Miss Hazeltine's Christmas Number

Miss Julia Anne Scott Hazeltine was certain that the city editor at the Brooklyn Daily Eagle was going to be so grateful - so pleased! As a matter of fact, it would be one of the nicest Christmas presents anyone would be receiving in all of Brooklyn in 1882.

The city editor was not expecting any company that December afternoon, and seemed startled when she glided up to his desk, where he sat deep in thought, a blizzard of papers piled up around him. To get his attention, she threw a "little satchel" onto his desk, which disarranged the papers and certainly got his full attention - which was most gratifying.

Miss Hazeltine told him at once that this was no social call, but a visit between professional colleagues. "I'm a journalist. I write for all the principal story papers, besides a number of the magazines and one or two daily papers."

"You must have your hands full," the city editor remarked.

"Oh no," Miss Hazeltine confided. "I find plenty of time to do everything. I just slap off a love story, say in the morning; jump in and do a poem or two after luncheon, and get in some correspondence after supper. Oh, I know what women can do, and I'm proving my theory that we can accomplish just as much, if not more, than the men, if we are only given a fair show. Now I came in to see you about Christmas." She took a chair and pulled it up to the editor's desk. She settled down in it and gave him a bright steady look.

"Anything particularly odd about the holiday this year?" he asked.

"No, but you bring out a paper every Sunday?"

"We do."

"Now, what you want on the Sunday before Christmas is a Christmas number," said Miss Hazeltine. "Do you catch on to the idea? Something full of everything about Christmas. A regular holiday issue of the paper. See?" She beamed at him and sat back a little.

"Perfectly," he said. "But I do not see how you can be interested -"

"Ah, that's just the point. You see, I know just what a Christmas number should be. I know how to get it up. Now, I propose to bring out your Christmas number for you. " She smiled. She told him her name and handed him one of her business cards. He remarked that he had never seen any of her writings in print, ever.

Miss Hazeltine nodded; she said that newspaper men did not have time to read stories, never mind have any time to write them. Which was why she would be perfect for the Eagle. She would make them a Christmas number that would make every newspaper editor in the country jealous. Then she took a large roll of manuscript out of her pocketbook: a nice long story for the first page. "A regular Dickens' Christmas snap," it was. And then here was a poem -

He said that they really did not care to use any of these suggestions and -

But if he just heard the opening chapter - no? Then perhaps the opening verses of her poem "Christmas Morning to the Snowbird":

The snow is sifting through the air
And falling very fast;
And snowbirds hopping here and there
Sing Christmas's come at last.

The air is full of frost and ice
Jack Frost is on the window,
And little Johnny thinks it's nice
To send pennies to the Hindoo.*

At this point the city editor got up and ran to the press room, where he hid for two hours, until Miss Hazeltine had rolled up her manuscripts and gone away again. 

From "Salad for Sunday" (an op-ed feature), Brooklyn Daily Eagle, December 17, 1882, p. 4. I love Miss Hazeltine and am fascinated with her, and have been trying to trace her life and career; thus far, I have found nothing but this little story. I will post a follow-up when and if I do discover more about her, or any of her writings. I very much hope to. At the very least, I will be basing a fictional character upon her, without a doubt (and so, you see, finding this article was a bit of a Christmas present for me!).

[Note: The dialogue is taken verbatim from the article; but I have imagined some of the looks and actions of the editor and Miss Hazeltine, based on their conversation.]

*Shades of Mrs. Jellyby - Miss H. is rather a Dickensian character herself, isn't she?

The picture of the Eagle building in 1898 is from the NYPL Digital Gallery, as is the picture of the ladies reading nnd the holly-and-bird postcard.