The Hartford republican. (Hartford, Ky.) 18??-1926, 1911-01-13
YOUR HOME PAPER


Mrs Ella Hutchinson Ellwanger, one
OF the best-knpwn literary women in
kentucky. Mrs Ellwangsr's subject
was "Your Home Paper and she
handled 1t in a manner that won
the highest commentator from all
who heard 1t. Witty, breezy and
chock full of delightful bits of SEN
timent the paper made decided hit"
and Mrs. Ellwanger was warmly con-
graduated.
It may have been the season of the
year-the spirit Of Christmas, that
caused me to stand in some six inch
es of snow and slush one twilight not
long since, and watch the passersby
get Their Home Paper" from the
newsvender at the corner of Fourth
avenue and Walnut strest
AS l still stood there he looked at
sick people look for their sheet,
well-dressed well-groomed specimen of
manhood passed, looked with great
pretended indifference at the rows
of papers ON the racks, and then start
ed off across the street without max
ing a purchase.
Hey there, mister shouted out
the newsnan hurriedly counting out
another change hey, there can't yer
find year paper--wots the manner"
For the fraction of a second the
man hesitated and then came back
with a tolerant smile on his lips at
the mans dnsistence. His paper was,
however too inconsequential TO find
place ON the rack and he purchased
one published near his home town.
As l still stood there he lkooed at
me--a bit kindly--and as he pocl1ated
his change he said.
Cant you find yours, oither?"
A tumultous rush of something came
over me and a few foolinsh tears
splashad on my coat. l merely mood
ed my head too full for speech-
for was not then on my way home
from the postoffice with my Home
Paper tucked safely under my arm?
learned afterward, the man search
ing for his paper was one of the most
!. successful business men in the city
of Louisville. Christmas memories
had taken him back to the little
town where he was reared, and he
wanted to hear from them this Yule-
tide.
Its the Christmas microbe," he
laughed lgeniaiiy as he raised his-hat
in farewell.
To-day how many of you men, |
wonder, rummage beneath the pile
of literature that comes each day to
your desk to seek out the little daily
that it is scarcely big enough to
stay DIN it's wrapper, and then, with a
quiet smile go to your overcoat and
put ut down deep in one of its oapa-
cious pockets.
Johnny, the office boy, you are
certain, thinks that you are gltting a
disreputable bulletin of some sort.
Again, you are not sure but what the
little rascal knows what 1t is, where
1t is published and why you hide it.
That paper is frequently found I'M
wrapped and Johnny's back on these
occasions is eloquent with subdued
hiliarity.
Ashamed of your home paper?
Mercy! Heaven defend us from such
charge, 1t ii, mot shame-but rath-
re sense of fear that someone who
does noe know and love everybody in
The dull old town" will read it, and
laugh-as Johnny is doing
Nothing seems to provoke so much
nerriment from some folks as read
ing the very personal paragraphs ad-
dicted to country newspapers.
1t may be only four-page semi
weekly but you. successful business
man, golf enthusiast, club man and
what not, reading every word OF it,
including the birth and death notices
and advertisements.
You havemade your fortune now
and are accounted among the repre-
sentative men of the community in
which you live. and. If we are to be-
lieve all that is said and written of
you, are also one of the most ehgl-
BILE and envied bachelors in the city.
But. when you read of THE marriage
of the pretty and accomplished
Miss Polly Smith. OF Honeysuckle,
KY. 10 one Silas Brown, of the same
village. the owner of tho one large
general merchandise store and post
master to boot you lay the paper
down ON your knees and wipe your