Democratic Sentinel, Volume 1, Number 46, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 28 December 1877 — A Call Upon an Editor. [ARTICLE]

A Call Upon an Editor.

“ From the sample trunks in the hallways of the hotels, we should judge the drummers from New York houses have arrived in town,” was the innocent paragraph a Western editor wrote for his paper. When he returned from dinner the grinning office-boy announced to him that four gentlemen were waiting to see him. “Where are they?” asked the quillclriver. “ Well,” says the imp, “ they’ve been smoking in the composing-room till the compositors have sneezed all the type out of their sticks, ’u they’ve sent me out six times for beer, ’n now they’re playing draw-poker with the foreman on the imposing-stone. ” “Verywell,” said the editor, bringing a large club in the comer more into view, replacing the paper-cutter with a bowie-knife, and lialf opening a drawer in which reposed a revolver, “show ’em in.” Four gentlemen in very plain suits, with very large diamond pins, and very large watch-chains, with lockets at the ends as big as dollars, entered, the foremost laying a card on the desk, inscribed: SHARP, CHISEL & CO., 1,000 Beekman street, New York, Hardware and Cutlery. in small letters, and Presented by GEO. GOUGE, in very large ones, asked: “Are you the editor?” The journalist looked at the party quietly, as if calculating the cost of their graveelothes, and answered: “I am.” “Here is a little paragraph about commercial travelers,” said Mr. Gouge, pulling a paper from liis pocket, “which me and my friends, who are members of the Temple of Honor, and belong to the Youug Men’s Christian Association, of New York, would like explained. ” The miserable man took the paper mechanically, and gazed at his paragraph, which the printers had set as follows: “ Jt’rom the simple drunks in the hallways of hotels, we should judge the drunkards from New York houses have arrived iu town.” Quietly taking up his revolver, the editor strode upstairs. Two sharp reports and heavy falls were heard, and the journalist returned and pleasantly remarked to his visitors: “Gentlemen, there are not many entertainments in this town now, but a proof-reader and a compositor are to be buried to-morrow, and, if you care for that sort of thing, I should be pleased to see you at the funeral.” And he sat down to write an obituary notice, while that night, through the cold and heavy mist, four gentlemen bought railway tickets for Chicago.— Boston Bulletin.

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