ANDREW
DEWAR WILLOCKANDREW DEWAR WILLOCK was born at Dundee on 8th November, 1848. At the age of thirteen he entered the Dundee Advertiser office as "p.d." and in due time became a full-fledged compositor. He began to scribble nonsense papers for the Evening Telegraph, then newly started, under the nom-de-plume of "Job," and these were so much appreciated by the proprietor, Sir John Leng, that Mr. Willock was invited to become sub-editor of the People's Journal, under Mr. W. D. Latto, the celebrated "Tammas Bodkin." While in this position he wrote "Rosetty Ends" (afterwards issued in book form by David Douglas, Edinburgh). In 1885 Mr. Willock was offered the editorship of a new weekly paper, the Scottish People, which had been started under the auspices of the Scottish Conservative party. The paper was at first printed in Aberdeen, but was in 1887 transferred to the office of the Scottish News in Glasgow. While in Aberdeen Mr. Willock wrote "She Noddit to Me," a piece inspired by Queen Victoria's annual journey past Ferryhill Junction. The verses attracted the Queen's attention, and by command a letter was sent to the editor of Bon-Accord desiring the name of the writer. This fact caused considerable fuss at the time, but gave no great delight to the author, as no one seemed to have discovered that the lines were worth noticing until the Royal approval was accorded them. The Scottish News in course of time went to its rest, and after two or three years the Scottish People followed it. Subsequently Mr. Willock joined the staff of the Evening Times, and later was appointed literary director of the Weekly Herald. For seven years he wrote the humorous serials for Ally Sloper's Half Holiday, and was also during that period a regular contributor to Fun and Hood's Comic Annual. A selection of his comic serials was issued in book form by Gilbert Dalziell under the title of "Tarrididdles;" and the Leadenhall Press also published a group of the papers written under the nom-de-plume of "Job," the book bearing the rather extraordinary title of "Never Hit a Man named Sullivan." All the books are now out of print, which, the author philosophically remarks, "argues a gratifying briskness at some period in the retail snuff and tobacco trades." Mr. Willock has been a diligent writer of witty nonsense for fully a quarter of a century. After the death of his friend Mr. Robert Ford in 1906 he saw through the press "Heroines of Burns," the last work of that voluminous Scottish writer.