Image provided by: Eugene Water & Electric Board; Eugene, OR
About The Eugene weekly guard. (Eugene, Or.) 1899-1904 | View Entire Issue (Jan. 5, 1901)
Ei HA rum PB rhe ar« thot ■peciea, known. palm*, eluding fern, wi last na forest al the i»la specie* most io tree, yi but otb> p«-rcba, and s ■v item years. Uetw 0)0 acr b>'«n ca and l< rvgulat scientil u-tual t: tration. haa bee H a D The abreas headli| rnerelj gineer Each 1 It ligb only ol threw feet it Anyth sixteei the en the tn halt l> even I engine the ap suppli Tta touch by o comp1 year. Gieek 365 d behin day* i tninn lowed calenc It V Chic* alarm cloth! build" their TWENTIETH CENTURY I By JOE L1NCOLN~| "Very well," replied the haughty stran ger, and tbe barroom »ought be, While tbe editor eat chuckling, banking io a golden gleam. Waiting .-uvetous aud yearning till ho beard tboee steps returning— Heard the stranger on the stairway. Tben be woke—'twas all a dream. |!e hud »imply Icn reposing in his office chair an.l floxiag; There had be<» no wealthy stranger, there ha* been no money there, And 'he neigblK.rs came and fou* him. with bis "garden sass” around him, Counting types with maniac fervor and the pastebrusb in bis hair. XXX THE REPORTER'S TALE. A reporter grand was Augustus Crust; "DO TOO MX«« TOL'IJ. PAT IX MONETT Hi» motto was this. "Get nows or bust!” “t’re eight fifty. Is that plenty, or can There never was seen • the assignment tough you, sir, change a twenty?” made him quit or exclaim, Asked tbe stranger, and ths troubled rhat “Enough!'* scribe debated what to say, For that sordid, grasping feeling, lust for Ai. 1 this ia tbe tale of an Interview II< got for Tbe Daily Bumbazoo: gold, Wes o'er him stealing. And b« hated—ah, he hated to let nine I’tnnson Inker came o'er the sea; cents get away, A novelist great aud grand was be. And that clotcblng. avaricious appetite His books and stories were all tbe rage. for money, vicious. 1901 Copyright, 1900, by Jon Lincoln THE NL'.V YEAR NEWS Newel New»! News! Hrre'« tbe latrat news! Hryf Extra! The <lid Year found In tbe «now ! Tbe old Nineteenth Century with al«o; Both goua where dead years and centuries go. To tbe tomb of the past, 'ueath the yews And Ritra th»- Secondl Twio boy»—a flue pair - Are born tn Mu Eaitb aud I'u Tune, ne declare! A New Year aud Twentieth Centuiy fair! Aud bere's tbe latest nows! When sproutinir onion, scent the tirees. And soft winds through the whisker wbeene— In short, on on« day like to these, Upon a flying trolley car. Drawn thitherward from near and far, TTtrre Journeyed a "fair compnne* To pi.nic by the sounding sea. And here's n good luck aud a altar« ot the pelf fo each of Earth's sone, be he giant or elf. Front tho editor down to tbe "devil” bii.i self. Here's luck aud relief from the “blues I'o the printer who prints and the uewe boy who ciies. To the denier who sells and the read, who buys. Here's a Imppy New Year and a sba of the prise! Aud here s the latest news! HE JOURNALISTIC PILGRIM INTRODUCTION iluce, in tbe gladsome summer days, B lieu beus aud p.«‘t> prepare tbeir lay» When ice go. ■» up and men "come down" With cash for wifey's "mountain gown.' i lie trolley car got <>ff Hie Hack. Yi>d so to pa«» tlie time away be smooth Reporter said: "I say! .el'« tell s»»iue stories of tbe 'bls!' '* <;>•»• " cried the "Itovil." “Dst’s a wh. - ly. I'll tell mine, if he'll tell Lis!” le pointed to the Kditur, Vbo. seeiug be wa» waited for. .vinntkvd "Agrvvd! Aud, as at first, Hs always beat to know tbe «-».ret. I'll tell the tale that'« io my luiud \r.J lei tbe r«M Cail ill bvbmd.'* It X R THE EDITOR’S TAI E. Io hi« dual» «aix-tum. d»«ry. «at tl J» ui uniiat «o weary. Sat Hw »orried, careworn ewuer » the leuietown Nonpotvil. Writing coin tn n after column, local gvavv or gay or «oienin. TflK "'FAIR < omfanx K." An Editor their un» whose fame Mu.lv grv . The Daily Wbatsitsuame; Bee J« Li.i l.eto. with i areles» i « m -, A alar lb imiter frum The Breeze, And nett to ¡...o, with mk »tallied d-c-s. The l oti , <>f a city pie»«. And UA.t i|i fO th»' seat tbeivsut A I'nriier «eu lie and fat. While Uat aud much more “fre’b” the fair A 'T’rinter'» Devil.” too. wa« the.e. They’d wearied of th« sights of home. Ami each had longed to view the foam— Had loiu-ed tv »ee the balbere take Th.fr dip« and ducts and gaiYy lueak Th»' surf with thick hjaifc dots that mat» It look like huckleberry cake. But. as they journeyed, with a whack. Hard luck. Peleg.” "Moaes Wiggin- baa tawu painting up bis shed.” 'Mi«« Smith'« cat. without a warniur had a fit lastTuev.laf hu'rnfng " "Hauk Lutt'a got a girl iu Skakil an ia courting, so 'tia said.” Long he wrote thus, never »iwaklng. wit his rusty pen a-squeaklng: Then be paused sud rased despoorf.'t round abort the littered room. At the tins s >.f potato»* at the baskc of tomato««. At the btlthesoiue onions casting p . ■rent odor» through the glo.,m. And h» «at there and re fleet cd. tUl a length he moaned. dejected; " I low much longer how much loagei n i«t ! take such ’trueh" for **dsY "Gardvii »««»" ot all description« (Her rti «bal folks call evunipuons," Will my eardrums ne'er more tint e with the jingle ef the "scads?* “Teo long year» I’ve run this Jonrv*l and the t. wnsfolk cell me coHm U' And my list of paid subacripttoaa «ow has reacbi-d three ninety four. But. alas, »ach oae !« paid for tn tbe •tuff they u«e the «paj» far— ruin;kina, cabbage« «ud parsnip* breu and bean« and «bat »ot m<we? How my hungry e»>ul would 'hoU«c' tf my •yee brheld a dollar! How my starving puree would fatten if a quarter lay Inside!” Thu« be muaed a»d tbna be pleaded, while the tim» slipped by nnheededt Then h« started, for a «tiaagwr st<^ within tbe doorway wide. Chi dog a at a I in rag itors for th »<•« wiiw tos«.«» XVav I vaaB ec< " •turra roa 'arar* " For »hr owner was rvpi'rter, jra, • I editor as writ I. -• writing "Prlrit Sanders' swrr i ‘ •• sol tb« glanders; But he hated tbe sight of a paper's page. And the amooth reporter1» phis to him Wa« the erituaon rag to the bovine grim. They gave him up aa a stranger rud* Who «imply wouldn't b« Interviewed. They gave him ap, every mothar’a «on; All, did I say? No; all but one. That one was Augusta« Crust—to wit. The man who never was known to quit. He didn't give up; ah, no; not be! Though a fruit!»«« task It seemed to be. But awore a aw«ar that tn aplte of Fate He'd interview Inker soon or lata. flame day. somahow, tf he bad to wait Till had«« from and tbe Imps could skate. "I'm saved! I*m saved!" shrieked the au thor, glad. "Well, that depend*” said the "brav« fire lad." F. .ends on what, I should like to know?” "Depends on whether I let you go; For. if you'd flutter that window through, Y'bu'll kindly give me an interview For The Daily and Sunday Bumbaxoo. Dbn't fret, dear sir. for you see you must.” And the fireman smiled through his grime and dust Tbe sweet, smooth smile of Augustus Crust. Ta J th» étranger was »nd portly, w«ti a bvariof smooth and courtly. An* a g 'Idea watch chai*, heavy, atrvt.-h«d aero»» bls smpi« vwl. And hia doth»» were Is th« faahto*. an* th» ring» that on« saw flash »a Every fat and puffy fiugw wu«M bare Moo* tb» seid test ' I ah aid like," the stranger stats*. ’A» lawrt ea a*,' f«u rated. Half a page. «Ir: yon may ran ft fn» atha or moe* pervhanca ; too. foe ay brother. Ilk«- r my aunt aad «»tber. You mav makv re«e bill oat ■*». . I 1 will pay yw la a*e«ac*** H« leaped with fear from bl« «oft, warm . bed. Jnet as a Bangor ladder's head Brok» tbrodgb ths window with a crash And a flremaa leap«d through tbe shat ter«* saab. H« ««o»* hi« mind oa tbe tariff law; He flayed The preeideet red and rew. Our girls aud wdiueu. he said, wees bold; Our oilmat« "beastly" aud “blawstod oold.” And when he spok* t« explain his stead Oa Joumallam In thia broad land. Hia eeorchtiig aeateuc«« artt«d through A verba, hase ot a brtmstoa« bln* and "boodoo.” “My curse shall pursue you and them!" be declared In a howl like a gale through tbe trees. And his gray whiskers shook with bis tremors of rage. Like a field of buckwheat in a breese. “Your name shall be mud!” But Just then, from the hook From his “sleep of the Jn«t" and de scried A figure, diaphanous, spectral and pale. By each of the linotype«’ glide. It passed its cold claws o'er each lever and bolt; It noiselessly thumped on each key; Ah, heaven, what gbost could have whiskers like that But the ghost of Jehoshaphat B.? And the watchman, o’ercome by the hor rible sight. Rushed frantically forth and got speech lessly tight. hard hearted foreman that night dreamed a dream; dreamed the dead typesetter came bowled In hia ear, “You ar« 'hoo dooed' and done. And your cursed machines are the same." And when the next morning The Banner be read. In horror he gurgled for breath. For this the bewitched Mergvnthaler had typed As the tale of Jehoshaphat's death: “Jehoshaphat Bings, who for year« haz elia Dxxvdgtuye twgsfljhgn<h5uyetw9vd bf2 oqkqhr&fgtoia.” 'Twas but the beginning, th« corse was at work, Although for repairs went the cash, Or new machines came, it was ever th« same, Tbe news was all typed into bash. The foreman grew haggard, gray headed and thin And took, in his trouble, to drink. Until oue sad morn in tbe shop he was found With his head in a barrel of ink. HE WAS FOUND WITH HIS HEAD IN A BARREL And the linotype told of his suicide thus: OF INK. “John Typer, the formemwgsgehudhfglru Where for years it had stiffened and hjf5$3mu*” dried, Tbe printing house towel fell down on That foreman Is gone and forgotten, bat still his head. Tho shade of that "hoodoo" remain* And it fractured his skull, and he died. And there, mid the towel all broken to And many a linotype used In the land. Though handled with infinite pain* strings. There passed the sad soul of Jehoshsphat Has suddenly taken to printing its type« All muddled and mixed and askew Bings. And tossed in a wild alphabetical me«* Ere dawn ths night watchman awoke Like a warmed over boarding bouse with a start stew. And the workmen remark, as they tinker tbe things, •‘They've been touched by the ghost of Jehoshaphat Bings.” • • • • • • e The Foreman paused, na one who wakes From dreams that give his nerves the shakes. The "Devil” cried: “Dat yarn—why, xay! 'Twould give a guy de Willies; hey? Jest trow de calcium on me Fer ha’f a minute; huljy gee! 1'11 spring a tale dat’s up ter date. No pipe dream neider; good and straight. Then from his "Hogan’s Alley” tongue This story, filled with slang, he slung: showed him where de .“type lice bid, dey played him all de tricks; sent him round de town ter git "italic shoot'n sticks.” He tried ter borrer “round Hue rules” and buy a “square hole bit,” Until Mug tumbled, and, says he, “I’m sick of bein Tt.’ ” HX LKAPKD WITH FKAK FROM HIS SOFT. WARM Bib, Th» great man raved, and the great man swore. But bls feet were hot on the steaming floor, And the window glimmered so cool and wide That be ground his teeth and at last com plied. He gave his views on the U. S. A.; They were not kindly, 'tis sad to say. And when P. Inker next morning read The names be d called and the things he’d said. Hr fled, dlsuiayed. o'er the ocean's foam On the next Cunarder bound for home, And Augustus Crust, for his service true. Is editor now of Ths Bumbazoo. But dat redheaded substitute, he never roared a roar. But simply shucked his upper duds and piled ’em on de floor. “Say. gents,” he says, “I likes a Joko about as well as you. So let’s see If we can't have one dat I can laff at too.” And den his fist flew out and took da foreman in de face And sent him flyln endways plum right t'rough de eight point case. Mug Haley wan't no beauty, but hi« cousin, 'pon me soul, His fsce looked like a bull pup's, and his shape was like a pole. And when de gang all see him, why, dey hollered: "Di« is good! Mug. he was purty soft; but, ge«! his substitute's a *pud.’ ” He hit de head compositor right where be holds his pipe And piled him In de corner ’need a galley full er type; He give de fat hose pressman one er dem soft, lovln pats Dat knocked btm under need da preaa and caved in ha'f hla slat* Dey tried de “type lice” on him. and it went off like a peach, And when de water bit him, say, ye'd oughter beard 'em screech! And den dat giddy substitute be shook hlaself a bit And walked around dat printshop like 0 cyclone in a fit. And when de place was lookin like Twas rainin men and lead De door swung open gently, and in pop ped Mug Haley's head. THE CARRIER’S REFRAIN. Tbe editor sit» in his sanctum Aud ponders and scribbles away; The reporter goes down through the streets of the town And picks np the events of tbe day. Tbe typesetter fills up his galley. The pressman hia labor pursues. But I sing not their praise, for thia carol I raise To tbe fellow who brings us tbe news. Then here's to the carrier laddies And all of their Jovial Crewe— The sboutere and sellers, the merry street yeller* The fellows who bring us the newel The householder rises for breakfast Aud steps to his vestibule doer; The dew of the dawn Is still damp on the lawn. Yet the Carrier's been there before. Tbe merchant steps out on the aide- walk And longs for the editor*« views; He takes but one stride, and hie want is supplied By the fellow who brings ns the news. XXX THE FOREMAN'S TALE Y compositor old was Jehoshaphat Bing* Of tbe vintage of Greeley and Weed; He bad toyed with tbe type« sine« tbe day» of hi* youth. Ere hi» whiskers bad sprouted from sceii. He b id “set” oa the flquaetnekit Banner for years And had hoped to work on in tbe place TUI grim IYeath aboubl "pi" him and al! of hia bones Were distributed bask in tbe case But. alas, tbe brisk linotypes came there to rob I'uor mossy Jehoshaphat Bings of hia Job» X new foreman came to The Banner, and then The swift Mergenthalers were bought, And Jehoshaphat Bings received n ■ticv to quit. Foe the worth of his service was naught But b* »tend by the case where he’d stno-l for «o long. And tn tone* like the roll of a hsor*c. He named every stick, stone and type ia that ptec* tteck«. 04 -re DET SHOWED HIM WHERE DB “TYTB UCT* HID. Well, one day come a letter ter de fore man, and it read: “Deer Sur—Ime kinder off me feed and on me bak in bed. I cant set up. and so. er corse, I cant set tipe, yer see. Me cuzzin tinks hele do fer you«; hel« substytoot fer me.” The glib Reporter staid his speech. An<l silence »at a space oa each. Until tbe Foreman raised bis bead. Gray, grim and gloomy, and he said. Iu tones like tbo«e a tomb might lend, "Do yon believe in spirits, friend?" Tbe Carrier, whom this address Vpset a bit. replied. "1 guees I do—in moderation—ye*” Tbe F- reman answered, cold and glum: "I mean not spirits now that come tn jugs and bottles gay and brisbt; I mean tb« sort who walk at night; Tbe hind who creep, to give ua chill* From stilly shade* net shady «till* List while a tale I here unfold. Ap Hamlet senior did of old.” And then he span, in voice of gloom. This yarn of the composing room; See In th> with thou* is. for ulaa jresu*. with a curse. But 'twas on the foreman aud linotype« new That he prayed for a special “kibo«h” THE “DEVIL'S” TALE. Mug Haley was a good, soft t'lng, as green as green could be, When be come ter be “ ‘ devil” at De Daily Hummer, see? He was so fresh he’d hardly keep from sunrise until dark, dein composin blokea dey see dey bad an easy mark. ”*Tto th« piece where that Inker cad put» up. And I know a chap an the Fire Brigade Wh»nu I've lent money, which b«’a not P^- He'D not reftoe ma; k»'d be afraid. My eb «nee baa cornel I’m mal»! maAaf* And ent be sped through the night*« dim mark. Like a tramp who fl««« from a hard flay*« work. That night. In hi« rv«m oa Ch« oool third floor, la hla downy bed did tbe author «note TMl mMalgbt, whan, «a b* gaaplng, wok». He found hla chamber was filled with amoke And brard tb« «oaoron« •ngiae'« hum <Julv«riag up from below him com* Like a fevered and agued big baaa drum. And then loaded them each X R R Ob« night aa h« sat at bls d««k and thought. Pondering means fur the »nd be sought, H« beard the clang of th« Are bell beat Its dread alarm o’er the empty street. And. conatlng tbe stroke* could quickly tall • It spok« af a tre at the Grand bot»l. Then, quick aa the Jagged lightning'« chain. An Maa flaah«d to hl« teaming brain. "The Grand!“ h« yaipod. Uk« a frighten ed pup; This glad proclamation we bring to you here; It. jolcc »>• and Welcome them both with a cheer— Th», tiny new Cycle aud wee baby Year; To grivt them ye cannot refuse. Oh. wring not the bauds; nay, nor riuy the sail knell. But riug your b««t girl with a solitaire swell. A nd tell her you're ringing th« iwn-i New Year belle, Aud here's th»* latiwt newel Tht the | Oreg* Salen fifty» oppo* Th> th««« mint ing • yet o dema Cot, at length, the better of him, «nd he said, with miser's wblae: ”At tbe barroom, sir, they'll change it, if you'll step ont and arrange It. I should like to mske it fifty, but nine cents, you know, is nit»«.” Rad tbe tab! lie died that season, and be ne'< r regained bis r»*«son Till his last dread hour was passing, when these fateful words he spoke: 'Oh. my friend«. * ke warning speedy by my fate and .ic'er be greedy! If I'd taken the eight fifty, I'd have had it ere I woke!” • ••••• The Editor's grim task was done. And as he finished every one Shook from the lid the furtive tear. As one shakes surplus froth from beer. XI length the brisk Reporter said: "We'd fain speak kindly of the dead; But, still, this shows that 'tisn't right To reach for everything tn sight. Lend me your ears while I relate A tale of otie to whom stern Fate Was kinder far. I'm glad to state. Carrier’s Address J At t tion w city a take« mem I m gaged i be naw license him, walked out, tl e oh ted “l’at “Y* 1 bad > gow E a k sell ca or par at WI an ex) stone lar p Ixth? grudg. *<he fo dignlt wbetb takini worn* the w ^The Wdl. the editor was Jiggered for a «pace, but quickly figured— "That will be right fifty ume, air,' hr made answer like a flash. "With what vegetables may. «ir, I in quire. yog wish to pay, air?” Vegeta hiest" laughed ths straagsr; “I Intend to pay In cash.” "Cash.'" ths scigbs yelled, quite dum- founded. "Cash!" be bellowed, all astound«*. “Do you rneaa you'll pay la money?“ Then be sat a frosen man. While the etranger from hie Jacket took of bills a mighty packet Aad. with ease born of long practice, then to eount ths same began. “MB SUBSTm TB IS TBRRT MACK, DB UORT- wKiotrr chamf .” "Me substitute is Terry Mach, de light weight champ." Mug says. “I wrote be tougbt he'd do ter yous; I'm glad trr see he hea. TH stop and call de amberianc« wbea I'm a-goin by- You’ve bed a tot er fun wld me; I surra we're square. Goodby.” • •«••• The «aney stooped to duck Tbe blow which at his bead was strucc By tbe staid Foreman, horror »track. And then, to qoeli tbe rising gal* Tbe Carrier said. "1 have so tai« With which to charm you. but I’v« made A little ditty at tbe trade. Which I wi su>c. Then tmm a throat Deep, vast and boaree as fog bora's note He sang, with all his might and mala. Thia song: He travel» the lone country byway«; He »boots io tbe brisk city street. O'er his route be must go, be it rain. I sleet or snow Or tb» weltering ml lsnmmer beat He carries tbe world to our doorstep. Earth's Journal makes ours to peruse. And we'd stagnate and rot ia our shells were It Dot For the fellow who bring« us tbe newa So bere's to tbe Carrier laddies! Good luck to tbeir hustling crews! Tbe newsboy who capers, the ma« who •ells papers. The fellows who bring us tb« news! The Carrier ceased, for. there and then. Thanks to the sturdy railroad men, Tbe car got on tbe track again. And toward tbe «ea they sped along. And as they flew the happy throng Sang loud the Carrier'a merry eoag. And al! who beard Its beat and stir Remembered tong tbe Carrie*. And now, in closing, let me pray That YOCLL remember him today. JOE LINCOLN.