It was delicious to see a newspaper again, yet I was conscious of a secret shock when my eye fell upon the first batch of display head-lines.

I had lived in a clammy atmosphere of reverence, respect, deference, so long that they sent a quivery little cold wave through me: HIGH TIMES IN THE VALLEY OF HOLINESS! ---- THE WATER-WORKS CORKED! ---- BRER MERLIN WORKS HIS ARTS, BUT GETS LEFT?
---- But the Boss scores on his first Innings! ---- The Miraculous Well Uncorked amid awful outbursts of INFERNAL FIRE AND SMOKE ATHUNDER! ---- THE BUZZARD-ROOST ASTONISHED! ---- UNPARALLELED REJOIBINGS! -- and so on, and so on.

Yes, it was too loud.

Once I could have enjoyed it and seen nothing out of the way about it, but now its note was discordant.

It was good Arkansas journalism, but this was not Arkansas.