jinx; entire 1859 poem

[Gerald Cohen]

   Since there is some disagreement as to whether Jinks is the person
tormenting the journalist in the 1859 poem "More Copy," a
presentation of the entire poem to the ads-l members might be
helpful. It is reproduced below my signoff, and again, credit for
spotting it goes to Barry Popik.

Gerald Cohen


                              'MORE COPY'

'Once in August, wet and dreary,
Sat this writer weak and weary,
Pondering o'er a memorandum book of items used before--
(Book of scrawling headnotes, rather;
Items taking days to gather
Them in hot and sultry weather,
Using up much time and leather)
Pondered we those items o'er.
While we conn'd them, slowly rocking,
(Through our mind queer ideas flocking)
Came a quick and nervous knocking--
Knocking at the sanctum door.
"Sure, that must be Jinks," we muttered--
"Jinks that's knocking at our door;
Jinks, the everlasting bore."

Ah, well do we remind us,
In the walls which then confined us,
The "exchanges" lay behind us and before
Us, and around us, all scattered o'er the floor.
Thought we Jinks wants to borrow
Some newspaper till to-morrow,
And 'twill be relief from sorrow
To get rid of Jinks, the bore,
By opening wide the door."
Still the visitor kept knocking--knocking louder than before.

And the scattered piles of papers
Cut some rather curious capers,
Being lifted by the breezes coming through another door;
And we wished (the wish was evil,
for one deemed always civil)
That Jinks was at the d____l,
To stay there evermore;
There to find his level--
Jinks, the nerve-unstringing bore!

Bracing up our patience firmer,
Then, without another murmur,
"Mr. Jinks," said we, "your pardon, your forgiveness we implore.
But the fact is we were reading
Of some curious proceeding,
And thus it was, unheeding
Your loud knocking there before--"
we opened wide the door.
But phancey, now, our pheelinks
For it wasn't Jinks, the bore--
Jinks, nameless evermore.

But the form that stood before us,
Caused a trembling to come o'er us,
And mem'ry quickly bore us
Back again to days of yore,
Days when "items" were in plenty,
And where'er this writer went he
Picked up interesting items by the score.
'Twas the form of our "devil,"
In an attitude uncivil;
And he thrust his head within the open door,
With "The foreman's out o' copy! sir--and says he wants some more!"
Yes, like Alexander, wanted "more!"

Now, this "local" had already walked about till nearly dead--
He had sauntered through the city till his feet were very sore--
Walked through the street called Dauphin,
And the by-ways running off in-
to the portions of the city both public and obscure;
Had examined store and cellar
And had questioned every "feller"
Whom he met, from door to door,

If anything was stirring--
Any accident occurring--
Not published heretofore;
And had met with no success;
He would rather kinder guess
He felt a little wicked at that ugly little bore,
With his message from the foreman that he wanted "something more."

"Now, it's time you were departing,
You scamp!" cried we upstarting;
"Get you back into the office--
Office where you were before;
Or the words that you have spoken
Will get your bones all broken"
(And we seized a cudgel, oaken,
That was lying on the floor)
"Take your hands out of your pockets, and leave the sanctum door;
Tell the foreman there's no copy, you ugly little bore."
Quoth our devil, "send him more."

And our devil, never sitting,
Still is flitting, still is flitting
Back and forth upon the landing just outside the sanctum door.
Tears adown his cheeks are streaming--
Strange light from his eyes is beaming--
And his voice is heard, still screaming,
"Sir, the foreman wants some more!"
And our soul, pierced with the screaming,
Is awakened from its dreaming,
And has lost the peaceful feeling had before;
For the fancy will come o'er us
That each reader's face before us
Bears the horrid words-"we want a little more!"
Words, on their foreheads glaring,
"Your 'funny' column needs a little more!"

From: The Printer (New York City), September 1859, vol. 2, no. 5,
p. 106/2-3: