The Subdued Editor + 

Pope-eater Pixley set in his den + 

A-chewin’ upon his quid. + 

He thought it was Leo Thirteen, and then + 

He bit it intenser, he did. + 

The amber which overflew from the cud + 

Like rivers which burst out of bounds⁠— + 

’Twas peculiar pleasant to think it blood + 

A-gushin’ from Papal wounds. + 

A knockin’ was heard uponto the door + 

Where someone a-waitin’ was. + 

“Come in,” said the shedder of priestly gore, + 

Arrestin’ to once his jaws. + 

The person which entered was curly of hair + 

And smilin’ as ever you see; + 

His eyes was blue, and uncommon fair + 

Was his physiognomee. + 

And yet there was some’at remarkable grand⁠— + 

And the editor says as he looks: + 

“Your Height” (it was Highness, you understand, + 

That he meant, but he spoke like books)⁠— + 

“Your Height, I am in. I’m the editor man + 

Of this paper⁠—which is to say, + 

I’m the owner, too, and it’s always ran + 

In the independentest way! + 

“Not a dam galoot can interfere, + 

A-shapin’ my course for me: + 

This paper’s (and nothing can make it veer) + 

Pixleian in policee!” + 

“It’s little to me,” said the sunny youth, + 

“If journals is better or worse: + 

Where I am to home they won’t keep, in truth, + 

The climate is that perverse. + 

“I’ve come, howsomever, your mind to light + 

With a more superior fire: + 

You’ll have naught hencefor’ard to do but write, + 

While I sets by to inspire. + 

“We’ll make it hot all round, bedad!” + 

And his laughture was loud and free. + 

“The devil!” cried Pixley, surpassin’ mad. + 

“Exactly, my friend⁠—that’s me.” + 

So he took a chair and a feather fan, + 

And he sets and sets and sets, + 

Inspirin’ that humbled editor man, + 

Which sweats and sweats and sweats! + 

All unavailin’ his struggles be, + 

And it’s, O, a weepin’ sight + 

To see a great editor, bold and free, + 

Reducted to sech a plight! + 