A PERSECUTED JOURNALIST.

Temuka Leader, Volume 2, Issue 143, 7 May 1879, Page 3

A PERSECUTED JOURNALIST.

That the editor of every daily paper is T)crsccnted by poetasters is an unquestionable fact ; and it is probable that some of the worst of the sufferers would be justified in taking extreme measurers to protect themselves from such outrages. But that Major Siott of the ‘Patroit’ ever proposed to murder a poet in self-defence i doubt. The editor of a rival sheet in our county declares, however, that the major actually thirsts for blond ; and in proof of the assertion he has printed the following narrative, which, he says, he obtained from Mr Grady, the policeman : _ “ One day recently the major sent for “ tJSe force, arrived, the Major shut the door of his sanctum and asked him to take a scat. “‘Mr Grady/ he said, ‘your profession necessarily brings von into contact with the criminal classes and yon with them. This is why I have sent for you. My business is of a confidential nature, and 1 trust to your honour.lo regard it as a s ered trust confided in you. Mr Grady. 1 wish to ascertain if among your acquaintances of the criminal sort you kn ow of any one who is a professional assassin—who rents himself out to any ■one who wants to destroy a fellow creature ? Do you know of such a person ? ’ “ ‘ I dunno as i do/ said Mr Grady, thoughtfully rubbing his chin. ‘There’s not much demand for murderers now/ “ ‘ Well/ said the editor, ‘ I wish veu'd look around and see if you can light on such a man, and get him to do a littie job for me. I want a butcher who will slay a person whom I will designate. I don’t care how he does it. tie may stab him, or drown him, or bang him with a shot-gun. It makes no difference to me ; I will pay him all The same. Now, will you get me such a man ? ’

“ 1 I s’pose I might. I’ll look round, any way,’ “ 1 Between you and mo,’ said the editor, 1 the chap I’m going to assassinate is a poet—a fellow named Markley. He has been sending poetry to this paper every day for ciglit months. 1 never printed a line, but ho keeps starring it in as if ho thought I was depositing it in the bank and drawing interest on it. Well, sir,it’s got to ho so bad that it annoys me terribly. It keeps me awake at night. I’m losing flesh. That man and his poetry haunt me. I’m getting gloomy and morose. Life is beginning to pall upon mo. I seem to be under the influence of perpetual nightmare. I can't stand it modi longer, Hr Grady, this man must die. Selfpreservation is the first law of nature. I have a wife and children ; I conduct a great T* educate the public mind. My Dfe is valuable to my country. Destroy' tins poet, and future generations will praise your name. He must be wiped out, exterminated, obliterated from the face _ of theKill him dead and bury him deep, ami fix him so’s lie will stay down, and bring in the bill for the tombstone. I. leave the case to you. Aou need no! tell'im you have dune this job. When thb-g., i-.’s cease to come to me, I will know that he is dead. That will settle it. Good morning.’ '’ It is believed that the poet must have been warned by Grady, for the supplies suddenly ceased ; and Markley is saving updiis effusions for some other victim. —Max Adder.