Year: 1873

SECRETS OF THE SANcTUM,- hum
orist of the Detroit Free Press observes
that there is always one vacant chair in
the sanctum of every daily paper, or i,
would be vacated for tho right man. It
is the position of "really very good. but
we haven't room for 1t, "1man. When a
young man wearing very exultant coun.
tenance, walks into the editorial rooms
with a bundle of manuscript under his
arm, all the staff know what is coming
He has been writing an ode to spring, or
poem on the fast disappearing Indian
race, or FIVE hundred verses on the power
of love. 1t is really wonderful how san.
guine he is. Tie has selected this par.
ticular paper as a grea. favor to the paper
and be is certain that the publishers
won't think Of offering him less than q
dollar verse, and after they have hand.
ed him the money they will pat him on
the back and say "Go on, young man
there is wealth of laurels for you in
the future" He walks around the roo n
few times to collect himself, and ther
goes for the nearest man. He is referred
to "the man in the other room,' and the
man in the other room heaves sigh as
he secs him enter. "Heres few verses
on springtime, which l dashed off the
other day. says the young man. as be
deposits the roll on the table. "You car
look over them. and | will call for the
money on Saturday" He goes out, and
the recipient Of the roll unrolls it, feels
his hair raise up as he sees that some
lines have ten fleet, others six, and tina,
pile driver could not pound the metre
into shape. He puts it away and begins
to dread Saturday. Saturday comes
and with it tho young man, who expects
check and compliment. He sits
down, and there is long pause. The
editor would rather attack n Bogardus
kicker than to say what he must say, but
he finally gets around to it. "Very
qood-seasona written but
ah !-ahem we haven't room for il just
at present you'd better send it to the
New York Poet.


The young man gets up with all awful
look Of contempt and revenge on his
face, seizes the roll, and goes out feeling
that he shall be an enemy Of the paper
the editors, reporters. compositors and
apprentices forever after. This is only
an illustrative case. There is the woman
who has written nineteen verses on her
dead baby the old maid who has hashed
up ballad and wants to be brought out
as the author; the young mao in love,
who has written a poem on his Hannah
and five or six others. Each one must
be refused in such manner as not Ia
wound his feelings, aud yet his feelings
will be wounded. If he hadn't cont in
the world, and was in need Of bread, he
wouldn't feel half so bad to be refused a
cash lean as he would to be told that his
would to be told that his poetry wasn't
first .class, and that he'd better turn his
attention to a trade The poets are not
all, There is the man with the Essay
on Sober Second Thought y the man with
the two columns on 1.-The Degeneration
Of American Politics." aud scores of men
with essays on this and that, which no
one but the writer would read. They
must be met, repulsed and got rid Of
and though the editor is as as tender as a
lover, the chances are that within three
days he will receive letter reading
something like this:


"Dear Sir-Owing to the fact that my
article on the Regeneration Of Mum
mics did not appear in your issue O
Wednesday, you can stop my paper. |
shall subscribe to the Ark, which is 4
liye,go.ahead daily, fully up to the times
Yours, -"