The Asbestos Society of Sinners

Excerpt:'While waiting for an assignment, in the local room of the New York Universe, I began to while away the time by reading the fulsome effusions of the press agent of Greater Luna Park. They aroused in me the spirit of covetousness—I envied the press agent his vocabulary, which put the supply of superlatives into bankruptcy; and I was jealous of the success of Thompson & Dundy, whom I hoped some day to rival. Their first success had come with “A Trip to the Moon;” why might not I— “Go to Hell,” I read on the paper which the “copy” boy just then thrust into my hand. Before I could question him, the “devil” had gone. I glanced suspiciously at my fellow-scribes to see who had perpetrated the joke, if such it was, but no one seemed to be watching what effect the command had upon me. I again examined the odd message. It was in the handwriting of Mr. Burroughs, the city editor, so to him I went. Holding out the slip of paper, I said: “I have just received an assignment to ‘cover'a certain subterranean resort named after the box in which printers throw battered type, but as the route there is unfamiliar, I have come to you for instructions.” The “czar” of the city room frowned, but on reading the missive the frown was succeeded by an amused smile. “Who gave you this?” he asked. “The ‘devil'.”'