Judge — May 1, 1897 — page 6: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

292 Suage THE EDITOR UNDER- STOOD. é HE editor of a certain great paper 7 EWG T in the metropolis would not Wh UIT AG, publish a line of poetry if he could VG Ree. help it. But the publisher and busi- qe y) a fi ness manager of the paper have no } such prejudice, for they sometimes il" ) want to please an advertiser who pays the regular rate of twenty-five cents per agate line. ‘There are many rumors afloat \ G on Park row as to why this editor A\ refuses to buy and print poetry. He is reported to have said, “I don't understand poetry. I never did and I never will.” And so all the old-time poets eee / of Printing-house square have tak- y ips HIDING HIS “LIGHT UNDER A BUSHEL, en the editor at his word, as they \A el Uf know it is folly to submit their NZ g rhymes to a man who doesn’t want them and who wouldn't understand them. WIE ¢ One young western rhymester, a recent arrival in the metropolis, had heard of this editor who didn’t understand poetry, but he would not believe. He determined to find out for him- self, He visited the office and, after unwinding a roll of red tape, was admitted into the presence of the editor. “Well, what can I do for you?” inquired the editor, looking up over his glasses. oan “T have GETTING USED TO TORTURE. here some This is not a new method of suicide. It is Algy Dude- poetry for ‘igh’s way of training himself so that he can wear his new collar. you,” replied the youth, “Let me read you a few stanzas.” And he began reading the lines. Suddenly the editor interrupted him with the remark, “Stop! I suppose you want money for this — stuff?” “Yes; that is just what I want for this stuff—money !" the poct shouted defiantly as he made good his escape. In a neighboring café the young poet met his friend, who was waiting to hear the returns. “Well, what did I tell you?" the friend remarked. “You said that he could not understand my poetry,” replied the youth ; “but, let me tell you, I never met an editor who understood the meaning of poetry better than this very man. He knew exactly what 7 wanted.” LJ. VANCR, THE VERY MAN! The Reverend Dr. Thirdly—“And now, children, | wonder if any little boy or girl here knows who was the best man that ever lived. TIME TO QUIT THE GAME. Ab, there's a hand up. We'l, Johnny, who was the best man that ever Conen—"* I trop oudt.” lived 2” Geprstein (curiously) —"* Vhy did you trop oudt? Icklestein don'd loog like Johnny Secondcrop—" Please, sic, it was mamma's first husband, he had a good handt.” rary COHEN (Anowingly)—"* Yes ; but dot’s vhen he is alvays der mosd dangerous.” 5" (yw a A! SPRUNG FROM THE OLD REVOLUTIONARY STOCK. comicbooks.com