The Miller press. [volume] (Miller, S.D.) 190?-current, 1922-01-12
By
Booth
Harrington
Copyright, l9e1
BY the Bell Syndicate, Ina

they got a desk from that nasty little
Henry RIOTERS mothers attic; and a
table and some chairs. and a map on
the wall and that's their newspaper
Office. They go out and look for what's
the news. and write ii down in ink
the other side of the railing where the
printing press is, and print it for then
newspaper"
But what do they do on the fence
so much?''
That's where they go TO watch
what the news is" Florence explained
mDrosely. '"They think they're SO
grand, sittin' up there. pokin' around.
They go other places, too; and they
ask people. That's all they said
could be Here the lady's bitterness
became strongly intensified. They
said, maybe | could be one o. the ones
they asked if ! knew anything, some
times, if they happen to think of 1t! !
just respectfully told 'em I'd decline to
wipe my oldest shoes on 'em to save
their lives !"
Mrs. Atwater sighed. "You mustn't
use such expressions, Florence"
Il don't see why not the daughter
objected. They're a lot more refined
than the expressions they used OH
me!". ....
Then Pm very glad you didn't play
with them"
But at this, Florence once more
gave way TO filial despair. MAMA,
you just can't see through anything!
I've said anyhow fifty times they amt
aren't playing! They're getting up a
real newspaper, and people buy it,
and everything. They have been all
over this part of town and got. every
aunt and uncle they have, besides their
own fathers and mothers, and some
people in the ne!ghborhood. and Kitty
Silver and two or three other colored
people besides, that work for families
they know. They're going to charge
twenty-five cents a year, collect-in-ad.
n because they want the money
first; and even papa gave EN- a guar
ter last night, he told me So"
How often do they publish their
paper, Florence?" Mrs. Atwater in.
quired somewhat absently, having re-
sumed her sewing.
Every week; and they're goin' to
have the first one a week from to.
day."
What do they call it?"
"The North End Daily Oriole. It's
the %Silliest name | ever heard for a
newspaper; and | told 'em Sc. | told
EN- what l thought of 1t, | guess!"
"Was that the reason?" Mrs. At.
water asked.
WAS ii what reason, mamaT"
"Was it the reason they wouldn't
let you be a reporter with them?"
"Pooh! !" Florence exclaimed airily.
II didn't want anything to do with
their ole paper. But anyway | didn't
make fun o. their calm 1t the North
End Daily Oriole till after they said
| couldn't be in 1t. Then l did, you
bet Z"
Florence, don't say"
Mama. | got to say somep'm! Well,
| told 'em / wouldn't be in their ole
paper If they begged me on their bent.
ed knees; and | said If they begged
me a thousand years / wouldn't be
in any paper with such a crazy name;
and l wouldn't tell EN- any news II
| knew the President of the United
States had the scarlet feverl / just
politely Informed 'em they could say
what they liked IL they was dying; J
declined so much as wipe the oldest
shoes I got on 'em!"
"But why wouldn't they let you be
on the paper?" her mother insisted.
Upon this Florence became analyti.
cal. "Just SOS they could act so i'm
portantr" And she added, as a con.
sequence: '"They ought to be arrest.
ed"
Mrs. Atwater murmured absently,
but forbore TO press her inquiry and
Florence was silent. I'm a brooding
mood. The journalists upon the fence
had disappeared from view, during the
conversation with her mother; and
presently she sighed and quietly left
the She went to her own apart
ment, where, at a small and rather
battered little white desk, after a pc
riod of earnest reverie, she took up
a pen, wet the point in purple ink, and
without any great effort or any criti-
cal delayings. produced a poem.