File:A history of Rome and Floyd County, State of Georgia, United States of America; including numerous incidents of more than local interest, 1540-1922 (1922) (14753557376).jpg

Identifier: historyofromeflo00batt (find matches)
Title: A history of Rome and Floyd County, State of Georgia, United States of America; including numerous incidents of more than local interest, 1540-1922
Year: 1922 (1920s)
Authors: Battey, George Magruder, 1887-1965
Subjects:
Publisher: Atlanta, Webb and Vary Co.
Contributing Library: The Library of Congress
Digitizing Sponsor: Sloan Foundation

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ed and undiscovered, forthe human stream that flows out ofthe elevator and the staiiway does notpass his door. In a sense, Stanton is comparableto Sir Walter Scott, who used tothrow his manuscript over his shoul-der, to be picked up later by some-body and put into print. He exudesso much poetry that it sometimes getsout of his reach in the junk that sur-rounds him, and does not appear fordays, weeks or months afterward. Ina sense, he is comparable to HoraceGreeley, who wrote such a miserablehand that but one compositor on theNew York Tribune could read it.Stanton can write plainly and pleas-ingly when he takes the time. How-ever, he usually leaves much to theimagination, and unless the printerreads it who is accustomed to his style,there is trouble in the plant. A story is told of Stanton whichwill illustrate his accustomed environ-ment : John Temple Graves, editor of theTribune of Rome, had hired a new of-fice boy, to whom these instructionswere given: Anecdotes and Reminiscences 273
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a ^ 2- •« • Si 274 A History of Rome and Floyd County One of your duties, son, will be tocarry the copy to the composing room.Whenever I write anything, you comein here and get it, and whenever Mr.Stanton writes anything, go in thereand take it back. I think Mr. Stan-ton has some now. The boy returned in a minute to Col.Graves desk and said: I couldnt make him answer. Whats that? He just kept on working when Iasked him if he had wrote anything. Oh! exclaimed Col. Graves with atwinkle in his eye. Lets see. They went to the doorway and peek-ed in. There sat Stanton with hiselbows aspread, his head low and hisright hand fighting furiously with apencil. He had dug so deeply into amountain of papers that no part ofhim was discernible below his should-ers. He would make a great effortand out would come a sheet of longhand, suggestive of a doodle-bug play-ing in a sand hill or a mole startinga direct route to China. I forgot to tell you the way youshould approach Mr. Stanton. The boytha

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