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The Centennial Fiend

The Centennial Fiend image
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It was only half an bour beforo the paper went to presa, but he walleed unerringly, into the editor's private room and, dropping his bat over the warning placard of " Busy Day- Short Calis," seated himaelf with easy bar-room politeness on the table with the exchanges. He was dressed in an Ulster and soiled ruffled shirt, wore an amethyst about the size of a hoek glass on his third finger and cluster pin in his bosom. He tooka " seven-for-a-quarter " cigar froni his ïnouth and, placmg it on the editor's inkstand, remarked oonfidentially : "I am going to spend some time this year" - The editor clutched his pen like a dagger, and pawing after the few hairs on the top of his head, said - - "in Philadelphia"- The young man spat gracefully over his left shoulder on the new carpet, and responded - " Yes, I've done a littfe writin' in my day, and bein' disengaged this sitmnier should like to send a first-class journal like yours" - The editor feil back in his chair, and gasped - "some letters about the Centennial." The interviewer nodded and kicked his No. 1 Is pensively against the veneered panels of the desk. "Would you like to be packed in ice until your friends cali for you ?" said the editor, gloomily, " or shall ye forward your remains in an aii-tight casket V' Then gazing sorrowfully at the young man he put his mouth to a tipea'iing tube and asked - " Are any of. the pressmen at hand ? Promptly wafted through the tin tube came the reply - " Bed MiKe and Big Dan, sir." The would-be correspondent starteil up aghast, pat his hat on, wrong sido il front, and buttoned the third button of his coat into the second button-hole ; but the newspaper man, taking no more notice of him than he would of a dead head advertisement, breathed through the tube - "Give 'em a quarter apiece and let them come up here. Teil them there is another of those Philadelphia Centennial fellows here, and then pull in a district telegraph boy and send for hearse." Before the last words were in the speaking-tube the tails of the Ulster coat sailed out of the private office, and a nervous young man, after trying the door of the coat room and diving into the eoal closet, reached the counting room door, looked over his shoulder af two brawny Milesians who had just descended from some upper región, missed his footing for a dozen stairs, accented his decent with a heavy bump on the flrst landing, and reached the street as the editor wrote the last word of an article on " the business ontlook " and calmlv sent it whirring up in the box to


Old News
Michigan Argus