
m wife is. But that's neither here nor
there. Sampson was just aching to get
married. but he couldn't because his salary
was only $3.50 a year. For a While the
church talked of raising II, and m wife told
him about it I hope they do, Mrs. Kaie,'
sez'ee, because then I could take some one
to share my life Well, the church didn't
raise his salary, so he Just had 10 get along
then with writing love stories"
Kale removed the stale quid and replaced
liz with 6nother.
'Literatoore Is an easy job" he resumed,
after the intermission, during which neither
Sam nor j ventured 10 offer a remark.
Now, In summer L work in the shipyard
and IN winter / go claiming, and such Nike.
and / feel at night as though I had earned
my supper. But ! wouldn't II l had set at
a table In the house all day writing. Samp-
son used to say to me, says he: It's easy;
just as easy as rolling of a log. My ideas
come TO me, / can't tell jest how sez'ee.
and 1 can't rest till I've put them down in
literary form. And tina amt any work,
sez'ee. It's jest play or words to the same
effect or course Sampson was a minister
and he had to work, SO he could always feel
he'd earned his living. no matter how lit