Life — April 15, 1897 — page 6: what you’re looking at

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

, TOO! WONDERFUL! THE NEW JOURNALISM, Epitor “Morninc Drepce:” DEAR SiR: Hearing that you are in need of a good freak or feature editor, I would respectfully offer my services. Have been in the newspaper business for several years, and have had wide experience in all its new branches. Ama good swimmer and sprinter, and can feign insanity with success. I think I can truthfully say that I can't be beat in managing bread funds, soup kitchens, clothing bureaus, or any other form of charity. Do you remember when a certain paper solicited donations of cast-off clothing and sold them to the worthy poor who could show five coupons from its editorial page? It was me done that. lama king-pin at voting contests. Do you remember the time when a paper had a contest to vote for the most popular murderer unhung, by the boys and girls of our public schools which had coupons to write their voteson? Do you remember how acommittee of representative school children presented the prize to the murderer in his cell, and a few weeks later the same children laid a floral noose on his coffin? It was me done that. It has seemed to me that your hounding department needed a man of experience to put some life into it. Do you remember how a paper in this town found out that a certain lady that was prominent in charitable societies and church work had a brother in Joliet for forgery, and got up double-column portraits of the two of them, with a history of the family, and a signed statement by a man that had been their coachman for ten years? And do you remember that the lady was run out of town, she felt so broke up? It was me done that. Hoping you will recall these spreads that I refer to, and give mea chance to get up some new features for you, Yours truly, Te WILLIAM SEWER-Gas. P, S.—Excuse mistakes if any found, as writing 1s not very much in my line. A BRIGHT YOUTH. LD MAN: Here is a check, my son. And now tell me what lesson you have learned from this unpleasant experience. - His Son: To come to you, sir, when it is repeated. A SPRING POEM. H! gentle Spring is here at last, My soul no longer grieves; With overflowing heart I note The budding of the leaves. But, oh! the ball-room, dark and still, Beauty no longer floods; My pulse beats sadly as I note The leaving of the buds ! Harold MacGrath, CUSTOM-MADE ANECDOTES. CHOATE’S APT RETORT. HE celebrated Joseph Choate, who once ran for Senator of the United States and was incidentally a lawyer, was upon one occasion traveling on the choo-choo cars, when a serious accident occurred, killing three men, telescoping the baggage car, demoralizing the engine and causing a delay of several hours at an uninhab- ited crossing. Upon recovering consciousness, Choate. who found himself pinned down under a heap of wreckage, was informed that they would be detained until five o'clock, when a relief train would come. In order to pass away the time during the interval, however, one Chauncey Depew, a local wit of no mean ability, would regale them with some inimitable tales. Where- upon Choate, raising himself with difficulty upon his elbow and hastily consulting his watch, ex- claimed: ‘‘ Ah! this is more serious than I had first supposed. I find that I am unable to move out of hearing.” ““WHY DO YOU CALL YOUR CONTRIBUTORS ‘ HACKS’? ‘BECAUSE THEY DRIVE ME TO DRINK."