bruskly and asked if there was any one he would like to see. It is
reported that he replied, with gentle deliberation:

"Well, yes, I should like to see some young man offer the new editor a
chair."

It is so like Mark Twain that we are inclined to accept it, though it
seems of doubtful circumstance. In any case it deserves to be true. His
"Salutatory" (August 18th) is sufficiently genuine:

Being a stranger, it would be immodest for me to suddenly and
violently assume the associate editorship of the Buffalo Express
without a single word of comfort or encouragement to the unoffending
patrons of the paper, who are about to be exposed to constant
attacks of my wisdom and learning. But the word shall be as brief
as possible. I only want to assure parties having a friendly
interest in the prosperity of the journal that I am not going to
hurt the paper deliberately and intentionally at any time. I am not
going to introduce any startling reforms, nor in any way attempt to
make trouble.... I shall not make use of slang and vulgarity upon
any occasion or under any circumstances, and shall never use
profanity except when discussing house rent and taxes. Indeed, upon
a second thought, I shall not use it even then, for it is
unchristian, inelegant, and degrading; though, to speak truly, I do
not see how house rent and taxes are going to be discussed worth a
cent without it. I shall not often meddle with politics, because we
have a political Editor who is already excellent and only needs to
serve a term or two in the penitentiary to be perfect. I shall not
write any poetry unless I conceive a spite against the subscribers.

Such is my platform. I do not see any use in it, but custom is law
and must be obeyed.

John Harrison Mills, who was connected with the Express in those days,
has written:

I cannot remember that there was any delay in getting down to his
work. I think within five minutes the new editor had assumed the
easy look of one entirely at home, pencil in hand and a clutch of
paper before him, with an air of preoccupation, as of one intent on
a task delayed. It was impossible to be conscious of the man
sitting there, and not feel his identity with all that he had
enjoyed, and the reminiscence of it he that seemed to radiate; for
the personality was so absolutely in accord with all the record of