CHAPTER 8. BEING EDITORS
It was Albert's uncle who thought of our trying a newspaper. He said hethought we should not find the bandit business a paying industry, as apermanency, and that journalism might be.
We had sold Noel's poetry and that piece of information about LordTottenham to the good editor, so we thought it would not be a bad ideato have a newspaper of our own. We saw plainly that editors must be veryrich and powerful, because of the grand office and the man in the glasscase, like a museum, and the soft carpets and big writing-table. Besidesour having seen a whole handful of money that the editor pulled outquite carelessly from his trousers pocket when he gave me my five bob.
Dora wanted to be editor and so did Oswald, but he gave way to herbecause she is a girl, and afterwards he knew that it is true what itsays in the copy-books about Virtue being its own Reward. Because you'veno idea what a bother it is. Everybody wanted to put in everything justas they liked, no matter how much room there was on the page. It wassimply awful! Dora put up with it as long as she could and then she saidif she wasn't let alone she wouldn't go on being editor; they could bethe paper's editors themselves, so there.
Then Oswald said, like a good brother: 'I will help you if you like,Dora,' and she said, 'You're more trouble than all the rest of them!Come and be editor and see how you like it. I give it up to you.'But she didn't, and we did it together. We let Albert-next-door besub-editor, because he had hurt his foot with a nail in his boot thatgathered.
When it was done Albert-next-door's uncle had it copied for us intypewriting, and we sent copies to all our friends, and then of coursethere was no one left that we could ask to buy it. We did not think ofthat until too late. We called the paper the Lewisham Recorder; Lewishambecause we live there, and Recorder in memory of the good editor. Icould write a better paper on my head, but an editor is not allowed towrite all the paper. It is very hard, but he is not. You just have tofill up with what you can get from other writers. If I ever have time Iwill write a paper all by myself. It won't be patchy. We had no time tomake it an illustrated paper, but I drew the ship going down with allhands for the first copy. But the typewriter can't draw ships, so it wasleft out in the other copies. The time the first paper took to write outno one would believe! This was the Newspaper:
THE LEWISHAM RECORDER
EDITORS: DORA AND OSWALD BASTABLE
------------ EDITORIAL NOTE
Every paper is written for some reason. Ours is because we want to sellit and get money. If what we have written brings happiness to any sadheart we shall not have laboured in vain. But we want the money too.Many papers are content with the sad heart and the happiness, but we arenot like that, and it is best not to be deceitful. EDITORS.
There will be two serial stories; One by Dicky and one by all of us. Ina serial story you only put in one chapter at a time. But we shall putall our serial story at once, if Dora has time to copy it. Dicky's willcome later on.
SERIAL STORY BY US ALL
CHAPTER I--by Dora
The sun was setting behind a romantic-looking tower when two strangersmight have been observed descending the crest of the hill. The eldest,a man in the prime of life; the other a handsome youth who remindedeverybody of Quentin Durward. They approached the Castle, in which thefair Lady Alicia awaited her deliverers. She leaned from the castellatedwindow and waved her lily hand as they approached. They returned hersignal, and retired to seek rest and refreshment at a neighbouringhostelry.
------------ CHAPTER II--by Alice
The Princess was very uncomfortable in the tower, because her fairygodmother had told her all sorts of horrid things would happen if shedidn't catch a mouse every day, and she had caught so many mice that nowthere were hardly any left to catch. So she sent her carrier pigeon toask the noble Strangers if they could send her a few mice--because shewould be of age in a few days and then it wouldn't matter. So the fairygodmother--- (I'm very sorry, but there's no room to make the chaptersany longer.-ED.)
------------ CHAPTER III--by the Sub-Editor
(I can't--I'd much rather not--I don't know how.)
------------ CHAPTER IV--by Dicky
I must now retrace my steps and tell you something about our hero. Youmust know he had been to an awfully jolly school, where they had turkeyand goose every day for dinner, and never any mutton, and as many helpsof pudding as a fellow cared to send up his plate for--so of course theyhad all grown up very strong, and before he left school he challengedthe Head to have it out man to man, and he gave it him, I tell you. Thatwas the education that made him able to fight Red Indians, and to be thestranger who might have been observed in the first chapter.
------------ CHAPTER V--by Noel
I think it's time something happened in this story. So then the dragonhe came out, blowing fire out of his nose, and he said--
'Come on, you valiant man and true, I'd like to have a set-to along ofyou!'
(That's bad English.--ED. I don't care; it's what the dragon said. Whotold you dragons didn't talk bad English?--Noel.)
So the hero, whose name was Noeloninuris, replied--
'My blade is sharp, my axe is keen, You're not nearly as big As a good many dragons I've seen.'
(Don't put in so much poetry, Noel. It's not fair, because none of theothers can do it.--ED.)
And then they went at it, and he beat the dragon, just as he did theHead in Dicky's part of the Story, and so he married the Princess, andthey lived--- (No they didn't--not till the last chapter.--ED.)
------------ CHAPTER VI--by H. O.
I think it's a very nice Story--but what about the mice? I don't want tosay any more. Dora can have what's left of my chapter.
------------ CHAPTER VII--by the Editors
And so when the dragon was dead there were lots of mice, because he usedto kill them for his tea but now they rapidly multiplied and ravaged thecountry, so the fair lady Alicia, sometimes called the Princess, hadto say she would not marry any one unless they could rid the country ofthis plague of mice. Then the Prince, whose real name didn't beginwith N, but was Osrawalddo, waved his magic sword, and the dragon stoodbefore them, bowing gracefully. They made him promise to be good, andthen they forgave him; and when the wedding breakfast came, all thebones were saved for him. And so they were married and lived happy everafter.
(What became of the other stranger?--NOEL. The dragon ate him because heasked too many questions.--EDITORS.)
This is the end of the story.
INSTRUCTIVE
It only takes four hours and a quarter now to get from London toManchester; but I should not think any one would if they could help it.
A DREADFUL WARNING. A wicked boy told me a very instructive thing aboutginger. They had opened one of the large jars, and he happened to takeout quite a lot, and he made it all right by dropping marbles in, tillthere was as much ginger as before. But he told me that on the Sunday,when it was coming near the part where there is only juice generally, Ihad no idea what his feelings were. I don't see what he could have saidwhen they asked him. I should be sorry to act like it.
------------ SCIENTIFIC
Experiments should always be made out of doors. And don't usebenzoline.--DICKY. (That was when he burnt his eyebrows off.--ED.)
The earth is 2,400 miles round, and 800 through--at least I think so,but perhaps it's the other way.--DICKY. (You ought to have been surebefore you began.--ED.)
------------ SCIENTIFIC COLUMN
In this so-called Nineteenth Century Science is but too littleconsidered in the nurseries of the rich and proud. But we are not likethat.
It is not generally known that if you put bits of camphor in luke-warmwater it will move about. If you drop sweet oil in, the camphor willdart away and then sto
p moving. But don't drop any till you are tiredof it, because the camphor won't any more afterwards. Much amusement andinstruction is lost by not knowing things like this.
If you put a sixpence under a shilling in a wine-glass, and blow harddown the side of the glass, the sixpence will jump up and sit on the topof the shilling. At least I can't do it myself, but my cousin can. He isin the Navy.
------------ ANSWERS TO CORRESPONDENTS
Noel. You are very poetical, but I am sorry to say it will not do.
Alice. Nothing will ever make your hair curl, so it's no use. Somepeople say it's more important to tidy up as you go along. I don't meanyou in particular, but every one.
H. O. We never said you were tubby, but the Editor does not know anycure.
Noel. If there is any of the paper over when this newspaper is finished,I will exchange it for your shut-up inkstand, or the knife that has theuseful thing in it for taking stones out of horses' feet, but you can'thave it without.
H. O. There are many ways how your steam engine might stop working.You might ask Dicky. He knows one of them. I think it is the way yoursstopped.
Noel. If you think that by filling the garden with sand you can makecrabs build their nests there you are not at all sensible.
You have altered your poem about the battle of Waterloo so often, thatwe cannot read it except where the Duke waves his sword and says something we can't read either. Why did you write it on blotting-paper withpurple chalk?--ED. (Because YOU KNOW WHO sneaked my pencil.--NOEL.)
------------ POETRY
The Assyrian came down like a wolf on the fold, And the way he came down was awful, I'm told; But it's nothing to the way one of the Editors comes down on me, If I crumble my bread-and-butter or spill my tea. NOEL. ------------ CURIOUS FACTS
If you hold a guinea-pig up by his tail his eyes drop out.
You can't do half the things yourself that children in books do, makingmodels or soon. I wonder why?--ALICE.
If you take a date's stone out and put in an almond and eat themtogether, it is prime. I found this out.--SUB-EDITOR.
If you put your wet hand into boiling lead it will not hurt you if youdraw it out quickly enough. I have never tried this.--DORA.
------------ THE PURRING CLASS
(Instructive Article)
If I ever keep a school everything shall be quite different. Nobodyshall learn anything they don't want to. And sometimes instead of havingmasters and mistresses we will have cats, and we will dress up in catskins and learn purring. 'Now, my dears,' the old cat will say, 'one,two, three all purr together,' and we shall purr like anything.
She won't teach us to mew, but we shall know how without teaching.Children do know some things without being taught.--ALICE.
------------ POETRY (Translated into French by Dora)
Quand j'etais jeune et j'etais fou J'achetai un violon pour dix-huit sous Et tous les airs que je jouai Etait over the hills and far away.
Another piece of it
Mercie jolie vache qui fait Bon lait pour mon dejeuner Tous les matins tous les soirs Mon pain je mange, ton lait je boire.
------------ RECREATIONS
It is a mistake to think that cats are playful. I often try to get a catto play with me, and she never seems to care about the game, no matterhow little it hurts.--H. O.
Making pots and pans with clay is fun, but do not tell the grown-ups. Itis better to surprise them; and then you must say at once how easily itwashes off--much easier than ink.--DICKY.
------------ SAM REDFERN, OR THE BUSH RANGER'S BURIAL
By Dicky
'Well, Annie, I have bad news for you,' said Mr Ridgway, as he enteredthe comfortable dining-room of his cabin in the Bush. 'Sam Redfern theBushranger is about this part of the Bush just now. I hope he will notattack us with his gang.'
'I hope not,' responded Annie, a gentle maiden of some sixteen summers.
Just then came a knock at the door of the hut, and a gruff voice askedthem to open the door.
'It is Sam Redfern the Bushranger, father,' said the girl.
'The same,' responded the voice, and the next moment the hall door wassmashed in, and Sam Redfern sprang in, followed by his gang.
------------ CHAPTER II
Annie's Father was at once overpowered, and Annie herself lay bound withcords on the drawing-room sofa. Sam Redfern set a guard round the lonelyhut, and all human aid was despaired of. But you never know. Far away inthe Bush a different scene was being enacted.
'Must be Injuns,' said a tall man to himself as he pushed his waythrough the brushwood. It was Jim Carlton, the celebrated detective. 'Iknow them,' he added; 'they are Apaches.' just then ten Indians in fullwar-paint appeared. Carlton raised his rifle and fired, and slingingtheir scalps on his arm he hastened towards the humble log hut whereresided his affianced bride, Annie Ridgway, sometimes known as theFlower of the Bush.
------------ CHAPTER III
The moon was low on the horizon, and Sam Redfern was seated at adrinking bout with some of his boon companions.
They had rifled the cellars of the hut, and the rich wines flowed likewater in the golden goblets of Mr Ridgway.
But Annie had made friends with one of the gang, a noble, good-heartedman who had joined Sam Redfern by mistake, and she had told him to goand get the police as quickly as possible.
'Ha! ha!' cried Redfern, 'now I am enjoying myself!' He little knew thathis doom was near upon him.
Just then Annie gave a piercing scream, and Sam Redfern got up, seizinghis revolver. 'Who are you?' he cried, as a man entered.
'I am Jim Carlton, the celebrated detective,' said the new arrival.
Sam Redfern's revolver dropped from his nerveless fingers, but the nextmoment he had sprung upon the detective with the well-known activity ofthe mountain sheep, and Annie shrieked, for she had grown to love therough Bushranger.
(To be continued at the end of the paper if there is room.)
------------ SCHOLASTIC
A new slate is horrid till it is washed in milk. I like the green spotson them to draw patterns round. I know a good way to make a slate-pencilsqueak, but I won't put it in because I don't want to make itcommon.--SUB-EDITOR.
Peppermint is a great help with arithmetic. The boy who was second inthe Oxford Local always did it. He gave me two. The examiner said tohim, 'Are you eating peppermints?' And he said, 'No, Sir.'
He told me afterwards it was quite true, because he was only suckingone. I'm glad I wasn't asked. I should never have thought of that, and Icould have had to say 'Yes.'--OSWALD.
------------ THE WRECK OF THE 'MALABAR'
By Noel
(Author of 'A Dream of Ancient Ancestors.') He isn't really--but he putit in to make it seem more real.
Hark! what is that noise of rolling Waves and thunder in the air? 'Tis the death-knell of the sailors And officers and passengers of the good ship Malabar.
It was a fair and lovely noon When the good ship put out of port And people said 'ah little we think How soon she will be the elements' sport.'
She was indeed a lovely sight Upon the billows with sails spread. But the captain folded his gloomy arms, Ah--if she had been a life-boat instead!
See the captain stern yet gloomy Flings his son upon a rock, Hoping that there his darling boy May escape the wreck.
Alas in vain the loud winds roared And nobody was saved. That was the wreck of the Malabar, Then let us toll for the brave. NOEL.
------------ GARDENING NOTES
&nb
sp; It is useless to plant cherry-stones in the hope of eating the fruit,because they don't!
Alice won't lend her gardening tools again, because the last time Noelleft them out in the rain, and I don't like it. He said he didn't.
------------ SEEDS AND BULBS
These are useful to play at shop with, until you are ready. Not atdinner-parties, for they will not grow unless uncooked. Potatoes arenot grown with seed, but with chopped-up potatoes. Apple trees are grownfrom twigs, which is less wasteful.
Oak trees come from acorns. Every one knows this. When Noel says hecould grow one from a peach stone wrapped up in oak leaves, he showsthat he knows nothing about gardening but marigolds, and when I passedby his garden I thought they seemed just like weeds now the flowers havebeen picked.
A boy once dared me to eat a bulb.
Dogs are very industrious and fond of gardening. Pincher is alwaysplanting bones, but they never grow up. There couldn't be a bone tree.I think this is what makes him bark so unhappily at night. He has nevertried planting dog-biscuit, but he is fonder of bones, and perhaps hewants to be quite sure about them first.
------------ SAM REDFERN, OR THE BUSHRANGER'S BURIAL
By Dicky
------------ CHAPTER IV AND LAST
This would have been a jolly good story if they had let me finish it atthe beginning of the paper as I wanted to. But now I have forgotten howI meant it to end, and I have lost my book about Red Indians, and all myBoys of England have been sneaked. The girls say 'Good riddance!' so Iexpect they did it. They want me just to put in which Annie married, butI shan't, so they will never know.
We have now put everything we can think of into the paper. It takes alot of thinking about. I don't know how grown-ups manage to write allthey do. It must make their heads ache, especially lesson books.
Albert-next-door only wrote one chapter of the serial story, but hecould have done some more if he had wanted to. He could not write outany of the things because he cannot spell. He says he can, but it takeshim such a long time he might just as well not be able. There are one ortwo things more. I am sick of it, but Dora says she will write them in.
LEGAL ANSWER WANTED. A quantity of excellent string is offered if youknow whether there really is a law passed about not buying gunpowderunder thirteen.--DICKY.
The price of this paper is one shilling each, and sixpence extra for thepicture of the Malabar going down with all hands. If we sell one hundredcopies we will write another paper.
* * *
And so we would have done, but we never did. Albert-next-door's unclegave us two shillings, that was all. You can't restore fallen fortuneswith two shillings!