A few weeks ago, I wrote a column that drew on a Mark Twain short story about journalism turning observations into slanderous diatribes. Now, with spring in the air, I return to the peerless American humorist for another yarn, "How I Edited an Agricultural Paper." It's a superb instance of 19th century media criticism that remains as contemporary as the tendency of numerous well-paid journalists to talk through their hat at the drop of one.

"I did not take temporary editorship of an agricultural paper without misgivings," Twain's narrator explains at the outset. "Neither would a landsman take command of a ship without misgivings. But I was in circumstances that made the salary an object. The regular editor of the paper was going off for a holiday, and I accepted the terms he offered, and took his place."

Soon after the next edition hits the streets, the legitimate editor cuts short his vacation and hurries back to the newsroom. The problem is that the temporary editor has published such gems as: "Turnips should never be pulled, it injures them. It is much better to send a boy up and let him shake the tree."

As for the pumpkin, the editorial stated that "the custom of planting it in the front yard with the shrubbery is fast going out of vogue, for it is now generally conceded that the pumpkin as a shade tree is a failure."

The no-longer-vacationing editor informs the temp: "The street out here is full of people, and others are roosting on the fences, waiting to get a glimpse of you, because they think you are crazy. And well they might after reading your editorials. They are a disgrace to journalism. Why, what put it into your head that you could edit a paper of this nature?"

But Twain has another twist in store for readers — a rebuttal from the just-ousted temp worker. "I tell you I have been in the editorial business going on 14 years, and it is the first time I ever heard of a man's having to know anything in order to edit a newspaper," he replies.

"You turnip! Who write the dramatic critiques for the second-rate papers? Why, a parcel of promoted shoemakers and apprentice apothecaries, who know just as much about good acting as I do about good farming and no more. Who review the books? People who never wrote one. Who do up the heavy leaders on finance? Parties who have had the largest opportunities for knowing nothing about it."

On his way out the door, the erstwhile editor adds: "Who write the temperance appeals, and clamor about the flowing bowl? Folks who will never draw another sober breath till they do it in the grave. Who edit the agricultural papers, you — yam? Men, as a general thing, who fail in the poetry line, yellow-colored novel line, sensation-drama line, city-editor line, and finally fall back on agriculture as a temporary reprieve from the poor-house.

"You try to tell me anything about the newspaper business! Sir, I have been through it from Alpha to Omaha, and I tell you that the less a man knows the bigger the noise he makes and the higher the salary he commands. Heaven knows if I had but been ignorant instead of cultivated, and impudent instead of diffident, I could have made a name for myself in this cold, selfish world.

"I take my leave, sir. Since I have been treated as you have treated me, I am perfectly willing to go. But I have done my duty. I have fulfilled my contract as far as I was permitted to do it. I said I could make your paper of interest to all classes — and I have. I said I could run your circulation up to 20,000 copies, and if I had had two more weeks I'd have done it. And I'd have given you the best class of readers that ever an agricultural paper had — not a farmer in it, nor a solitary individual who could tell a watermelon-tree from a peach-vine to save his life. You are the loser by this rupture, not me, Pie-plant. Adios."

Norman Solomon's books include "War Made Easy: How Presidents and Pundits Keep Spinning Us to Death." A documentary film of the same name, based on the book, has just been released on DVD nationwide. For information about Norman Solomon, go to www.normansolomon.com, or visit the Creators Syndicate Web page at www.creators.com.

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