"Then you can be sporting editor."

"Goodness, Patsy! There will be no sporting news in Millville."

"There will be a ball game occasionally, and I saw some of the men
pitching quoits yesterday. But this is to be a newspaper reflecting the
excitement of the entire world, Beth, and all the telegraphic news of a
sporting character you must edit and arrange for our reading columns.
Oh, yes; and you'll take care of the religious items too. We must have a
Sunday Sermon, by some famous preacher, Uncle. We'll print that every
Saturday, so those who can't go to church may get as good a talk as if
they did--and perhaps a better one."

"That will be fine," he agreed. "How about murders, crimes and
divorces?"

"All barred. Nothing that sends a cold chill down your back will be
allowed in our paper. These people are delightfully simple; we don't
want to spoil them."

"Cut out the cold chills and you'll spoil your newspaper," suggested
Arthur. "People like to read of other folks' horrors, for it makes them
more contented with their own lot in life."

"False philosophy, sir!" cried Fatsy firmly. "You can't educate people
by retailing crimes and scandals, and the _Millville Tribune_ is going
to be as clean as a prayer book, if I'm to be managing editor."

"Is that to be your office, dear?" asked Louise.