The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1920-11-13

the merry tune Of typewriter worked
by n vigorous young lady. His life
was a series of distracted compromises
between the proprietor of the paper
(and of himself), who was a senile
soap boiler with three ineradicable
mistakes in his mind, and the very able
staff he had collected to runNthe paper
some of whom were brilliant and ex-
perienced men and-what was even
worse-sincere enthusiasts for the po-
litical policy of the paper. A letter
from one of these lay Immediately be-
fore him; and, rapid and resolute
though he was, he seemed almost to
hesitate before opening it. He took up
a strip of proof instead, ran down it
with a blue eye and blue pencil, al
tered the word adultery" to the word
''impropriety.' rang a bell, and sent the
proof flying upstairs. Then, with
more thoughtful eye. he ripped open
the letter from his more distinguished
contributor, which bore a postmark of
Devonshire and ran as follows:
Dear Button:
"As 1 see you're working Spooks and
Docks at the same time, what about an
article on that rum business Of the Eyres
OF Exmoor; or. as the old women can II
down here, the DEVILS Ear OF Eyre? The
head of the family now, you know, Is
the Duke of Exeter; he is one of the few
really stiff old Tory aristocrats left. a
sound old crusted tyrant It Is quite IN
our line to make trouble about. And
think I'm on the track of a story that
will make trouble
THE reason I point II out to you Is
this: It seems to me that We make a
mistake in attacking aIistocracy entirely
for its champagne and diamonds. Most
men rather admire the nobs for having
good time; but I think we surrender
too much when we admit that aristocracy
has made even the aristocrats happy. 1
suggest a series of articles pointing out
how dreary, how inhuman, how down.
right diabolic, is the very smell and at
mosphere Of some of these great houses.
There are plenty of instances; but you
couldn't begin with better one than the
Ear of the Eyres. BY the end OF the
week I think I can get you the truth
FRANCIS FINN"
Mr.. Button reflected q moment
staring at his left boot; then he called
out in q strong, loud, and entirely life
less voice, in which every syllable
sounded alike:
miss Barlow, take down letter to
Mr.. Finn. please. Dear Finn: think
it would do. Copy reach US second
post Saturday. Yours, E Button"
This elaborate epistie he articulated
as If it were all one word, and Miss
Barlow ratified it down as if it were
all one word. Then he took up another
strip of proof and a blue pencil. and
altered the word Supernatural" to the
word marvellous" and the expression
shoot down. to the expression ~re-
press"
In such happy, healthfui activities
did Mr.. Button disport himself until
the ensuing Saturday found him al the
same desk, debating to the same typist.
and using the same blue pencil on the
first installment of Mr.. Firms revela-
tons. Though written violently, it was
in excellent English; butt the editor. as
usual, had given to somebody else the
task of breaking it up into subheadings.
which were of a spicier sort, as
"Peeress and Poisons," THE Eerie
Ear" "The Eyres in Their Eerie,' and
so on through a hundred happy changes.
Then followed
THE LEGEND OF THE EAR.
was walking along a public path
which threads through a private Dew
onshire orchard, and seems to point
toward Devonshire cider. when/I came
suddenly upon just such place as the
path suggested. 1t was a long, low
inn, consisting really of . cottage and
two barns, matched all over with the
thatch that looks like brown and gray
hair grown before history. But out.
side the door was a sign which called
it the Blue Dragon. and under the sigr
was one of those long rustic table.
that used TO stand outside most of the
free English inns befor. teetotailer.
and brewers. between them. destroyed
freedom. And at this table sat three
gentlemen who might have lived 4
hundred years ago.
Now that l know them all better
h there is no difficulty about disentang
ling the impressions: hut iust then the,