Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1910-10-16
The Office Cat and the Waste Basket

test of mine--you won't dare to publish
it,
did you hear it," asked the Waste
Basket, when the muffled wall of Pro
Bono Publico' had died away
Sure 1 did replied the Office Cat Il
should think it'd worry you to death TO
have all that noise tethered inside OF
you.
.Oh. shucks. don't mind" replied tho
Waste Basket. "It's all in the days
work. and it's part of my job. and SO I'm
not kicking. What I do feel sore about
occasionally, though, is the way the let
tiers of citizens on different sides of a
subject get 10 rowing inside OF me. It's
this way: One citizen is i'm favor of a
certain street extension. Another citizen
ISM l. Both of them write long acidulous
letters to the Editor on the subject. The
Editor Chucks the letters into me And
then. when the Editor and all of the
rest of the humans around the place have
gone away, why. the letters taking or
posfte views about the street extension
get to scrapping inside of me- and howl
ing and bawlfng at each other. and each
claiming that the other is actuated solely
by motives of self-interest. and all that
sort OF thing, until. really. il becomes
very unpleasant. They won't permit me
TO act as arbitrator. either. but keep Old
steady rumbling inside of me till some
times l feel like turning myself right up
side down and dumping EN- all out on
the floor. and then, when the Editor gets
on you, see?" and the Waste Basket
Srinned inadvertently.
We'll. I might as we'll he hung for q
goat as for a cat. said the Office Cat.
They blame everything on me as il is.
But they can go far they like.
don't care. I've got a steady job here.
and the kickers and knockers can't get
me the raJ-a-ma-taj. not MUCH
''Nibbled on any funny stuff latelyr"
inquired the Waste Basket
Nav" replied the Office Cat disgust
edly. Il should say not. There's no
funny stuff coming into this Office
into any other orfice nowadays. from
write what they think is humorous stun
give me the fsntods. they sure do.
don't see where they get off. And Vet
they have the nerve to ask for real
money for their GriVel. All OF the funny
stun was said and written ages ago.
think the guy who said there never were
more than three original jokes in the
world had the dope dead right. All the
tation goods, phony material. you might
say. Catch me biting on the humorous
bait! Well ! should say not, Do I loon
like somebody from Point o. Rocks?"
''Oh. well. | s'spose the near-humorists
do the best they can" said the Waste
Basket. They're up against kind of a
grind, You know. Fact is | guess most
of these hard-luck writing ginks do the
best they know how To do. I feel right
smart sorry for a lot of EN-, honest / do
OF course | meet the stuff of all the hard
fuckers. All of il drops my way. Really.
some of the stuff that's TOSSED into me
Is right fair. considering Often ] think
that if / were the Editor Id take a
chance and publish some of it. But l
reckon the Editor knows his job. and Sd
he hurls it right into me. If | could talk
any other language except Waste Basket
language, 4 often feel like I'd enjoy COM
forting some of these things that find
themselves inside OF me; telling EN-. you
know, that. no matter what the Editos
thinks about 'em, why. 1 don't think
they're punk. and sort o soothing 'ers
out. But ! can cay.'t talk anything bus
Waste Basket language, as you know,
you being the only one around here that
can understand me, and I'm debarred
the satisfaction I might enjoy il I only
could hurl little occasional bunch ot
cheer into all of these discards that pop
my way.
Just at this instant mouse flickered
over the floor. and the eyes of the Office
Cat cleaned like couple Of huge topazes
as II leaped out of the Waste Basket (up-
setting it) for the mouse, and the office
Cats quest carried il out of the room
and through several rooms. and SO the
little chat was broken up for that night.
CLARENCE l.. CULLEN.