nd dejected.

He surveyed the wreck which that old rioter and these two young
farmers had made, and then said: "This is a sad business--a very
sad business. There is the mucilage-bottle broken, and six panes of
glass, and a spittoon, and two candlesticks. But that is not the
worst. The reputation of the paper is injured--and permanently, I
fear. True, there never was such a call for the paper before, and
it never sold such a large edition or soared to such celebrity; but
does one want to be famous for lunacy, and prosper upon the
infirmities of his mind? My friend, as I am an honest man, the
street out here is full of people, and others are roosting on the
fences, waiting to get a glimpse of you, because they think you are
crazy. And well they might after reading your editorials. They are
a disgrace to journalism. Why, what put it into your head that you
could edit a paper of this nature? You do not seem to know the first
rudiments of agriculture. You speak of a furrow and a harrow as being
the same thing; you talk of the moulting season for cows; and you
recommend the domestication of the polecat on account of its
playfulness and its excellence as a ratter! Your remark that clams
will lie quiet if music be played to them was superfluous--entirely
superfluous. Nothing disturbs clams. Clams _always_ lie quiet. Clams
care nothing whatever about music. Ah, heavens and earth, friend! if
you had made the acquiring of ignorance the study of your life, you
could not have graduated with higher honor than you could to-day. I
never saw anything like it. Your observation that the horse-chestnut
as an article of commerce is steadily gaining in favor, is simply
calculated to destroy this journal. I want you to throw up your
situation and go. I want no more holiday--I could not enjoy it if I
had it. Certainly not with you in my chair. I would always stand in
dread of what you might be going to recommend next. It makes me lose
all patience every time I think of your discussing oyster-beds under
the head of 'Landscape Gardening.' I want you to go. Nothing on earth
could persuade me to take another holiday. Oh! why didn't you _tell_
me you didn't know anything about agriculture?"

"_Tell_ you, you cornstalk, you cabbage, you son of a
cauliflower? It's the first time I ever heard such an unfeeling
remark. I tell you I have been in the editorial business going on
fourteen years, and it is the first time I ever heard of a man's
having t