His agitation was so evident and so unusual that I ventured to inquire
as to the trouble which so vexed his serene temper. In reply he took up
a copy of a prominent New York morning paper and pointed to a
sub-editorial in which he was referred to by name as "a veteran lagging
superfluous on the stage."
That was the most unkindest cut of all. Mr. Weed was at that time living
in retirement, but he still contributed vigorous and timely articles to
the editorial columns of this same journal. He was grievously hurt by
the gratuitous affront to which he had been so rudely subjected, but all
he said was, "I may be superfluous, but no one can truthfully say I ever
was a laggard."
I believe the management of the paper apologized privately for the
stupid insult, ascribing the sub-editorial to one of the juniors, and
expressing regret that it should have been inadvertently printed. All
the same, Thurlow Weed never wrote another editorial, the untoward
incident putting an end to the labor of a long and arduous journalistic
career.
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