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Show An Editor. For thirty years ho had lnbored hard To make a llttlo pile And never woro a decent suit Or lived In nny style. A scora of papers floundered while Ho battled nt tho helm And all his journalistic barks Tho waves would ovorwholm. It's truo ho mado a living but It was nn nwful grind Tho patches on his trousers npoko Tho troubles on his mind. Subscribers wouldn't settle up, Ills rivals heaped abuse, And politicians stolo his space By any sort of ruse. At sticking typo or writings loads Or patching up tho press, Or clipping wisely with the shears Ho was Al. Iucss. Likewise ho was tho kindest man A fellow evor snw, Who wrestled conscientiously For justice nnd tho Inw. He never hnd n holiday Uut when his llfo was spent They lnld him where he nevor would He troubled by tho rent. And whllo ho seldom went to church No praying man was he, Tho chances nro he'll piny a hnrp Through nil otornlty. Pnul Cook. Western Publisher. |