Rensselaer Republican, Volume 15, Number 42, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 28 June 1883 — OUR FUNNY MEN. [ARTICLE]

OUR FUNNY MEN.

The Humorous Writers of America. It is easier for a camel to run a needle into its eye than for a man to write humorous articles for a newspaper and keep it up for any length of time. Almost any dude can revamp a paragraph of wit. rewrite an article than has bubbled out of some man of brains and then show his weakness by running about an office or circle of acquaintances reading what he would hare them believe to be original with him when it is only stolen and weakened by alteration. The man of humor cannot be a bad man. He may not be successful as a business man or he may be, but he works harder, thinks more, studies more, observes more, and is ever more on the alert than the people think for. The humorous writer who can interest people and give them something to think of and to laugh over is more of a benefactor to the human race than are a thousand of these , old-style sermonisers who preach total depravity and at funerals console the mourners by a solemn, pulpit-projected statement that it is but a short distance to hell, and that the gates are wide open. There are but few really humorous writers, or writers of genuine humor in tide country. There are man slingers «f slush and boilers of blackguardism, but few who are men of real clean wit, nd it is good to know that they are becoming more and more appreciated. 80 lew men of brains have ever been witty or original that the majority of mossbacks having no wit in themselves, burn lor years been trying to educate people to believe that wit and humor m a writer or speaker are belittling, when such is not the case. In Congress few men accomplish so much as does 8. 8. Cox, a man of wit, and power and ability, or Proctor W. Knott, who, when sufficiently stirred, once on a time, gave out a tidal wave of humor and sarcasm that nearly washed Duluth entirely away. Among the regular humorous writers fur the press, and we consider at the bead of the profession, or rather in advance of the line, is Burdette, hotter known as Bob Burdette, of the >urfington (Iowa) Hawkeye. He is a fountain of wit, humor, pathos, fervor and wonderfully-incisive magnetism. Loring and noble in his nature, tenderbeorted as a good mother, quick to catch an idea, he is pre-eminent as a wit and humorist whose fame will long •nilive him, and who by his points is ■owing seeds of good thought in tens of thousands of ininds. No brighter star baa ever arisen in the literary firmament off America— none will shine clearer or

Bill Nye, formerly of ' the Laramie Boomerang, jumped at one bound elear over the garden-wall and struck right side up. His wit is of the broad-guage, many-pointed, uprreaching and downdriving kind. It is broad, original, grotesque, irresistible. It takes in men, measures and melodies; nothing is too small to escape his notice, nothing too large to be exempt from the flashes of lightning that dart out from his brain, to quiver and to transfix whatever object is struck. Like a cyclone it rises and gets right away to its business, tearing up shams and leaving the flowers to bloom, blossom and purify. C. B. Lewis, of the Detroit FreePress, is one of the most wonderfully gifted of writers. He writes as though his life had been made sad and bitter at some time by others, and as though a great soul had beeh wounded and almost crushed, but not to the deadening of pity or charity. He is witty, sarcastic, pathetic, and remarkably clear in his descriptions. He has probably written more of genuine humor than has any other man in America. His “M. Quad” articles, court reports and Lime Kiln Club sketches are all rare pictures of life and its results. His reputation is world wide, and though he is not so well-known as are his writings, he is loved and respected by the entire editorial fraternity, as he deserves to be. George'' W. Peck, of Peck’s Sun, ranks among the brightest geniuses of the age. From the time his Terrance McGrant chapters, as published by him in a little paper at Ripon. Wis., attraeted the attention of the editor of the La Crosse Democrat years ago, his career has been upward, till now no humorous writer in the world is more prominent. His wit is eternally flashing. Birth and death, politics, business and pleasure, weddings and funerals alike excite it, and his imagination is to it as a supply inexhaustible. What he has not seen his imagination supplies without stint or limit. But little escapes his notice, while all is grist that comes to his mill. In conversation as in his writings he is the same genial, witty, thought-inciting and mirth-pro-voking man with growing faculties. His paper has an immense circulation, built up chiefly by his recitals of Peck’s Bad Boy, which chapters outrank the doings of Percival Keene, as told by Maryatt, and which work did more to build up his reputation than any other that flowed from his brain to the paper under his pen. Peck is stronger in his wit than in his pathos or sarcasm and more than rugged in his protesqueness of expression.

W. J. Lampton, of the Drummer, at Cincinnati, is another ready wit, terse sketch writer and pen photographer of moods and incidents. We have not the pleasure of his acquaintance, but know that his writings are keen, witty, brilliant, and are becoming more and more sought after. , C. H. Harris, better known as “Carl Petzel,” of the National Weekly, at Chicago, is another man in whom runs a vein of deep, irresistable humor. Some of the most grotesque utterances ever written are from his pen. As a German dialectician and stringer of witty, keen absurdities he has no equals, though his wit is not so even as is that of some of those above mentioned, or so fresh and clear as it would be w’ere he to give less thought to politics and let himself out as a writer. Many of his German sketches are incomparable. Too modest to push the circulation of his paper and giving to business cares more time than a writer should, he has not as yet reached the position he is justly entitled to, and to which he is steadily rising. In his writings there is sense, wit, pathos and such keenness that those who are friendly to shams are often offended at the dexterity of his thrusts when they should pnofit by his utterances. A writer of genuine humor that is usually free from the bark of vulgarism that Some writers contend is necessary to form a perfect tree, he, too, will live long in memory and rank high among the men of wit and merit. The name of his paper militates against his success, as there is nothing personal or suggestive in it, but it contains some of the best things written.

Among the phenomenal successes of this country is the Texas Siftings, edited by two of the keenest wits in the would, Alex. E. Sweet and J. A. Knox. 'They are quick to see, sure to catch, and remarkably clever in the presentation of the ideas which swarm about them as stars abound in the milky way. Where they are from we know not. Like a sharp, full-breasted meteor this paper rose in the South, shooting northward and there it stays, fresh, keen, brilliant, powerful, growing in altitude and intensity to the disgust of hundreds of editors in the South who wonder and wonder and wonder how such things, which are beyond their comprehension, can be. 'Bhis paper has an immense circulation as its writ flashes and flashes and satisfies tens of thousands of active minds in Northern States, in proof that people here-away know and appreciate good things, no matter where from. The extensive circulation of Texas Siftings in the Northern States is doing more to bring Northern and Southern people together in sentiment and commonness of purpose than has ever, been done by prayer, pulpit pounding or powder. Bright flashes of wit stopping short at. exactly the right place, telling hits and lines of deep, steady humor irrisistible fill the Siftings each week, as its editors are rising and rising in the long white robes of success. The Arkansaw Traveler, at Little Bock, Ark., edited by Opie P. Read, is another brilliant meteor rising from the land that was devastated. Read is the author of “Plantation Proverbs,’ and holds place in the front rank of humorous writers. He gleans in all

fields, gathers ideas from all kinds of incidents and quickens them with keen, ready wit that flows steadily as doeS a perpetual stream of living water. The Traveler is starting on its mission of cheerfulness and is one of the coming papers, as its brilliant, brainy editor is one of the smartest, raeiest writers in the country. Sam W. Small, editor of the Georgia Major, at Atlanta, Ga., is well and. widely known as “Old Si,” the quaint, quizzical and supposed venerable darkey, whose head is full of ideas above his station or ability of language. “Old Si" is quoted from the extreme point in the South to the British possessions, and the Georgia Major is one altogether lovely and interesting. Its editor shows his mettle in the statement that his paper is published with great power (though weekly), and that its editor is a lover of his countrymen and especially his countrywomen. “Old Si” appears to be the running mate of Brother Gardner, of the Lime Kiln Club, and, as they go, is for first prize and not for consolation stakes. Then there is the bright, witty writer of paragraphs in the Herald at Norristown, Pa., whose pen is always spearing something good. And the “dodgasted” inventor of rage and nonsense who writes the Spoopendyke papers for the Brooklyn Eagle, another odd stick that is about clear sassafras. And Chas. D. Keep, editor of the Wall street Daily News, which always contains a few diamonds of wit that are copied up and gobbled down as roosters take corn.

Jas. T. Miller is another good one who is coining rapidly to the front in his Cheek of Chicago. But he is not coming on his Cheek so much as on his brain, which is laden with spices and essential oils, so that Cheek carries on each trip a first-class cargo. Miller is wise, witty, eppigramatic, quick to see and to flash his bull’s eye lantern across an object, and is coming to the front to try titles with the best of them. A. Minor Griswold, better known as the “Fat Contributor,” late editor of the Cincinnati Saturday Night, is one of the most prominent wits, punsters and humorists of this country. He, too, is a lecturer, and a good one, many of the best things ever printed in this country are from his pen, and though hundreds and thousands of puns flashes and witticisms are stolen by the pious pickers of the country press, Gris, jogs along as usual, good-natured, generous, letting fall nuggets and are picked up and appreciated as they should be. The Marathon (N. Y.) Independent is another paper whose editor has brains, sense, wit and ambition. Ed. L. Adams is its editor and he is fast making his paper noted and causing people to inquire as to the size and whereabouts of Marathon. No pent-up Utica contracts his rising power. His paper is widely quoted as its paragraphs are unusually pointed, witty and close-fit-ting. Almost any man can write a long article but it takes a good man to let go when he has said enough. The Argus, at Evansville, Ind., has another lightning calculator at its helm. He gets in the sharpest kind of licks, quick, and always center shots. We do not know his name, but he is a good one whose name will soon be booming over the country. Grip, published at St. Joe, Mo., is a bright paper, and-if it would omit the rough things that occasionally find their way into its columns, it would soon go flying over the country. Some of its paragraphs are bright and witty, terse and rememberable, showing that its editor has good stuff hi him which in time will run clear and clean for the pleasure and benefit of all concerned. Eugene Field, of the Denver Tribune, is coming rapidly to the front as a genuine wit, and the writer of some of the most pleasing poems ever penned. His great forte is sarcasm, scalping of an opponent, and he does it with pen so keen and aim so true, that the poor devil of a victim writhing under the torture, though mad enough to turn the entire Feld clear over, is rather proud that he has attracted the attention of an expert. America has reason to be proud of her humorous writers, and if we can obtain photographs of them all for a choice album set apart for the Wits of America, we shall prize such a collection more than we would its weight in gold.— Pomeroy’s Democrat.