The Appeal. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn. ;) 1889-19??, 1901-07-06
SOME GOOD NEWSPAPER STORIES.

| versatfon with him over the wires and
instructed him at length as to the nature
OF the report that I desired him to z1eIe-
graph He assured me that he had all
! the facts; that he could write four or
! hVe columns and that he would begin
| at once, handing his copy to- the tele-
graph operator as fast written. Things
looked very promising, indeed, but 10
| o'clock p. m. having arrived and no
| word having been received, [ sent him
I a. frantic disSatch, and an hour later I
received from him telegram of forty-
seven words, saying that the town had
| fallem a victim to the fire fiend and
| that words failed to describe the stua-
| uon He had approached his subject
vallantly, but it had vanquished him.
| The other country correspondent was
OF different sort. He lived in a. town
where they had seven men in iail for
murder, and. being a leading citizen and
a man Of affairs, he managed to know
| what was going on. One night we re-
| celVed from him by wire rwell-wrtten
| history of the crimes Of the prisoners
| with an account of the proceedings Of
a lynch court that had been held that
afternoon in the public square At the
end of the dispatch was a private note
| saying: Hanging takes place later Will
| nave 5000 or 1900 words more" True
TO his word, at 10 p. m. his supplementary
| dispatch started and by a. M we had
"a seven-column account Of the most re-
markable manifestation of mob law ever
| witnessed west Of the Mississippi river
no other newspaper in the country having
even 50 much a bulletin of the &C.
currence. In this case the country cor
| reSnOn6opt of ba
his own hands placed the ropes around
| the necks of three of the culx>rdts.
thave no hesitation in commencing him
| as an efficient newsgatherer and am able
| hangman.
| Addressed in Poetry.
| Have you ever thought how it might
seem to be addressed in poetry-and very
good poetry, at that-by a woman whose
| face you had never seen? There is poetry
| and poetry, but that to which I refer was
| lined at me very much as the sharp darts
OF ones conscience are aimed at ones
heart. For several weeks in succession ]
| received dainty manuscripts of short sto-
! ,ries and poems from an unknown writer
| All were reasonably good, but newspap ers
| do not as a rule pay for such contribu-
| tions, and I directed that they be re.
| turned to her. In reply I received a
! touching letter, voicing her disappoint-
! iment, describing her sorrows and her ex-
! 'trenlity in asking if there was not work
| of some sort that she could do in order
{ to earn little money. I had been dis
| !appointed that week with reference to an
PARTICLE which was wanted for the Sunday
! tissue, and J. thoughtI would give this zur.-
| known correspondent an opportunity to
write it. I gave as full a description as
| possible of what was wanted, and in an
| unexpectedly short space of time re-
| ,ceived the manuscript, but it would not
do at all. The work was clearly out Of
her line. With as much kindness as pos
| sible I returned to her the manuscript,
(which she had regarded as accepted, and
| "a few days later I received from her a
| heartbreal1ing little poem descriptive OF
| her own woe and helplessness and each
| stanza ending with pointed inquiry that
| iseemed to be addressed directly to me.
| MANY years have elapsed since then, and
I chance to knew that the sweet littN
singer has long since passed away, but
| never think Of that earnest and pathetic
Appeal In Rhyme without experiencing the
| Same quick seleAsesuRang pahs that PASSED
through my breast when the versss first
| foil Under my eye.
"uhreaEenab1e," yeu say. Yes, and Ill.
bred, too, perhaps, but despairing men
and women in all ages have called aloud,
| little rocking the time or the place, and
| hoping only for a saving hand. These
| cries come to all of the children of men
| at one time or another. Some of us may
not hear them, even though they be re-
| pc ated. but be assured they may be heard
If we will but listen, ana that some day
we will know whether we heard wisely or
passed on foolishly. a.. -. g.
The Young Musician. ~
| You may see over my desk a small
frame 1nclosinS the photograph OF boy.
! The face Is clear, frank, honest, hopeful.
Faded though it is, look in 1t sometimes
for inspiration, as I once did into the
original. That boy and I became friends
in peculiar way. He was ten years Of
age when he introduced himself to me by
letter. His father was dead his mother
could barely support him and her other
children and he was ambitious to become
a musician. Although he had never re-
ceNed a lesson, he could play several in
struments perfectly. He had heard that
there were places where poor children
with musical talent couN be given In
struction free, and his letter to me was
i AS " AAAlClCSl yulySSkl III MS DGualI.
This did In a formal way, but as mine
was a busy life the whole matter soon
passed out OF mind @ 100
A month or two later the lad came
to see me with my letter to him in his
hands. and with swimming eyes he re-
lated how all his visits to the numerous
CONSERVATIVES, colleges and institutions
| had resulted in the same manner The
great patrons of music and the persons
VINO gave free instruction to the poor
/ We're not In when he called. The quick
eyes of the lad seemed to read my face
ana ne said frankly that he did not come
4 TO ask me to pay for his instruction.
lie thought | might be able to find the
place where free lessons were given to
/ worthy boys. promised to do that}svery
/ thing, and the next day i persuaded a
1 Well-knoWn music teacher to give the
i boy instruction for one term Such was
\ the delight of the lad that he called
upon me frequently, always hopeful. al
ways grateful.
i Unhappily. the child was. not strong.
and he did not long survive. A year after
4 made his acquaintance stood by his
bier and took a last farewell of his beau
tiful face. Every feature was expressive
i of content The zone great disapposnt-
ment possible In his case had been spared
TO him. He had gone to rest with little
| real knowledge of the needless world
that is kind enough to small boys when
lit thinks of them, but that has too much
on it's mind to think of them very often.
ut was something, thought, to have
helped one little wayfarer on his short
4 pilgrimage and to have enabled him to
pass on from time to eternity with soul
!. full of faith in the better nature of men