But a cog slips and the dadgummed thing slides merrily down the broad road to destruction.
The editor tears his hair and says some cuss words.
The devil grins and throws the shooting-stick at the office cat.
Every opposition paper trots out its rooster, and the editor waits for the world to come to an end or the moon to turn to blood.
At this point in the proceedings it is time to borrow some more money.
He would quit business, but he can’t.
When a man undertakes to reform the world he is never out of a job.
He always sees something that needs his attention.
But the Reform editor is made of the right kind of metal.
He is always out of money, but seldom out of heart.