Thirsting For A Duel

Ihe New Orleans Picayune says : That ery cléver story, ■' Tyranteler of Calieras," just now going the rounds, reoalls ri incident which took place in the New rleans Picayune office many years ago, hen George Washington Hoeder presied over the pólice columns. Reeder was very small, not over tour feet six nches in height, singularly youthful in ppearance, and given to a pompous, ovrwhelming, elabórate politeness, which, n connection with his dirninutive stature nd magnificent costume, generally reininded one of a benevolent but highly iplomatic tomtit. Everybody liked him, laughed kindly t his little peculiarities, and respected ie brave and chivalrous spirit which ïey had found to be among hia characreristics. To see Keeder in tho editorial room, eceiving an irate party, and particularr one ot the rougher species, was a privege to be eternally grateful for. His microscopio size, his gorgeous toilet lis profuse courtesy, and his graniloquent address were simply rnusing. Callers with well-defined inuries, but limited intellect, went away n the firm conviction that Keeder thought ïem the purest, loftiest and most perseuted of mortals. Entering the Picayune ifice with the rooted purpose of man;ling and bruising the chroniclers of leir complications, they would retire elieving that Reeder was too angelic for lis world, and that his reforences to aein were made only after a bitter struggle with remorseless duty and at the expense of a bleeding heart. He was perfectly ready to fight, however, when the occasion deinanded it, and thereby hanga a tale. One day, an enormous, rongh, ferocious looking man entered the office and inquired for the editor. Much to his sorrow, Keeder had to say that the editor was absent. " I'ra sorry o' that," said the big man, 8Ïtting down and depositing a large, spongy carpet-bag near his chair. " I Btopped over one day juatto see him. I'm froui Texas, you know, and I saw something about Texas in this morning's Picayune that sorter riles me. I was going home, but I thoght I'd like to see the editor before I passed. I want to see him alone for about two minutes - that's all." And here the visitor's voice grew plaintive, and his fingers played with the hilt of a Colt'i anny revolver which hung in full view from his belt. i ' I regret extremely, sir, that the editor happens to be ou_t just now. I feel sure, trom the impreasion you make on me, that he would esteem it a privilege to meet you. He would like you to take back to Texas his assurances oí friendship and admiration. Couldn't you, my dear sir, couldn't you cali a little later." " Well, 1 guess I will come again, long as I'in here to-morrow anyhow. You see, it would make thiugs easier like if I was to meet that editor. About six in the afternoon he returned. Nobody but Reeder happened to be in. " So sorry, my dear sir, but the editor has not yet appearcd. Pray be seated, sir, and permit me to enjoy the accident which has made us acquainted." " Now, I think this rather a hard case," said the brawny Texan, who said he was beginning to be impatient. " Here's a paper that pitches into Texas, and so to speakt bulirags the Texans, and when I cali to see about it, there's no one in. - Whero I live things are different. If a paper makes any unpleasant romarks about a gentleman, we always. know what to do. We just walk around to the office, and the editor is there, ready to give it to us any way we want it. But hore you have other fashions. You run on Texas like blazes in the morning, pretty soon I cali - being the only Texan in the city, to talk with the editor a little in a genteel way, I am informed that the editor is out, and I don't like it. If a paper has an editor who is always away, it ought to have a responsible man." " Pardon me," says Keedor, stepping daintily into the middle of the room, with one hand thrust into his bosom and a face literally beaming with good nature. " Pardon me a thousand times. I quite misunderstood you. If it is a responsible man you're seekiug, that's another thing " " Certainly. That's all I want ; a responsible man - somebody I can rassel with about this article. That's what I've been saying all the time." " Behold him ! George Washington Reeder, at your service, eir. I am the responsible man of this paper, sir." The astouished giant looked at Reeder, and then at his pistol, which was nearly as large as Reeder, and his face became a battle-ground where surprise, disappointment, disgust, and amusement struggled for predominance. Then he stuck the pistol back into the case, picked up his carpet-bag, and eyeing Reeder all over with disparaging regard, blurted out the exclamation : " Hell ! " And left, a swindled and injured man.