The Acting Editor.

King Country Chronicle, Volume III, Issue 118, 24 December 1908, Page 5

The Acting Editor.

(By W. A. Horn)

'I was on a lecturin' tour out West, and a friend of mine who was runnin' a newspaper was called away suddenly, and ne asked me to run the next issue. Now, I'm not a man as likes to sit twiddlin' his thumbs an' doin' nothin'. I made up my mind to make that issue one that would ketch on. So I set down an' wrote a sub-leader on some of the local gold bugs that I thought would make 'em sit up some. On the mornin' of the issue I was sittin' in the editorial sanctum when a fellar come to the door lookin' 'bout as mad as a wounded grizzly. Says he: 'ls the editor of this darned rag on the premises?' Naow I guessed there was goin' to be trouble for somebody right away, an' I didn't want that somebody to be yours truly. So I says: 'Waal no, he ain't right here naow, bout if your bizziness is pressin' I'll find him and send him up.' "Says he: 'My bizziness is urgent, and won't admit of no delay whatsumever. I want to see that editor right now, an',l guess I'll make him squirm like a speared eel.' 'Take a seat,' says I, 'an' I'll try an' find him,' an' with that I went out an' shut the door. You bet your bottom dollar I didn't waste no time goin' down them stairs. No, siree, I went down like a streak of greased lightenin' but when I reached the front door, I run kerslap into another fellar just coming in. He was about six foot high, an' he had a three foot cowhide quilter in his hand his eyes was blazin' like aderned catamount with his tail jammed under a cart wheel.

"Says he: 'ls that dawg-gawned skunk of an editor in?' Naow, sir, the presence of mind I displayed on that remarkable occasion was worthy of the best traditins of our great country. Yes, siree, I grasped the potentialities of the persition. Says I: 'He's upstairs sittin' in the room on the left of the top landin'. 'Thanks,' says he, an' up he goes three at a time. I waited till I heard sounds as of Homebody was dancin' highdalgo, or a fandando, or one o' them Spanish things, and then I didn' chase myself round my feet; no siree, not me. I guess I beat Deerfoot's record for a hundred as I sprinted across the street an' hid behind a coal waggon waitin' developmens. Presently Number Two comes struttin' down the street, hummin' the 'Star Spangled Banner,' an' lookin' as proud as a Shanghai rooster in cluckin' time. I noticed that this cowdhide was kind of bulged in the middle. Then I ketched sight of; Number One stagger in' along, with his necktie round under his left ear; his eyes was bunged up, an' his nose was all skinned, an' he was soppin' the blood off his mouth with a bandanner. [ noticed that one of his coat tails was missin.' I didn't run after him to ask if he'd found the editor, or to take his tempareture, or to offer to look for the missin' coat tail. No, siree, you bet [ didn't do none of them things. I guess just vamoosed the ranch, in case either of 'em come back; but I didn't edit no more papers in that town, not much!"