1.9. EXPERIENCE AS AN EDITOR.
In the Ortum of 18— my frend, the editor of the Baldinsville Bugle, was obleged to leave perfeshernal dooties & go & dig his taters, & he axed me to edit for him dooring his absence. Accordingly I ground up his Shears and commenced. It didn't take me a grate while to slash out copy enuff from the xchanges (Perhaps five per cent. of the Western newspapers is original matter relating to the immediate neighborhood, the rest is composed of "telegraphs" and clippings from the "exchanges"—a general term applied to those papers posted in exchange for others, the accommodation being a mutual benefit.) for one issoo, and I thawt I'd ride up to the next town on a little Jaunt, to rest my Branes, which had bin severely rackt by my mental efforts. (This is sorter Ironical.) So I went over to the Rale Road offiss and axed the Sooprintendent for a pars.
"YOU a editer?" he axed, evijently on the pint of snickerin.
"Yes Sir," sez I; "don't I look poor enuff?"
"Just about," sed he, "but our Road can't pars you."
"Can't, hay?"
"No Sir—it can't."
"Becauz," sez I, lookin him full in the face with a Eagle eye, "IT GOES SO DARNED SLOW IT CAN'T PARS ANYBODY!" Methinks I had him thar. It's the slowest Rale Road in the West. With a mortified air, he told me to git out of his offiss. I pittid him and went.