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Show HE IS STILLA TERROR. Armoy Knox and His Publishers A Truthful Story from the Pen of a Friend. "BUSST LIKE A TBOPIGAL ESEEZE." ' I . The Law Against Contract Labor Be-oomes Be-oomes More of a Paree Every Day , ' . Bews Note?. New York, Nov. 5. No more remarkable re-markable apparition ever startled a staid and respectable book publisher in the dignified city of Boston than that beheld by Mr. James A Osgood who has recently been made the head of an " American publishing houso in London . . when Col. J. Annoy Knox, then a tenderfoot ten-derfoot front Texas, burst into Mr. Os-. Os-. good's office some years ago like a trop- leal breeze. Even now, after the colonel " has been subjected to the restraining Influences of eastern, civilization for several years, he is what the boys call a . "holy terror." His hat is a yard and a half in circumference, and the back of his neck is wholly hidden by his long "dark hair, while the clothes that he wears, although conventional in cut, are ' preposterous in pattern. He came east in search of a publisher and brought the manuscript of his first ' . book with him. It was a little anecdote he had written about life in Texas, only a few thousand pages long, and the manuscript came on as extra baggage in a single freight car. , It was the manuscript manu-script that resulted in the celebrated book "On a Mexican Mustang," which was afterward published by S. S. Scran-ton Scran-ton & Co., of Hartford, and was still later republished in German, French and Spanish translations. . At that time, however, Col. Knox was little known, and he went first to Boston . . in search of a publisher. He took the precious sheets in a huge tin box, about a yard square arid eighteen inches thick, secured by a combination safe lock. Reaching Boston he hired a negro porter" to carry it around to Osgood's publish- . ing house. . The clerks were too much amazed at his appearance to stop him when he inquired where Mr. Osgood's private office was and calmly walked in, telling the darky to wait outside. ' He introduced himself, and bet ore Mr. , Osgood could catch his breath he began telling stories. That gentleman at once became interested and chatted for half an hour before he thought to inquire what his caller's errand was. "I want to see if you will publish my book for me," said the colonel. "Have you the manuscript here?" ' asked Mr. Osgood. "Oh, yes," replied the colonel, and he called the porter in with the tin box. Before Mr. Osgood could recover from this second shock the colonel said, in an ' offhand way, "I can leave it with you : till to-morrow if you want to read it before be-fore deciding." "Perhaps that will be just as well," gasped the publisher, and Col. Knox blew out of the door. The next day he returned, and was told that his book had been accepted, 1 but that on, account, jpf other contracts the firm would not undertake to publish pub-lish it within about six months. "Oh, I can't wait so long!" he ex-- ex-- claimed. 'Til tell you what I'll do. I'll get you to lend me a nigger, and I'll take it away and try another publisher." pub-lisher." They lent him two, and he took the book on to Philadelphia, where he found another publisher, who, after the colonel had kindly allowed him twenty-four hours to read the work, agreed to publish pub-lish it with copious illustrations. After his return to Texas the aspiring author soon began to receive proof sheets, and was greatly disgusted with the pictures pict-ures that were inserted. He remonstrated remon-strated with exceeding vigor, and the publisher wrote and asked him what he was going to do about it. Col. Knox did not answer this letter. let-ter. He went to Philadelphia on the next train and culled at the office at an hour when he knew the publisher was out. There he spent a jovial half hour with one of the employes, and suggested that he would take the manuscript, which was all in the tin box, over to his hotel, as he wished to revise it a little. The clerk made no objection, and the colonel departed with the box. He never returned. David A. Cdktis. |