THE OFFICE BORE. 99 



up Straight. He stretches full length on the sofa awhile ; then draws up to half- 

 length ; then gets into a chair, hangs his head back and his arms abroad, and 

 stretches his legs till the rims of his boot-heels rest upon the floor ; by and by- 

 sits up and leans forward, with one leg or both over the arm of the chair. But 

 it is still observable that with all his changes of position, he never assumes the 

 upright or a fraudful aflFectation of dignity. From time to time he yawns, and 

 stretches, and scratches himself with a tranquil, mangy enjoyment, and now 

 and then he grunts a kind of stuffy, overfed grunt, which is full of animal con- 

 tentment. At rare and long intervals, however, he sighs a sigh that is the 

 eloquent expression of a secret confession, to wit : " I am useless and a nuisance, 

 a cumberer of the earth." The bore and his comrades — for there are usually 

 from two to four on hand, day and night — mix into the conversation when men 

 come in to see the editors for a moment on business ; they hold noisy talks 

 among themselves about politics in particular, and all other subjects in general 

 — even warming up, after a fashion, sometimes, and seeming to take almost a 

 real interest in what they are discussing. They ruthlessly call an editor 

 from his work with such a remark as: "Did you see this. Smith, in the 

 ' Gazette ?' " and proceed to read the paragraph while the sufferer reins in his 

 impatient pen and listens : they often loll and sprawl round the office hour after 

 hour, swapping anecdotes, and relating personal experiences to each other — 

 hairbreadth escapes, social encounters with distinguished men, election reminis- 

 cences, sketches of odd characters, etc. And through all those hours they never 

 seem to comprehend that they are robbing the editors of their time, and the 

 public of journalistic excellence in next day's paper. At other times they 

 drowse, or dreamily pore over exchanges, or droop limp and pensive over the 

 chair-arms for an hour. Even this solemn silence is small respite to the editor, 

 for the next uncomfortable thing to having people look over his shoulders, 

 perhaps, is to have them sit by in silence and listen to the scratching of his pen. 

 If a body desires to talk private business with one of the editors, he must call 

 him outside, for no hint milder than blasting powder or nitro-glycerine would 

 be likely to move the bores out of listening distance. To have to sit and endure 

 the presence of a bore day after day ; to feel your cheerful spirits begin to sink 

 as his footstep sounds on the stair, and utterly vanish away as his tiresome form 



