Connecticut western news., 1917-09-27
THE CITY EDITOR.

When it comes to editing paper, the city editor has a snap. He will pick the subject for his editorials from the news he receives through various channels, which requires no effort on his part. He then sets down in his luxuriously upholstered swivel chair. and after sharpening his pencil and his cigar, he will turn to his typewriter and very carefully rake some one or something lover the coals", to his hearts content, thereby establishing the fact that the press has freedom.
 If reporter comes in with grouch on, and wants to quit, he promptly discharges him, knowing where there are several more. If the foreman of the mechanical department should register a kick, he will hold back copy, thereby making his work harder, to get even. Should customer call, he will press a button and refer him to one of his many subordinates, depending entirely on his rank and the position he holds. In one case, he would press button which called the watchman, who would hurriedly escort the visitor out. If it was a business man of some inn portance, whom he had previously vented his editorial spleen upon, he would call the police, but if the visitor happened to be an ordinary working man, with real grievance, he would press button which will quickly pre- cipitate the unfortunate victim into the cellar on top of the ash can. Thus life is made one round of pleasure from day to day.
 When the country editor sets down to write an editorial he must first select suitable subject from the local news which he gathers. The next step is to consider if such an editorial would be perfectly satisfactory to the selectmen,. the sheriff or constable, who works only during the summer and draws a years salary. After satisfying himself on all these points he will carefully write the editorial, and after reading it several times and making alterations each time which if left might have some unknown in. fuence, he will take it to the compost tor, who immediately wants to know if he will ever stop bringing out copy, and that if he should bring out any more, he will quit. The editor smooths the compositors ruff1ed feathers by promising him half day off, and returns to his two-by twice sanctum.
 On looking over some accounts, he discovers the bookkeeper has made 8 mistake of small matter of $2f5. O9, and starts to take her to task. He has not proceeded very far when she jumps up and tells him that unless he stops abusing her, she will tell her father, who is first selectman, superintendent of the Sunday school, chairman of the school board and also runs cider mill. Not wishing to get in wrong with the town officials, and thereby lose some advertising and job printing, he quietly closes his face and crawls into his hole.
 After attempting to collect his thoughts and congratulating himself on the fact that his editorials did not attract any undue attention, his reverie is suddenly disturbed as a shadow falls across the door. Without greeting or -yourleave, big rawboned farmer deposits his feet inches of humanity squarely in front of your desk, squirts a stream of tobacco juice at your waste paper basket, and then whistles " Annie Roonie" through his teeth to command your attention. Playing for time and quaking inwardly, you finally summon enough courage to ask him what you can do for him. After bang jag the desk with fists as big as hams, few times, he informs you that unless you retract the statement made in last weeks paper, he will withdraw his signature from your promisory note, stop his subscription and his neighbors and that the village snowplow wor t do any blowing on your street next winter.
 You 4eadily make all kinds of promises that it will never happen again, and after the giant has stopped swinging his arms in the air, in very meek voice you ask him what the