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"True," said the editor, meditatively. "Harry, do you think you could edit the paper for two or three months?"
"I think I could," said Harry, with modest confidence. His heart beat high at the thought of the important position which was likely to be opened to him; and plans of what he would do to make the paper interesting already began to be formed in his mind.
"It never occurred to me before, but I really think you could," said the editor, "and that would remove every obstacle to my going. By the way, Harry, you would have to find a new boarding-place, for Mrs.
Anderson would accompany me, and we should shut up the house."
"Perhaps Ferguson would take me in?" said Harry.
"I should be glad to do so; but I don't know that my humble fare would be good enough for an editor."
Harry smiled. "I won't put on airs," he said, "till my commission is made out."
"I am afraid that I can't offer high pay for your services in that capacity," said Mr. Anderson.
"I shall charge nothing, sir," said Harry, "but thank you for the opportunity of entering, if only for a short time, a profession to which it is my ambition to belong."
After a brief consultation with his wife, Mr. Anderson appointed Harry editor pro tem., and began to make arrangements for his journey. Harry's weekly wages were raised to fifteen dollars, out of which he waa to pay Ferguson four dollars a week for board.
So our hero found himself, at nineteen, the editor of an old established paper, which, though published in a country village, was not without its share of influence in the county and State.
CHAPTER x.x.xII.
THE YOUNG EDITOR.
The next number of the Centreville "Gazette" contained the following notice from the pen of Mr. Anderson:--
"For the first time since our connection with the 'Gazette,' we purpose taking a brief respite from our duties. The state of our health renders a vacation desirable, and an opportune invitation from a brother at the West has been accepted. Our absence may extend to two or three months. In the interim we have committed the editorial management to Mr. Harry Walton, who has been connected with the paper, in a different capacity, for nearly three years. Though Mr.
Walton is a very young man, he has already acquired a reputation, as contributor to papers of high standing in Boston, and we feel a.s.sured that our subscribers will have no reason to complain of the temporary change in the editorship."
"The old man has given you quite a handsome notice, Harry," said Ferguson.
"I hope I shall deserve it," said Harry; "but I begin now to realize that I am young to a.s.sume such responsible duties. It would have seemed more appropriate for you to undertake them."
"I can't write well enough, Harry. I like to read, but I can't produce. In regard to the business management I feel competent to advise."
"I shall certainly be guided by your advice, Ferguson."
As it may interest the reader, we will raise the curtain and show our young hero in the capacity of editor. The time is ten days after Mr.
Anderson's absence. Harry was accustomed to do his work as compositor in the forenoon and the early part of the afternoon. From three to five he occupied the editorial chair, read letters, wrote paragraphs, and saw visitors. He had just seated himself, when a man entered the office and looked about him inquisitively.
"I would like to see the editor," he said.
"I am the editor," said Harry, with dignity.
The visitor looked surprised.
"You are the youngest-looking editor I have met," he said. "Have you filled the office long?"
"Not long," said Harry. "Can I do anything for you?"
"Yes, sir, you can. First let me introduce myself. I am Dr.
Theophilus Peabody."
"Will you be seated, Dr. Peabody?"
"You have probably heard of me before," said the visitor.
"I can't say that I have."
"I am surprised at that," said the doctor, rather disgusted to find himself unknown. "You must have heard of Peabody's Unfailing Panacea."
"I am afraid I have not."
"You are young," said Dr. Peabody, compa.s.sionately; "that accounts for it. Peabody's Panacea, let me tell you, sir, is the great remedy of the age. It has effected more cures, relieved more pain, soothed more aching bosoms, and done more good, than any other medicine in existence."
"It must be a satisfaction to you to have conferred such a blessing on mankind," said Harry, inclined to laugh at the doctor's magniloquent style.
"It is. I consider myself one of the benefactors of mankind; but, sir, the medicine has not yet been fully introduced. There are thousands, who groan on beds of pain, who are ignorant that for the small sum of fifty cents they could be restored to health and activity."
"That's a pity."
"It is a pity, Mr. ----"
"Walton."
"Mr. Walton,--I have called, sir, to ask you to co-operate with me in making it known to the world, so far as your influence extends."
"Is your medicine a liquid?"
"No, sir; it is in the form of pills, twenty-four in a box. Let me show you."
The doctor opened a wooden box, and displayed a collection of very unwholesome-looking brown pills.
"Try one, sir; it won't do you any harm."
"Thank you; I would rather not. I don't like pills. What will they cure?"
"What won't they cure? I've got a list of fifty-nine diseases in my circular, all of which are relieved by Peabody's Panacea. They may cure more; in fact, I've been told of a consumptive patient who was considerably relieved by a single box. You won't try one?"
"I would rather not."
"Well, here is my circular, containing accounts of remarkable cures performed. Permit me to present you a box."
"Thank you," said Harry, dubiously.