The evening Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1918-1920, 1919-02-20
AloOood NOVEL; Editor The cde4n w
suit the connoisseur Of GOOD printing or

! suit the connoisseur Of good printing or
pressman with a vocabulary sur
! passing any Grass imitation in type
| Its front page is given over to world
news, telegraphed around each noon
time from Boston. It's inside pages
chronicle from day to day, month to
month and year to year, the poorly
written stereotyped advertisements Of
our local merchants, bordering the
daily summary of the activities of o,
homefolk-births and marriages and
deaths, little stories of social glory
which from time to time descend on
homes about our community; the
meeting and parting of friends; bus
! mess success or failure; illness and
accident, petty felony and unspeak-
/ able tragedy-all the sad gamut of
human affairs from the bathotic to
the sacred, with which the country
newspaperman does business.
If you are one CT those rare souls
VINO find delight in the study of your
| fellowmen, come and live and work
awhile in the office of little coun-
! try paper. For in the office of little
country paper in an American small
town you will get down to the hard
pan and the bedrock of human ma
ture closer than you have ever reach
ed before. All day long through the
front office will filter the pathos and
! bathos Of the lives of your kind in
| the form of news for your columns !;
births and marriages and deaths; in
spring stories of success, heartrend-
ing stories of failure; cheap snob-
berry masquerading as quality, noble
aspiration, unrequitted sacrifice, kind
| ly return of good for evil. And in
the back room you will find the print
er folk, perhaps not so picturesque as
they were yesteryear, but still very
humanity interesting and each man
and each woman with story worth
| the telling.
| In this intensely interesting and
very human task of publishing this
little country newspaper, there comes
time in each week when we view
our work in prospective. It is the
hour on Saturday afternoons when
the distribution of the pay envelopes
has been made and the labors of an
other seven days are ended. The
boys and girls of the back room have
gone. The whirring of the shafting
that runs the big press is silent; the
motors on the linotype have been
shut off and the front office is no
longer conscious of the faint clicking
of matrixes falling into endless lines
of news. With the back room smell
ing of printing-ink, lubricating
grease and linotype fumes like lair
of beasts, the plant rests for twenty
four hours. Then we who are re-
sponsible for this newspaper, sit in
the front Office where we can see the
crowds milling up and down Mair
| Street with an occasional individual
dropping in to pay his subscription OF
an advertising bill, and the thoughts
that come to US are solemn.
We have completed another week
We have added six more numbers tt
the files which our children and oul
children's children will look back up
on some day, perhaps in amusement
, perhaps in soft sorrow. For anothe
six times we have repeated to or lit
r tie world the fleeing joys, the mo
mentary successes, the simple ant
: awful little tragedies that make III
: the daily life of our community AM
E its people. We reflect that into som
: of our homes since the last Saturda.
1 afternoon, new human beings hav
s begun their tiny start in a yer
r added old universe. In other home
e or in our churches, the, love affair
: of some of our boys and girls hay
V terminated in the Happy. Ending
In still others, following the inexol
n able law of human life, has com
f Great Sadness. There are chairs tia
s are empty and familiar voices WI
Il henceforward be heard there n
i more.
: When we come to this reflector
+ time, being ordinary -two-legged me
d and women ourselves in the office {
e our little local paper, we find oul
l. selves unconsciously asking que
W tons. We wonder why in. some {
J. the homes, the new babies have a
% rived; why it is that in our tow