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Updated: May 16, 2025
In June he was made sub-editor of Sport, and thus acquired a settled income. And one morning in July I got a letter from Viola written at Quimpol in Brittany: "MY DEAR WALTER: "I married Jimmy five days ago. Nobody but Norah knew anything about it till it was all over. But I wrote and told Daddy before we left England. I'm afraid he's had a sore throat ever since.
The chief sub-editor was a young, bald-headed, spectacled man of meek appearance, who received Horace in a resigned way, and referred him to the clerks in the outer room, who would show him how he could make himself useful. Feeling that, so far as he was concerned, he had fallen on his feet, and secretly wishing poor Reginald was in his shoes, Horace obeyed and retired to the outer room.
He always called her Jane in company, unless he was excited. "I know what you are going to say. I won't have it." "I was only going to say " urged the sub-editor in tone of one suffering injustice. "I quite know what you were going to say," retorted Peter hotly. "I can see it by your chin. You are going to take their part and suggest their acting undutifully towards their parents."
I wonder he doesn't find fault with the Morning Service for containing the Lord's Prayer, or with Moses for saying 'Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself." "Still, that's the sort of man newspapers have to cater for," said the sub-editor. "And we don't. My idea would be to make two pages of them, not cutting out any of the people's names and leaving in more of the adjectives.
"Going down to see these people?" he asked, with a jerk of his head towards the West. "Yes, I am going by the eleven-fifteen." "I have been thinking," continued the sub-editor, "we may as well keep the printing-office door locked to-day. That slippery gentleman with the watery eyes meant business, or I am very much mistaken.
The five words of the sub-editor present him to me more vividly. I see him positively glistening from the effects of soap and water. I see his clear blue eye; his fair crisp locks, the natural curliness of which annoys him personally, though alluring to everybody else; his frank winning smile. He is "lately home from college."
"And how would that help us?" demanded Peter. "Even if the boy were so so headstrong, so unfilial as to defy his father, who has worked for him all these years, how would that remove the obstacle of Mr. Appleyard's refusal?" "Why, don't you see " explained the sub-editor. "No, I don't," snapped Peter.
"Remember my conceptions of orthodoxy are drawn mainly from the Ghetto, where cleanliness, so far from being next to godliness, is nowhere in the vicinity. But what can I do for you?" "I don't know. At present the staff, the Flag-staff as Sidney calls it, consists of myself and a sub-editor, who take it in turn to translate the only regular outside contributor's articles into English."
It is so easy to write just what you see," he concluded, apologetically. The sub-editor handed him his ten guineas. "When will you bring me some more work?" "Whenever you like," Burton replied promptly. "What about?" The sub-editor shook his head. "You had better choose your own subjects." "Covent Garden at half-past three?" Burton suggested, a little diffidently. "I can't describe it properly.
"Who was she, you mean, my Lady Frances?" said the Advocate blandly, helping himself to a pinch of snuff. "I can tell you who she is Mrs. Duncan MacAlpine, wife of my private assistant and the sub-editor of the Universal Review." It was the first time he had given me that title, which pleased me, and led me to hope that he meant to accompany the honour by a rise in salary.
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