Risen from the Ranks; Or, Harry Walton's Success
Page 32
CHAPTER XXXII.
THE YOUNG EDITOR.
The next number of the Centreville "Gazette" contained the followingnotice from the pen of Mr. Anderson:--
"For the first time since our connection with the 'Gazette,' wepurpose taking a brief respite from our duties. The state of ourhealth renders a vacation desirable, and an opportune invitation froma brother at the West has been accepted. Our absence may extend totwo or three months. In the interim we have committed the editorialmanagement to Mr. Harry Walton, who has been connected with thepaper, in a different capacity, for nearly three years. Though Mr.Walton is a very young man, he has already acquired a reputation, ascontributor to papers of high standing in Boston, and we feel assuredthat our subscribers will have no reason to complain of the temporarychange in the editorship."
"The old man has given you quite a handsome notice, Harry," saidFerguson.
"I hope I shall deserve it," said Harry; "but I begin now to realizethat I am young to assume such responsible duties. It would haveseemed more appropriate for you to undertake them."
"I can't write well enough, Harry. I like to read, but I can'tproduce. In regard to the business management I feel competent toadvise."
"I shall certainly be guided by your advice, Ferguson."
As it may interest the reader, we will raise the curtain and show ouryoung hero in the capacity of editor. The time is ten days after Mr.Anderson's absence. Harry was accustomed to do his work ascompositor in the forenoon and the early part of the afternoon. Fromthree to five he occupied the editorial chair, read letters, wroteparagraphs, and saw visitors. He had just seated himself, when a manentered the office and looked about him inquisitively.
"I would like to see the editor," he said.
"I am the editor," said Harry, with dignity.
The visitor looked surprised.
"You are the youngest-looking editor I have met," he said. "Have youfilled the office long?"
"Not long," said Harry. "Can I do anything for you?"
"Yes, sir, you can. First let me introduce myself. I am Dr.Theophilus Peabody."
"Will you be seated, Dr. Peabody?"
"You have probably heard of me before," said the visitor.
"I can't say that I have."
"I am surprised at that," said the doctor, rather disgusted to findhimself unknown. "You must have heard of Peabody's UnfailingPanacea."
"I am afraid I have not."
"You are young," said Dr. Peabody, compassionately; "that accountsfor it. Peabody's Panacea, let me tell you, sir, is the great remedyof the age. It has effected more cures, relieved more pain, soothedmore aching bosoms, and done more good, than any other medicine inexistence."
"It must be a satisfaction to you to have conferred such a blessingon mankind," said Harry, inclined to laugh at the doctor'smagniloquent style.
"It is. I consider myself one of the benefactors of mankind; but,sir, the medicine has not yet been fully introduced. There arethousands, who groan on beds of pain, who are ignorant that for thesmall sum of fifty cents they could be restored to health andactivity."
"That's a pity."
"It is a pity, Mr. ----"
"Walton."
"Mr. Walton,--I have called, sir, to ask you to co-operate with me inmaking it known to the world, so far as your influence extends."
"Is your medicine a liquid?"
"No, sir; it is in the form of pills, twenty-four in a box. Let meshow you."
The doctor opened a wooden box, and displayed a collection of veryunwholesome-looking brown pills.
"Try one, sir; it won't do you any harm."
"Thank you; I would rather not. I don't like pills. What will theycure?"
"What won't they cure? I've got a list of fifty-nine diseases in mycircular, all of which are relieved by Peabody's Panacea. They maycure more; in fact, I've been told of a consumptive patient who wasconsiderably relieved by a single box. You won't try one?"
"I would rather not."
"Well, here is my circular, containing accounts of remarkable curesperformed. Permit me to present you a box."
"Thank you," said Harry, dubiously.
"You'll probably be sick before long," said the doctor, cheerfully,"and then the pills will come handy."
"Doctor," said Ferguson, gravely, "I find my hair getting thin on topof the head. Do you think the panacea would restore it?"
"Yes," said the doctor, unexpectedly. "I had a case, in Portsmouth,of a gentleman whose head was as smooth as a billiard-ball. He tookthe pills for another complaint, and was surprised, in the course ofthree weeks, to find young hair sprouting all over the bald spot.Can't I sell you half-a-dozen boxes? You may have half a dozen fortwo dollars and a half."
Ferguson, who of course had been in jest, found it hard to forbearlaughing, especially when Harry joined the doctor in urging him topurchase.
"Not to-day," he answered. "I can try Mr. Walton's box, and if ithelps me I can order some more."
"You may not be able to get it, then," said the doctor, persuasively."I may not be in Centreville."
"If the panacea is well known, I can surely get it withoutdifficulty."
"Not so cheap as I will sell it."
"I won't take any to-day," said Ferguson, decisively.
"You haven't told me what I can do for you," said Harry, who foundthe doctor's call rather long.
"I would like you to insert my circular to your paper. It won't takemore than two columns."
"We shall be happy to insert it at regular advertising rates."
"I thought," said Dr. Peabody, disappointed, "that you might do itgratuitously, as I had given you a box."
"We don't do business on such terms," said Harry. "I think I hadbetter return the box."
"No, keep it," said the doctor. "You will be willing to notice it,doubtless."
Harry rapidly penned this paragraph, and read it aloud:--
"Dr. Theophilus Peabody has left with us a box of his UnfailingPanacea, which he claims will cure a large variety of diseases."
"Couldn't you give a list of the diseases?" insinuated the doctor.
"There are fifty-nine, you said?"
"Yes, sir."
"Then I am afraid we must decline."
Harry resumed his writing, and the doctor took his leave, looking farfrom satisfied.
"Here, Ferguson," said Harry, after the visitor had retired, "takethe pills, and much good may they do you. Better take one now forthe growth of your hair."
It was fortunate that Dr. Peabody did not hear the merriment thatfollowed, or he would have given up the editorial staff of theCentreville "Gazette" as maliciously disposed to underrate hisfavorite medicine.
"Who wouldn't be an editor?" said Harry.
"I notice," said Ferguson, "that pill-tenders and blackingmanufacturers are most liberal to the editorial profession. I onlywish jewellers and piano manufacturers were as free with theirmanufactures. I would like a good gold watch, and I shall soon wanta piano for my daughter."
"You may depend upon it, Ferguson, when such gifts come in, that Ishall claim them as editorial perquisites."
"We won't quarrel about them till they come, Harry."
Our hero here opened a bulky communication.
"What is that?" asked Ferguson.
"An essay on 'The Immortality of the Soul,'--covers fifteen pagesfoolscap. What shall I do with it?"
"Publish it in a supplement with Dr. Peabody's circular."
"I am not sure but the circular would be more interesting reading."
"From whom does the essay come?"
"It is signed 'L. S.'"
"Then it is by Lemuel Snodgrass, a retired schoolteacher, who fancieshimself a great writer."
"He'll be offended if I don't print it, won't he?"
"I'll tell you how to get over that. Say, in an editorial paragraph,'We have received a thoughtful essay from 'L. S.', on 'TheImmortality of the Soul.' We regret that its length preclu
des ourpublishing it in the 'Gazette.' We would suggest to the author toprint it in a pamphlet.' That suggestion will be regarded ascomplimentary, and we may get the job of printing it."
"I see you are shrewd, Ferguson. I will follow your advice."