H 
 'Rpco - 
 
 N
 
 Pictures of American Life and Character 
 Past and Present
 
 " These he presented to his superior, who received them with 
 visible reluctance." Page 242.
 
 AN ALIEN 
 
 Tbe Romance of an Odd Young Man 
 
 BY 
 
 ftobert 
 
 AUTHOR OF " A PESSIMIST " 
 
 BOSTON 
 CUPPLES AND KURD, PUBLISHERS 
 
 Slgonqum 
 1889
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1889, 
 BY CUPPLES & KURD. 
 
 All rights resirved.
 
 . *. 
 
 2072278
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I. PROLOGUE . 9 
 
 BOOK FIRST. 
 EARLY DAYS. 
 
 II. THE EASTERN SHORE .... 17 
 
 III. A HAZING PARTY 24 
 
 IV. ECHOES OF ALMA MATER ... 32 
 V. INFANTILE CONFERENCES ... 36 
 
 VI. GUI BONO? 42 
 
 VII. THE SOCRATIC IDEA 48 
 
 VIII. MRS. MAGELLAN'S ..... 52 
 
 IX. THE DE GROUTS 58 
 
 BOOK SECOND. 
 TACKVILLE AND MILETUS. 
 
 X. WESTWARD Ho ...... 69 
 
 XI. LAW AT TACKVILLE 76 
 
 XII. MRS. CLAYBANK 83 
 
 XIII. NATURE AND HUMAN NATURE . . 90 
 
 XIV. UP THE RIVER ...... 99 
 
 XV. MR. RUSTLER no 
 
 XVI. A PHANTOM BALL 123 
 
 XVII. FIFTEEN MONTHS LATER .... 132
 
 viii Contents. 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 XVIII. A FOURTH OF JULY ORATION ... 138 
 
 XIX. AN EXAMINATION 147 
 
 XX. JOURNALISTIC PROSPECTS .... 155 
 
 XXI. MILESIAN OPPORTUNITIES . . . 162 
 
 XXII. DROPPING INTO POETRY .... 172 
 
 XXIII. HOMESICK 177 
 
 XXIV. MR. JANDYKE'S VIEWS . . . . 186 
 
 BOOK THIRD. 
 THE OAKLANDS EPISODE. 
 
 XXV. BACK TO GOTHAM 193 
 
 XXVI. IN THE GLEN 199 
 
 XXVII. EMBARRASSING 206 
 
 XXVIII. CLINTON EXPLAINS 212 
 
 XXIX. IT WOULD NOT DO ... 222 
 
 BOOK FOURTH. 
 IN HARNESS. 
 
 XXX. MR. PRANCE 235 
 
 XXXI. EDITING MADE EASY .... 244 
 
 XXXII. AN UNDOMESTIC INTERIOR . . . 258 
 
 XXXIII. AT DINNER WITH MR. LEAF ... 265 
 
 XXXIV. BUSINESS SECRETS 271 
 
 XXXV. BOOKS, ' READERS,' AND WRITERS . . 278 
 
 XXXVI. Miss LOUISE 286 
 
 XXXVII. EXIGENCIES OF LITERATURE . . . 295 
 
 XXXVIII. COSMIC PHILOSOPHY 305 
 
 XXXIX. MISFORTUNES COME DOUBLE . . . 321 
 
 XL. DEATH AND MATRIMONY . . . . 331 
 
 XLI. GREAT NEWS 338 
 
 XLII. A LAME CONCLUSION .... 352
 
 AN ALIEN 
 FROM THE COMMONWEALTH. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 PROLOGUE. 
 
 " THE trouble with you, Dick, is that you don't 
 go at things in the right way." 
 
 " No doubt of it, Bob. But that is a very gen- 
 eral statement." 
 
 " Oh, I can make it more definite, if you wish. 
 Mostly you don't go after things at all, but wait 
 for them to come to you, which it is not their 
 nature to do." 
 
 " So it seems. I wouldn't care whether they 
 came or not, if I could do as well without 
 them." 
 
 " Precisely ; but you can't. In this world, men 
 are largely dependent on things." 
 
 " That's what I object to, Bob. It's humiliating
 
 IO Prologue. 
 
 and absurd. I can't believe we were made to 
 expend our whole energies on beggarly carnalities, 
 money-getting and the like. Men are greater 
 than things, and ought not to be enslaved to 
 
 them." 
 
 "But they are or principally by lack of the 
 things. Present arrangements have no respect 
 for our abstract dignity, my boy. What you are 
 is judged by what you do, and what you can do 
 depends largely on what you have got. Moreover, 
 what you have got is supposed by many in fact, 
 by nearly everybody to be the proof, and test, 
 and measure, of what you can do, and so of what 
 
 you are." 
 
 "That is low materialism. I despise these mere 
 external valuations. A man ought to be appraised 
 for what he is, not for the clothes he wears or the 
 house he lives in." , 
 
 " Very likely, Dick ; but what ought to be is one 
 thing, and what is, another. You live in a world 
 of your own, and pay too little attention to re- 
 ceived opinions." 
 
 " But the opinions are wrong, and ought to be 
 changed." 
 
 " Set to work to change them, then ; you'll have 
 your hands full for life." 
 
 " I would, if I thought there was any use of try- 
 ing, and saw my way to keep above ground and 
 out of debt while I was at it. But the difficulty 
 would be to get an audience unless I paid them
 
 Prologue. 1 1 
 
 to come. They certainly wouldn't pay me for 
 attacking their traditional position." 
 
 " They might, if you were more of a fanatic : 
 a reformer has to be that, you know. But you 
 are only a critic. I don't say you lack the courage 
 of your convictions, but you have no evangelistic 
 zeal. You are not yearning to convert others ; 
 you care only to coddle your doxies, and go your 
 own way." 
 
 " Well, it does seem to me that every tub ought 
 to stand on its own bottom. I am willing to let 
 my neighbors alone, if they will return the compli- 
 ment." 
 
 "Oh, they will; have no fear about that. But 
 will that suit your book ? It seems to me you 
 can't afford to be let alone. You see, so inde- 
 pendent a mind needs an independent fortune. 
 As yoH are situated, you have to keep on terms 
 with the world." 
 
 " I want no favors ; only a chance to exercise 
 such talents as Heaven has given me. I propose 
 to fill any post I may occupy, and give an honest 
 dollar's worth for every dollar I take." 
 
 " Undoubtedly. But whoever pays you a dollar, 
 or gives you a chance to earn it, does you a favor, 
 until you get your name well up and your services 
 in demand. That's the way they look at it, and 
 you can't change the fact. The competition is 
 great ; and he who wants work must put his soul 
 into the search for it, as well as into the doing of
 
 I2 Prologue. 
 
 it after he finds it. And that is what you won't 
 do ; you might the last possibly, but not the other, 
 which is the more important of the two. You're 
 too proud and too wilful." 
 
 " Very few pursuits seem worth investing one's 
 whole soul in, Bob ; a fair measure of brain and 
 conscience ought to be enough for them. One 
 should keep most of his force in reserve for higher 
 occasions, and use some of it to find out what is 
 worth doing." 
 
 "All that is for your private satisfaction, and 
 practically useful only as a means toward doing 
 something that will tell. The world cares nothing 
 about your observations and your reserve forces ; 
 it asks only, ' What has he put into the common 
 fund? What has he to show? What is he 
 doing that contributes to his own and the gen- 
 eral interest?' You see, it must tell some- 
 how." 
 
 "Always this everlasting doing, Bob! They 
 make such a fuss about it, and it amounts to so 
 little. I don't like the world and its ways ; I can't 
 take its point of view." 
 
 " If you announce that, you will have a bad time 
 in it, Dick. Since you are compelled to live in it, 
 and not in some distant planet constructed ac- 
 cording to your own ideas, you had better conform 
 to its customs and requirements." 
 
 " I am willing to do my part, since, as you say, 
 I have to make my own way and get my own
 
 Prologue. 13 
 
 living. I wish I hadn't ; the whole thing is a bore. 
 I'll work if they will let me ; but I can't get up 
 any great enthusiasm about it, or pretend that 
 dross is gold."
 
 BOOK FIRST. 
 
 EARLY DAYS.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE EASTERN SHORE. 
 
 IT might be inferred from the above conver- 
 sation that my poor friend was younger than his 
 actual age, or else a cowardly imbecile, which was 
 far from true. He was at this time about twenty- 
 six, and a person of very fair parts and excellent 
 principles, or what would have appeared such had 
 he been in harmony with his environment. But it 
 was largely a case of heredity, and I had better 
 begin the tale pretty far back. 
 
 The Graftons used to be people of consequence, 
 with large estates bordering on the Chesapeake. 
 One of them sat for a while in Congress, which 
 was perhaps no discredit in those days ; his father 
 had rendered service in the Revolution. Long 
 before that, as long after, they were local mag- 
 nates, keeping open house, and living easily on 
 slave labor. This sort of thing does not last for- 
 ever, and the race was slow to learn modern man- 
 ners. On the eastern shore, it was said, the lower 
 orders continued to hurrah for George Third at the
 
 !g The Eastern Shore. 
 
 beginning of the century, and to vote for Jackson 
 long after he was under ground. In the Grafton 
 neighborhood, within the memory of men yet liv- 
 ing, were two ancient spinsters of illustrious name, 
 who could not read let us hope they had once 
 learned but forgotten and maintained themselves 
 in squalor by hiring out a pair of negroes, the 
 meagre remnant of their personal property. Dick's 
 family kept up their traditions somewhat better ; 
 the men were sent to college, and came home to 
 ride, shoot, fish, and occupy themselves with dying 
 out. What vitality was in the blood generally 
 passed to the eldest son ; his brother (there were 
 seldom more than the two) neither founded a new 
 house nor long encumbered the old one. It was 
 a startling novelty when the last of these cadets, 
 after some unusual escapades, disappeared during 
 the infancy of our unheroic hero, and was believed 
 to have gone West. 
 
 Of Dick's grandfather an edifying incident was 
 remembered. The heir of a Philadelphia mer- 
 chant-prince, travelling in that benighted region, 
 called at the manor-house to present a letter of 
 introduction. The old gentleman glanced it over, 
 recognized the signature, and was heard to mutter, 
 " Damned tape-seller !" before rising to discharge 
 the duties of lavish hospitality. His son was of 
 gentler and less bigoted strain, but ill-fitted to 
 increase any of his belongings except the library. 
 There he mostly passed his time, a reader and
 
 The Eastern Shore. 19 
 
 theorizer, meditating plans that came to nothing, 
 while servants idled and overseers gathered acres 
 and bank accounts. 
 
 The boy, an only child this time, grew up at 
 will, wandering over woods and streams, but his 
 tastes were quiet and bookish ; unguided, he 
 learned as much as he might have gained in 
 school. The war passed by them little heeded : 
 they were not politicians, and newspapers were 
 infrequent visitors at the remote plantation. The 
 father died when Richard was twelve ; the mother, 
 placid and colorless, responded mildly to his mild 
 affection, and exerted little influence upon him. 
 Thus outward life made no strong impression ; its 
 activities never came within his ken. He read of 
 cities and foreign lands with no eager curiosity 
 to see them ; the march of history, the strife of 
 nations and of trade, the adventures of love and 
 war, of travel and of business, seemed to him but 
 a curious panorama, a puppet-show better to look 
 at than take part in. He had few comrades of his 
 own or any age, nor did he pine for them ; to sit 
 on the veranda with a book, to paddle lazily on 
 the creeks and inlets, was occupation enough. 
 His mind was never idle, but it had little hold on 
 externals ; it was his kingdom, and he wanted no 
 other. He took matters " by and large ; " he early 
 learned to generalize, and became impatient of 
 details. Man to him was more than men ; he 
 was at home in abstractions, puzzled and wearied
 
 2o The Eastern Shore. 
 
 before the concrete. As he grew older he mused 
 much upon the fallen fortunes of his line, but no 
 thought of restoring them occurred to him as a 
 definite possibility ; he was the last, and the tale 
 of what had gone before seemed to impose a law 
 on him. These things went as they were ordered, 
 and how could he resist the ordering, or succeed 
 where his fathers had failed ? The ends that men 
 were said to value so highly might be well enough 
 if one had them and could take them quietly ; but 
 surely they were not worth setting one's heart on 
 and struggling for so furiously. To be useful, 
 that might be good if one knew how and had a 
 gift that way ; but taken selfishly, wealth, honors, 
 power, were nothing except for their effect upon 
 the mind ; and if the mind did not care for them, 
 why then as well be without them. No ; exemp- 
 tion from the strife, to be away from the madding 
 crowd, was best. A decent competence, shelter 
 from the storm, peace and leisure and liberty, 
 were all one need desire ; and if he could not have 
 these, he would at least compromise, and take life 
 on a small scale. 
 
 " Sound sleep by night; study and ease 
 
 Together mixt; sweet recreation ; 
 And innocence, which most does please 
 With meditation." 
 
 Many a youth of introspective cast has thus 
 mused in salad days of greenness, and changed the 
 opinion when he was older; but with poor Richard
 
 The Eastern SJiore. 21 
 
 the choice was sincere and wise. Had he been 
 differently trained from infancy had some firm 
 hand persistently drawn him out of himself, and 
 fitted him against his will for the battle of life, he 
 might perchance have been able to win and hold 
 his own, or even to make his mark ; for he lacked 
 not power of brain and will, but only direction of 
 these ; a direction he never received till given 
 by hard necessity, and accepted under protest. 
 There may be many who fall under the burden 
 and heat of the day, unlamented, and scorned as 
 imbeciles, who might have deserved honors and a 
 better fate, idealists like Sidney Lanier, lacking 
 his high resolve to do and die ; souls manly and 
 capable as Bayard Taylor's, could they have be- 
 lieved with him that it is possible -to serve both 
 God and Mammon, and that the prize is worth the 
 race. The world has no respect and little pity for 
 them, for they do not follow its paths ; but I sup- 
 pose the saying that heaven is for such as have 
 failed on earth applies to these whose failure 
 came by no inherent vice or weakness, but from 
 lack of harmony with their surroundings, from in- 
 ability to worship the gods the popular Nebuchad- 
 nezzar has set up. If we take them into the 
 account at all, it certainly needs the prospect of 
 another world, managed on broader principles than 
 this, to save one's faith in the general ordering. 
 If success be the only test of merit, it is not easy 
 to see that we have advanced much beyond the
 
 22 The Eastern Shore. 
 
 feudal notion disclaimed by Rumbold under the 
 gallows, that some are brought into the world 
 booted and spurred to ride, and others saddled and 
 bridled to be ridden. 
 
 Dick Grafton, if you took him intrinsically, had 
 as much force of character as anybody I ever 
 knew ; but it was his curse that his character 
 expressed itself negatively. No one could over- 
 rule him, or lead him where he did not choose to 
 go ; no force of circumstances could make him do 
 what he thought wrong ; but looked at from out- 
 side he had not the same will-power for doing as 
 for refusing. He was not stubborn in a vulgar 
 way, like so many stupid folks who call their obsti- 
 nacy firmness, and are proud of it ; he was not 
 actively or consciously wilful, though I often called 
 him so. He was always willing to hear both sides, 
 to discuss a matter to its roots ; but he seemed to 
 be governed by an inward law that made it impos- 
 sible for him to take the popular and conquering 
 course. The genesis of this intractability should 
 appear from what has been told of his childhood. 
 He never was under tutors and governors when 
 he ought to have been ; left thus alone, his nature 
 turned in upon itself, and stiffened and hardened 
 at the core, when outwardly it was soft and pli- 
 able. 
 
 I believe there are more people than we usually 
 think who hide this dogged immovableness under 
 a mild exterior, and without the least hypocrisy
 
 The Eastern Shore. 23 
 
 or affectation. When they can take care of them- 
 selves, it is all well enough ; but when they can- 
 not, it is very difficult to help them.
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 A HAZING PARTY. 
 
 THE pressure of visible need might have awak- 
 ened Dick from his dreams, but no such pressure 
 was felt while, his mother lived, for she kept the 
 place together somehow, and they never went away 
 from home. Emancipation had destroyed the last 
 vestige of their wealth, for the land was worn out 
 and heavily mortgaged ; but the barnyard and the 
 creeks supplied abundant food, and thus far there 
 was no lack of clothing. Thus matters went on 
 in a slovenly, careless fashion till Mrs. Grafton 
 died, when Dick was just seventeen. He mourned 
 her sincerely, but not violently ; whatever passions 
 might exist within him had not yet been called 
 forth. After the funeral his guardian, a distant 
 relative, came to the front. 
 
 " Young man," said he, " you will never make a 
 farmer, but I hear you are good at your books. 
 The house is going to pieces ; to repair it and 
 make the fields productive would more than ex- 
 haust your capital. Education will be a more
 
 A Hazing Party, 25 
 
 profitable investment for you. There is nothing 
 to keep you here, and you ought to see the outside 
 world. I think we had better let the place go ; 
 it will yield enough, with economy, to carry you 
 through college, and give you a start in life." 
 
 This sounded wise, and Richard had nothing 
 to say against it : as to where he should go and 
 what he should do he was quite willing to be 
 guided, if any one would take the trouble to guide 
 him. So he said farewell to the familiar water- 
 ways, shed a few private tears over the old clog 
 that had been his comrade almost since he could 
 remember, and started for a cooler and more 
 energetic clime. Yale was among the family tra- 
 ditions ; a few months of preparation qualified him 
 for entrance, and there I first met him in the fall. 
 
 A little contact with his kind had taught him 
 much ; he was not afflicted with hobbledehoy 
 shyness, and no one suspected how hermit-like 
 his life had been. I was a sophomore then, and 
 the custom of hazing had not been abandoned. 
 Dick had few acquaintances ; but his room-mate, 
 a little fellow blest with a brother among the 
 juniors, was posted, and had given him the neces- 
 sary points. So, when a party of us called on 
 them one evening, we were politely but warily 
 received. They set up the beer ; our leader, 
 noted as a " bad man " and freshman-hater, poured 
 into Dick's portion, unseen as he thought, an 
 infusion of something stronger. Presently Dick,
 
 26 A Hazing Party. 
 
 with more success in escaping notice, exchanged 
 glasses : one or two of us, who detected the ma- 
 noeuvre, found no opportunity to warn Jones before 
 he swallowed the compound. Soon our hosts were 
 invited to contribute vocal music to the amenities 
 of the occasion. " Unfortunately, I don't sing," 
 said Dick; "but Mr. Jones here is good at it, I 
 am told." Jones, who was by this time in a state 
 of maudlin amiability and ready to fraternize with 
 his worst foe, promptly complied, and made a 
 sufficient exhibition of himself. So heterodox a 
 turning of the tables deeply disgusted us, for when 
 had a sophomore ever made mirth for freshmen ? 
 The Marylander was asked, with some urgency, 
 to display his powers in other directions ; but all 
 these suggestions he coolly declined. ' 
 
 The hazing fervor at that time had received 
 some discouragement from tales, probably apocry- 
 phal, of a wild Arkansan who, being beset in his 
 room at Ann Arbor, had turned off the gas, picked 
 up a heavy chair, and "gone for" the crowd in 
 the dark with good will and too marked results, 
 and of a Carolinian who had knifed his assailants 
 nearer home. Much respect was felt for South- 
 ern prowess, and it was agreed that students from 
 Spanish- American lands should be exempt from 
 domiciliary visits. At a council held on the first 
 night of term, the truculent Jones himself re- 
 marked, "Understand, boys, these foreign ducks 
 are to be let alone. They're not up to our customs,
 
 A Hazing Party. 27 
 
 and it's not fair or hospitable to bother them ; I 
 don't go into any arsenal. And I say, fellers, let's 
 look out for these coons from the cotton states, and 
 inquire whether a man carries a bowie before we 
 drop in on him. We want to do it gentlemanly, 
 and not get into rows with any dashed duellist." 
 
 The committee of investigation had satisfied 
 themselves that Grafton was harmless, and so 
 instructed the squad which took his case in hand ; 
 but when the critical moment arrived, our a ptiori 
 doubts returned. He was from the wrong side 
 of the line after all, and he had a Southern look. 
 He was well grown and muscular for his age, 
 with very dark hair, a firm chin, and an eye that 
 looked as if it could flash. His easy manners 
 showed good blood, and hinted at dignity in 
 reserve, if there should be any call for it ; his 
 tranquil presence of mind was more than we had 
 expected. Veal is better adapted to the hazing 
 process than precocious beef; so after looking 
 at each other awhile, and answering his civil 
 questions rather tamely, we rose to go, on the 
 best terms with our entertainers, and feeling 
 that we had furnished too much of the entertain- 
 ment ourselves. Our ex-hero Jones was in no 
 condition to rise ; as we lifted him, Grafton ob- 
 served, in a tone of dispassionate criticism, " His 
 head must be weak. I'm not much used to beer 
 myself, but I can't imagine its affecting me like 
 that"
 
 28 A Hazing Party. 
 
 Having thus begun his college course with tclat 
 my friend (as he soon became) continued it with 
 decent credit, but without fulfilling the expecta- 
 tions to which his first exploit had given rise. 
 Several fraternities sounded him, but he said he 
 had not much cash to spare for luxuries, and did 
 not care to branch out just then. His classmates, 
 at first disposed to rally round him, soon found 
 that he was a peaceable youth with no pretensions 
 to leadership. He went into athletics enough to 
 meet their demands, and into junketings suffi- 
 ciently to avoid being thought mean or unsocial, 
 but he was not bigoted to such. " I don't know 
 how to take Grafton," the great Van Snoozer was 
 heard to state. Van Snoozer was an F. F. and 
 plutocrat in one, handsome, envied, and courted, 
 who held his head high, and had a right to. " He's 
 friendly enough when you drop in on him, and 
 always has time to hear what you've got to say. 
 He'll go out with you when you ask him 
 sometimes. He's not a mere grind, nor the least 
 of a cad in any way, and you can't say he's 
 offish. But he doesn't seem to appreciate your 
 attentions, nor to value his opportunities." At 
 this point Tufts, who stood listening reverently 
 on the outskirts, sighed at the thought of such a 
 waste, and groaned and frowned over the sac- 
 rilege of it. "O, yes, I know he'll stand by a 
 friend ; but how much does he care for his friends, 
 or for anything, as far as you can see? If this
 
 A Hazing Party. 29 
 
 were England now, and he a duke's son, with 
 rent-roll and the rest to match, it might do ; but 
 as it is, I'm blanked if I can understand his 
 being so dashed indifferent." 
 
 This was delivered with some feeling. It was 
 difficult to patronize Grafton ; and Van, whom he 
 had pulled and pushed through a tough exami- 
 nation, and whose usage it was to pay for such 
 services in suppers, introductions, and the like, 
 was naturally puzzled, as were some others. But 
 Dick fell into no snares and made no enemies. 
 The only sins you could lay at his door were 
 negative. He was not this, that, or the other, 
 one or sundry of which a youth generally is and is 
 expected to be ; not gluttonous nor a wine-bibber, 
 nor a friend of jockeys and actresses ; no toady to 
 wealth or station or office ; no devotee to football 
 or waltzing, nor yet even to chemistry and calcu- 
 lus; neither pietist, bookworm, nor worldling of 
 any ascertained and labelled type, but just a quiet 
 fellow who did his daily tasks and somewhat 
 more, asked no favors, and liked to look about 
 him and see how men disported themselves and 
 how things were done. Now observation of char- 
 acter and manners is not a recognized profession, 
 nor is it easy to see how one may make a living 
 by it. If you have a definite aim indeed, if 
 you mean to be a politician, and secure people's 
 votes ; or a blackmailer, and realize on their 
 secrets ; or a novelist, and expound their weak-
 
 30 A Hazing Party. 
 
 nesses, there may be profit in this calm study 
 of vour kind. But none of these was likely to 
 be Grafton's "lay:" the trouble about him was 
 that he seemed to have no " lay " no serious 
 purpose in .life, such as the rest of us pursue. 
 Even his observations sometimes bored him, be- 
 cause no mastering sympathy entered into them. 
 A man must take his line, and follow it as if it 
 were liable to lead to something, or what would 
 the world come to ? Little Tufts, perhaps the 
 only man in college who actively disliked Dick, 
 used to say, "The feller's a fool, don't yer see? 
 Why, he's poor, he is, and yet he never borrows, 
 though Van Snoozer would lend him fifty any 
 day. Don't even return half Van's visits ; 
 dash such an ass, I say. Plays a good hand at 
 whist and billiards, and never makes any money 
 by it won't gamble, he says ! I wish to Jove 
 I had the chances he throws away. Would you 
 believe it, at the last hop old Billion's daughter 
 took a shine to him, the old lady too, and 
 invited him to their swell place by the Park ; and 
 the blanked idiot's never been ! ! I wish to Zeus 
 she'd take a shine to me. Don't even go to 
 Prex's, or to the profs', though a dozen of 'em 
 have asked him ; hasn't sense enough to see that 
 somethin' can be made out of the Faculty. What 
 the demon does he mean by such conduct ? Just 
 grubs and looks at Life, he says. What the 
 hades is the use of lookin' at Life, unless you're
 
 A Hazing Party. 31 
 
 on spec, goin' to make a pot out of it, eh ? No 
 make in him at all ; he'll never do any good in 
 this world. Dod gast such a gosh blasted loafer, 
 anyway."
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 ECHOES OF ALMA MATER. 
 
 THESE comminations, and such occasion for 
 them as their object may have furnished, were 
 of later date. I do not propose to afflict the 
 reader with a detailed narrative of Dick's four 
 years in academic halls. They constituted the 
 happiest portion of his life at least that is the 
 received and canonical opinion as to all of us. 
 And yet, however important and blissful that 
 early and formative era, there is seldom much to 
 say about it afterwards. How flat and stale the 
 recollection of experiences once full of zest, the 
 surreptitious joys of evenings in oyster-cellars ; 
 the well-planned assault on freshman windows ; 
 the breathless retreat, hotly pursued by minions 
 of the law ; the ecstasy of painting Professor Z.'s 
 horse blue, and painfully leading him up the 
 stairs ; the delirious rapture of skulking through 
 snow half the night, picking a few locks, and 
 bearing away in trembling triumph the clapper of 
 the big bell ! Why is it that when graybeards
 
 Echoes of Alma Mater. 33 
 
 meet to exchange reminiscences of lang syne, 
 their sedate tongues babble of grovelling class- 
 room imbecilities ? How, during the brief career 
 of Jugs and Grogson, they would enter with 
 unsteady step, lean heavily on the back of a 
 friendly bench, fix on the blackboard a glassy 
 stare, thickly answer in the very words of the 
 book, and fall wofully at the first departure from 
 that sacrosanct order, or question of how and why. 
 How Shirk used to pin his faith to Diddle, and 
 drink in wisdom from his monitory lips, and from 
 them alone ; how in history, gently wooed to name 
 some of these Elizabethan free lances of the sea, 
 " Now, Mr. Shirk, who was Raleigh's half- 
 brother? I am sure you know. Sir Hum- 
 phrey ? " He bent toward his chosen guide, 
 caught two magic syllables, and cheerfully respond- 
 ed, "O, yes, sir, of course ! Sir Humphry Davy." 
 How in chemistry, required to state the properties 
 of gold, he turned to the same unfailing source 
 of light, and rejoiced professor and class with 
 the priceless information that " All is not gold 
 that glitters." But in the Latin room no such 
 vicarious wisdom was accepted, for Syntax knew 
 boys ; no getting around him. You remember 
 Dummy's handling of the intricate passage that 
 began, Et insignum ? By rule he was allowed 
 five minutes. For two of them he stood with the 
 book close to his nose, then looked up and ven- 
 tured with dubious inquiry, " Et and?" This
 
 34 Echoes of Alma Mater. 
 
 being admitted, three minutes more passed in 
 solemn silence; then, with more confidence, " In- 
 signum the ensign ? " 
 
 Grafton's enjoyment of such feats was less 
 vociferous than that of the rest. Not that he and 
 I were ever in the same class : I would not have 
 you suppose that I was dropped a year. But he 
 surveyed most phenomena with placid tolerance, 
 feeling nowise responsible for idle dullards like 
 Shirk and Dummy ; as for Grogson and Jugs, 
 why, if men chose to mistake themselves for lower 
 animals, that was their affair. Obviously, Dick 
 would make but a fourth-class missionary. But it 
 was not safe to practise gross meanness or injus- 
 tice when he was by. He never fought, but he 
 had a way of drawing himself up and staring at 
 you from under lowered brows that was unpleas- 
 antly suggestive. Once there was a contest be- 
 tween Truman and Caddy for a prize, and we all 
 knew who deserved it. While others were talking 
 about what ought to be done if it should fall to 
 Caddy, Graf ton went to him and said, " If you like 
 to cheat through an examination and avoid a flunk, 
 I have nothing to say ; but you ought to know 
 that honors and scholarships are not to be got 
 that way. If you get this one, I will tell the 
 authorities how you did it." 
 
 " You will ? Play informer, eh ? " 
 
 "Just so; and you can't say you had no 
 warning."
 
 Echoes of Alma Mater. 35 
 
 There was no more trouble about that. He 
 was a generous fellow too. He rather laughed at 
 philanthropy, but he used to do more good turns 
 than most of us. I stopped one night to take him 
 to a show; a very decent show it was, of the mildly 
 improving kind. I thought he had been working 
 too hard, and needed relaxation. 
 
 " I can't go, Bob; too busy, you see." 
 "What's all that exercise ? It's never yours." 
 " No," he said reluctantly, " it's Featherton's. 
 He had an engagement to-night, and I promised 
 to do it for him." 
 
 " How's this ? Helping the camel to go through 
 the needle's eye ? I thought you were down on 
 cheating." 
 
 " Yes ; but he's in a hole rather, and can't get 
 out by himself. It can't hurt anybody, and I 
 don't want to see him dropped." 
 
 " I say, what does he pay you for this ?" 
 He flushed. " Pay ? What do you take me 
 for? You'd do it, or anybody." 
 
 Now, "anybody " would not, as far as my experi- 
 ence goes ; but that was Dick all over. He would 
 let himself be imposed on by a careless ne'er-do- 
 well, who would forget the service to-morrow ; he 
 would waste an evening to do another's work in 
 misplaced good nature, and anxiously avoid get- 
 ting any credit or profit from it, then or ever 
 after,
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 INFANTILE CONFERENCES. 
 
 STUDENT customs have or had in my time 
 a rigidity which the outside world cannot compre- 
 hend, and which even to an alumnus of a dozen 
 years seems somewhat mediaeval. However badly 
 a junior might want a light for his cigarette, an 
 unwritten but Median law forbade him to accept 
 it on the campus from a lower classman. But 
 this rule was relaxed indoors and as graduation 
 approached, and during my last year Dick and I 
 came to be as intimate as he ever was with any 
 one. 
 
 " Grafton," I asked him one night, "what are 
 you going to do when you get through here ? " 
 
 "I am not sure. There's over a year yet. Take 
 to the law, I suppose." 
 
 " What for ? You don't care for law, do you ? " 
 
 " Not especially. How many fellows have any 
 marked taste or talent for anything in particular 
 I don't mean in the way of beer, tobacco, dinners, 
 dances, and the theatre, but occupation, line of
 
 Infantile Conferences. 37 
 
 life ? Not one in twenty. How do we know what 
 we are best fitted for ? Aptitudes are seldom 
 developed at our time of life. I rather envy those 
 who escape the bother of choosing, and have a 
 way marked out plain before them, like you. I 
 might go into business in that way, if I had it 
 all fixed, and paternal prestige, and skilled clerks 
 to conduct it for me. Otherwise, I have no turn 
 for it." 
 
 This he said not the least enviously, but simply, 
 as one who states a case. He was frank enough, 
 and ready to discuss any subject, but in a general, 
 impersonal way. When he brought himself in 
 which he was as ready to do as others it was as 
 illustrating the principle or case in hand ; not as if 
 his fortunes, or any external fact or set of facts, 
 could be a prime consideration. He seemed to 
 have no secrets, no ambitions, no prejudices, no 
 passions worth mentioning, and scarcely any 
 interests. 
 
 " By the way, what has become of your farm in 
 Maryland?" 
 
 " My guardian took that. It was encumbered, 
 you know." 
 
 " Makes a good thing of it, does he ? " 
 
 " Better than I should. I wouldn't mind living 
 there as my fathers did, if it were still mine. But 
 I know nothing about land and crops, and that. 
 Oh, it will come right somehow." 
 
 " You have no relations ? "
 
 38 Infantile Conferences. 
 
 "None of any account. The guardian never 
 cared for me, nor I for him. There was a brother 
 of my father's who went off ages ago and died, we 
 supposed ; he was never heard of again. No, I'm 
 all alone ; have to stand on my own pins, or 
 tumble." 
 
 " Would you mind telling me how you're set up, 
 Dick ? " 
 
 "Not the least, if I knew; but I've not en- 
 quired into details. Time for that when I come 
 of age. I believe there's enough to keep me 
 a while yet, and then I must get up and go to 
 work. So I thought of law. They say it leads 
 everywhere." 
 
 " I doubt if it leads where you want to go ; 
 politics are not in your way, surely. To do any 
 good at law you've got to persuade yourself that you 
 believe in it or pretend to, anyway. Remem- 
 ber Dummy, when he was plucked, and Smith 
 asked him what he would do next : ' I shall read 
 law; the study of the law is the most gentlemanly 
 excuse for doing nothing.' That might do for 
 him, but not for you." 
 
 "I'm not conscious of any wild longing to do 
 anything in particular, Bob ; and I presume I 
 could do one thing about as well as another. No 
 tormenting desire to show the world how to keep 
 house disturbs my sleep o' nights. I could be 
 content to sit still and see how folks do it of their 
 own motion."
 
 Infantile Conferences. 39 
 
 " So most of us feel ; we'd like to take it easy 
 and let others do the work. But that's not exactly 
 your style either." 
 
 "What I object to is the practical part the 
 competition and the scrambling. I can do my 
 own work if it's cut out for me, but I don't want 
 to push myself, and stand in some other fellow's 
 light. I suppose one can learn to do it, though, 
 when he has to." 
 
 " Why not try teaching ? You're an intellectual 
 chap you like books and ideas, and all that." 
 
 " District school, and board around, as Hobbs 
 did last summer ? Thanks ; such ambition as I 
 have flies a little higher than that." 
 
 " Well, journalism, then ; that might get you on 
 the literary line." 
 
 " You have to begin with reporting. I haven't 
 the cheek to ring people's door-bells and ask 'em 
 about their daughters' elopements. Do you be- 
 lieve I could be an author, Bob, write big books, 
 and be one of the few immortal names ? " 
 
 " You ask me too much, Dick : time alone can 
 tell. But you might be a writer. You generally 
 get ten on essays, don't you ? " 
 
 " Who'd want to print our essays ? They're 
 mere 'prentice work. O, yes ! with practice I 
 might do conundrums for the story papers, and 
 see my initials in the poet's corner. That might 
 suit Bardie here, but I don't seem to care about 
 it."
 
 40 Infantile Conferences, 
 
 At this point his chum, who had just come in, 
 took a hand. He was a wiry, nervous little boy, 
 with curly hair, blue eyes, and ideas far above his 
 stature ; said to be addicted to verse of his own 
 construction, but free from other vices. The roy- 
 sterers of their class called him and Dick the pair 
 of doves. 
 
 " You never do seem to care about anything ; 
 that's what's the matter with you. I wish you'd 
 take him out and shake him, Tim." 
 
 If any of my class had been present, I might 
 have felt obliged to resent a junior's making thus 
 free with my name. They all did it themselves, 
 but this was too unconventional. But, alas ! I was 
 never, like General Banks at New Orleans, great 
 on dignity ; and Bardie meant no harm. So I let 
 him go on. 
 
 " It's too bad ! Here are a dozen great careers 
 waiting for a chap that's got a head on him, and 
 a soul inside him ; and " 
 
 " Which of 'em do you mean to follow, Bardie ? " 
 
 " I ? Oh ! we're not talking about me ; Dick's 
 the theme just now. I don't mind you, Tim. You 
 waste your time dreadfully, and keep some pretty 
 rough company ; but you're not half as bad a lot 
 as you'd like people to think, and I for one believe 
 you've got a heart. Keep still now, and let me 
 go on. Why, he might be a statesman, and make 
 his voice heard in the council-halls of his state, or 
 even of the nation ; there's need enough of reform
 
 Infantile Conferences. 41 
 
 in Baltimore, close to where he came from. Or he 
 might be a doctor, and carry the balm of healing 
 to suffering thousands hough I don't think so 
 much of that, for the body isn't the man. Or he 
 might make a big fortune wait, now, and hear 
 me out ; not that that's of any account in itself, of 
 course, only think what good he might do with it ! 
 There's a lack of large-minded and public-spirited 
 millionnaires, as we all know. Or he might be a 
 great scholar, and shed abroad the light of science, 
 and perhaps get to be president of this concern in 
 time ; even here some improvements might be 
 made. He's got capacity, if he had any ambition. 
 Or " 
 
 " Or he might be a thumping preacher, only he 
 never could compete with you," Dick interrupted, 
 reaching for the tobacco jar. 
 
 " Or he might be a poet, and write beautiful 
 songs to bring tears to every female eye," said an- 
 other ; " but he doesn't seem to care for it, because 
 there you'd be ahead of him again." 
 
 " Well," said Bardie, flushing a little, " anyway 
 you both know he ought to be stirred up, and have 
 a noble aim, and go in for something great and 
 useful."
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 CUI BONO? 
 
 BUT enough perhaps too much of this inno- 
 cent childish talk. Alas poor infants, who think 
 the world is all before them where to choose, and 
 they can do pretty much anything if only they 
 make up their minds to this or that ! We smile 
 at the raw conceit, forgetting the sadness of the 
 spectacle in the light of what lies ahead. What 
 more pathetic than to hear green youth exclaim, 
 "I will be a statesman or a famous artist or 
 a great author ! " or what not ? Dear child, what 
 does the world care for you and your roseate 
 schemes ? How do you know it has any room for 
 you at all ? You may be thankful by and by if 
 through any sort of tolerably honest drudgery you 
 can pay the rent in an obscure back street, and the 
 butcher's and grocer's bills as they fall due. Bar- 
 die is now a meek little minister in a New Hamp- 
 shire village, raising a fine family on seven hundred 
 dollars a year. The light has gone out of his eye, 
 and he has forgotten more poetry, written or un-
 
 Cui Bono ? 43 
 
 written, than I ever knew ; but his sentences are 
 still neatly turned, and the old ladies of his flock 
 say he reads Dr. Watts's hymns beautifully. And 
 Dick poor Dick, dear Dick, who had more in 
 him than any of us, if only he could have brought 
 it to bear ah well, let us not look ahead so 
 eagerly, or so disconsolately. The evil day will 
 come soon enough ; there is abundant time to tell 
 of his struggle with environment. Let him repose 
 in the arms of Alma Mater while he may. His 
 tasks there are congenial and definite ; as yet 
 no vague responsibility for managing events and 
 shaping life perplexes his brain and dulls his 
 spirit ; the day has not arrived for half-envious 
 wonderment at those who, with far less mental 
 range and furnishing, solve easily the baser prob- 
 lems that were not included in his curriculum. 
 
 For such as Dick, and for multitudes little like 
 him, grave doubts may be raised as to the value of 
 a college course which prepares for and leads to 
 nothing. In a semi-feudal society, where a gentle- 
 man has his ancestral acres to retire to and per- 
 haps parliament to enter, he wants the traditional 
 accomplishments of his order; to keep on terms 
 with his Homer and Lucretius may be amusing 
 and appropriate. But that is another case than 
 ours. Of what use are Greek roots and meta- 
 physics to those who have to fight for a foothold, 
 and for every inch of advance ? They give tone 
 to the mind, perhaps, but not the tone that is
 
 44 Cut Bono ? 
 
 wanted for real life. A university atmosphere is 
 not that of the outside world : it may be purer 
 and finer, but when one descends from scholastic 
 heights into the marketplace, his lungs are poorly 
 fitted for the transition. Contact with books and 
 abstract ideas has given his brain a stamp which 
 does not recommend the goods, and turned it into 
 other roads than that of commerce. Not only is 
 the graduate distrusted in newspaper offices and 
 counting-rooms, but he feels himself too good for 
 the work that is open to him. It is coarse, and 
 he is fine, if not superfine : what a waste of his 
 acquirements, to hide them behind a desk or 
 counter! His nature has been subdued to what 
 it worked in, and now it must soak in another 
 vat and take a different dye. The aristocrat of 
 thought is but a poor plebeian before the aristoc- 
 racy of shares, and his careful speculations vain, 
 since they look to no returns of cash. Labori- 
 ously he must unlearn what he has been learning, 
 and begin with another alphabet a Volapiik of 
 trade, in which men compute and calculate to out- 
 wit each other. 
 
 I buy my cigars of Schnabeling, whose shop is 
 under the Hungarian theatre ; a fluent and trav- 
 elled exile, whose conversation is improving. " O, 
 yes," he informs me, " dis is better dan de oder. 
 Ven I teach Greek and Latin, my vife haf to do 
 de vashing ; now she vear silk and go to de play. 
 Tobacco pay veil, yes ; but classic ach!" He
 
 Cut Bono? 45 
 
 has introduced me to Professor Von Bamberg, 
 who holds several titles and a creditable post in 
 one of our erudite institutions. " I am too oldt to 
 schange," he says, " but our friendt here vas vise. 
 For vhat I spendt so many years at Heidelberg 
 and Berlin ? I am ghentleman, yes ; but vhat of 
 dhat ? I am an employe. My neighbor de 
 plumber, he employs oders, and earn ten dollar 
 vhile I earn von. He enjhoy life; he feel no 
 deficiency; he leave his schildren providedt for. 
 I live on a higher plane, you say, I haf mental 
 resources ? Ach, but dhat is not practical, not 
 American. It is de gelt, fecunia, r argent ! " 
 
 If my boys had their way to make, I should aim 
 to begin their training for it at the earliest pos- 
 sible moment. You send a youth to West Point 
 or Annapolis : only get him in, and he is all right 
 if he can stand the pace, and if the navy is not cut 
 down again. He goes forth with a profession, 
 such as it is, a position, a salary. They give him 
 some nominal work to do, whatever it may amount 
 to, and keep him at it ; at least he is not left out 
 in the cold, he does not have to think what he can 
 turn to next. That is one use of government ; 
 and that is the main argument for socialism, the 
 difficulty of finding and keeping a footing in the 
 crowd, the incompetence of many to do it. Why 
 should not education recognize the facts of mod- 
 ern life, and, instead of merely enlarging the circle 
 of one's wants, teach him how to supply them ?
 
 46 Cut Bono? 
 
 From time immemorial we have had schools of 
 law, physic, and divinity, and more recently of 
 engineering, agriculture, and finance ; yet about 
 even these hangs a suspicion of the visionary and 
 unsubstantial. Is theory naturally hostile to prac- 
 tice, and learning at variance with doing? I 
 have heard ministers say that all their theology 
 that was worth insuring was gained after leaving 
 the seminary, and engineers, that their diploma 
 signified no more than a plan after which their 
 house of professional knowledge was to be built. 
 As the country becomes more crowded and the 
 struggle for existence fiercer, our schemes of 
 study will have to be modified more and more, 
 until the college offers an avenue leading to, and 
 not away from, the paths of after-life. General 
 culture, "the humanities," a wider range of mental 
 vision and sympathy, are very fine things ; but 
 work in the world is for the most part neither 
 humane nor liberal, nor in any wise refined or 
 rarefied, but narrow and rough and hard. Our 
 time-honored plans of instruction appear to assume 
 that anybody can make a living, or a fortune if he 
 should need or care for it, much as Dogberry held 
 that reading and writing come by nature ; and one 
 position is about as well justified as the other. 
 
 You say I am preaching base materialism. Am 
 I responsible for the present state of things, for 
 Life as it is, and its hard laws ? It seems time 
 we began to face the facts and try to mend them,
 
 Cut Bono ? 47 
 
 by sending forth our rising generation our Mite 
 and elect youth, if you like fitted as well as may 
 be to claim and keep their own. Nobody else is 
 likely to look after them if they cannot do it for 
 themselves ; and it is a pity to see so many learned 
 titles strewn about the country, battered and rusty 
 because the owners have not wherewith to keep 
 them in repair.
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE SOCRATIC IDEA. 
 
 MY family being in business, and not ashamed 
 of it, I had more inkling of these facts, or princi- 
 ples call them which you prefer; we will not 
 quarrel about a term than Grafton could be 
 expected to possess ; though the bulk of such 
 usable wisdom as either of us ever acquired (or 
 any other fellow, for that matter) was laid in by 
 slow degrees long after taking our B.A. During 
 his junior year my friend, more through his own 
 reading than from class-room requirements, be- 
 came inthralled by the ancient philosophy, or what 
 he supposed to be its leading ideas. Not being 
 a German or a Scotchman, he had no very pro- 
 nounced taste for pure metaphysics ; but the moral 
 and rudimentary part of those notions, as outlined 
 in the fourth century and expounded by sym- 
 pathetic Occidentals, gripped him hard. I never 
 believed that the old masters themselves, with 
 some few exceptions, cared half as much for this 
 doxy as did their belated disciple ; for the Greek
 
 The Socratic Idea. 49) 
 
 mind, while vastly delighted with dialectical puz- 
 zles, had no bigoted attachment to questions of 
 faith and conscience. But poor Dick thought he 
 had found a rule for the conduct of life. He said 
 all the antique schools branched from the trunk of 
 Socrates, laying stress on whatever part of his 
 teaching they happened to like best, as all the 
 Christian sects did from Jesus. This, I suppose, 
 may have been so ; but it was not the main point. 
 He fell in love with the Socratic idea that the end 
 of man was to recognize Truth and be in harmony 
 with it ; to look things in the face, and call them 
 by their right names ; to respect facts, and order 
 his life according to them. When he burst upon 
 us with this discovery for, incredible as it may 
 appear, these pale abstractions had more charm for 
 him than a boat-race or a ball, and waked him to 
 new life we told him that was all simple and 
 obvious, and nothing to make a fuss about. 
 
 " But how many remember it, or live by it ? " he 
 cried. "To cast aside prejudice and passion and 
 self-interest, to look steadily at and care simply 
 for the Truth here's a chart to steer by ! Orig- 
 inal and absolute truth voiced and shadowed forth 
 in existing facts, in the phenomena of life ; why, 
 that makes heaven accessible, and gives us a noble 
 law at once for thought and action." 
 
 "See here, Dick," said I; "according to this, 
 whatever is is right. You'll not find it so not 
 by a jugfull. I know better."
 
 50 The Socratic Idea. 
 
 "You mustn't take it so narrowly," said he. 
 "It doesn't mean that your cutting so many 
 classes is right, or staying out so late nights ; but 
 the general concourse of events, the harmonies 
 of cause and effect, the ordinances of nature. 
 Rightly understood, these are a law to our minds, 
 a law of magnanimity and veracity and wisdom. 
 All events, characters, and thoughts are parts of 
 the whole, and we may learn from any source." 
 
 "That sounds transcendental," I said, "and I 
 don't believe it. Have you been to Concord 
 lately? Dick, if you go on like this, you'll get 
 to be a mere muddle-headed theorist." 
 
 " He's right, of course," Bardie shouted joy- 
 ously. " He wanted just this to rouse him. You 
 shut up, Tim." 
 
 " There's no harm in being a theorist so long as 
 you're not a dogmatist," said Dick. " Why, man, 
 how can you live without theories ? " 
 
 " You certainly can't live on 'em," I replied. 
 " That's the point ; you make a note of it." But 
 he would not heed ; with all his talk about being 
 open to truth, he would take it only in such shapes 
 as suited him. Ah, what green goslings we were 
 in those days, with our Ideals and Phenomena and 
 such ! Yet even I, though I was but a year or 
 two older, and the President (who was prejudiced 
 against me) might not think me the best guide for 
 my juniors, could have taught Dick a thing or two, 
 had he listened. At that time, alas ! he had no
 
 The Socratic Idea. 51 
 
 ears for any instructor less venerable than Socrates 
 and F. D. Maurice. The sins of the fathers are 
 visited upon the children, and the self-indulgences 
 of youth return to plague us in maturity. That 
 was a wise man who said that of all his sins those 
 of omission weighed heaviest on his accusing con- 
 science though I think he had committed arson 
 and several burglaries. If Grafton had done no 
 worse than amuse himself like the rest of us with 
 a moderate amount of drinking and gambling, he 
 might not have been so heavily punished after- 
 wards ; but when a fellow goes off mooning with 
 toploftical theories, and turns a deaf ear to prudent 
 counsels, what can he expect or what can his 
 friends expect for him?
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 MRS. MAGELLAN'S. 
 
 AFTER graduating, I was supposed to be closely 
 occupied learning the business in New York; but 
 I went to New Haven now and then, and per- 
 suaded Grafton to come to me at Christmas. 
 Here I strove to induct him into metropolitan 
 society and its canons. 
 
 " You go out too little, old man. It's not what 
 a man knows, so much as whom he knows, that 
 tells. You ought to be making acquaintances 
 that may be useful to you." 
 
 " I can't take that view, Bob. A man must 
 depend on his own exertions." 
 
 " Yes, but his own exertions may need backers. 
 If you make the right impression on the right 
 people, they can put things in your way, and 
 open various channels to your beneficent activity. 
 See?" . 
 
 " No, I don't. There's time enough for all that 
 yet. I've got my studies to attend to. And then 
 I know a lot of fellows."
 
 Mrs. Mage Hans. 53 
 
 " Much trouble you ever took to know them, 
 staying in your room and grubbing at your old 
 pagans. We live in the nineteenth century A.D., 
 man, not in the fourth B.C. Did you ever make 
 an effort to cultivate anybody that was worth 
 knowing, now ? " 
 
 " Why no, not especially. My friends usually 
 come to me. Affinity and taste regulate these 
 matters." 
 
 "You can't live on your tastes. There's Van 
 Snoozer, for instance. He feels grateful to you, 
 and would like to show it. He's not a bad fellow, 
 and with his wealth and influence " 
 
 " What do I want of his wealth and influence ? 
 He's not my sort ; he's too rich. You don't sup- 
 pose I would make a trade of friendship ? That 
 will do for Tufts." 
 
 " Do you remember what Tufts said about you 
 once ? Well, there was truth in it, though he put 
 it coarsely. You're far from a loafer, and you're 
 not a fool in the broad sense, but if you go on in 
 this way, people will think you are. You neglect 
 your opportunities, and you won't think of your 
 interests. I tell you, these things go for more 
 than scholarship and abstract ability and char- 
 acter. People don't care for the abstract : it's the 
 concrete that wins." 
 
 He looked disgusted. " Do you want me to be 
 a male Becky Sharp ? I should be ashamed to 
 look people in the face if I were thinking of what
 
 54 Mrs. Magellan's. 
 
 I could make by them. Relations must be free 
 and natural and spontaneous, or I don't want 
 them." 
 
 " What do you suppose people go into society 
 for, dear child ? " 
 
 "A few to study character and manners, or 
 brush up their wits by contact, and most to meet 
 their friends and enjoy themselves, I presume. 
 That's all right, though I don't care for it." 
 
 " They are like Mary's little lamb, eh ? Love 
 of their kind and pure aff ectionateness was that 
 your idea ? They go to secure or improve their 
 positions ; position is everything in this world, 
 and it involves relations with a lot of people. 
 There may be exceptions, but as a rule we're all 
 on the make, in one way or another." 
 
 " I don't like to hear you talk like this, Bob. It 
 seems to take all heart and soul out of life. You 
 are not so mercenary as you pretend, or you . 
 wouldn't care to have me about ; there is nothing 
 to be made out of me. I had better get back to 
 college." 
 
 " Not yet for a few days, sweet youth. You've 
 got to take in at least one crusher, and see the 
 world that lieth in wickedness." 
 
 The next night I took him to Mrs. Magellan's. 
 He was not altogether a hermit, but accustomed 
 to do his duty as a classman, some small part of 
 which was social. Thus he had several times 
 been obliged to entertain ladies at the hops, a
 
 Mrs. Magellan 's. 55 
 
 task requiring no vast intellectual outlay. If he 
 possessed but a moderate fund of small talk, he 
 could at least smile politely and look like a gentle- 
 man in his decent though not oppressively new 
 dress coat, which dated from early in his sopho- 
 more year ; and I did not fear his appearing awed 
 by so much splendor, or talking Greek philosophy 
 unawares. He had already met several persons, 
 and I introduced him to others who would know 
 how to handle him and not mind the trouble too 
 much ; besides, there was my sister to look after 
 him at need. He could dance in a way, and a 
 good-looking youth who has that merit can get on 
 well enough, as he seemed to do. On the way 
 home I asked him, 
 
 " Well, what do you think of it ? " 
 
 He answered in his usual placid and summa- 
 rizing way, " It was all right. Very well done, no 
 doubt ; very nice for those who like that kind of 
 thing." 
 
 " Several pegs above what we had at New 
 Haven, eh ? Yet you don't seem impressed by 
 it." 
 
 " Impressed ? No ; why should I be ? It was 
 simply one of the phenomena, and not so much in 
 my line as some others." 
 
 "O, hang up your phenomena. Weren't you 
 struck by any of the girls ? " 
 
 " They didn't carry clubs, that I saw. What 
 would I be struck for ? "
 
 56 Mrs. Magellan's. 
 
 " Well, fellows sometimes are. How is it that 
 you don't care for female loveliness ? " 
 
 " How is it that I don't care for race-horses, or 
 editions de luxe, or fancy farming, or the stock 
 market ? They are not in my line. It's just as 
 well that I have no expensive tastes, isn't it ? " 
 
 We had dropped into Delmonico's, and were 
 consuming some light refreshment. As my guest, 
 I wished him to see things that were beyond his 
 usual range ; but it is sometimes hard to know 
 what to say to such a fellow. 
 
 " Bob," he went on, " I had better get out of 
 this. You're very kind, but I don't care to play 
 the country mouse sponging on his city cousin 
 when he can't respond in kind. You see, it's all 
 so different ; I can't set up the champagne, nor 
 entertain you and others as you do me." 
 
 " Who expects it of you ? Are you putting 
 down in your mental accounts, ' To R. T., Dr., 
 one pint Mumm and one shrimp salad ' ? We 
 don't do things that way, my dear boy. Have 
 you been oppressed by our haughty state at the 
 house? I thought we were rather unpretentious 
 and homelike." 
 
 He blushed. " No ; you're all right. But it isn't 
 even ; it isn't fair. I felt as if I had no business 
 at Mrs. M.'s to-night." 
 
 "Because you're not triple-plated ? Did you 
 think you owed her a return blow-out ? The 
 gilding on some of those swells is pretty thin.
 
 Mrs. Magellan's. 57 
 
 You noticed Dacres and De Shyster ? They sleep 
 in little hall bedrooms on the fifth floor, dine at 
 cheap places on Sixth Avenue, and save their 
 pennies to come out strong on these occasions." 
 
 " I can put my pennies to a better use, prefer- 
 ring as I do a simpler life. There was that 
 dinner Van Snoozer gave us ; I tried to get out of 
 it, you know, but couldn't. He means well, but 
 these things leave me with an unpleasant sense of 
 obligation." 
 
 " That's all nonsense, I tell you. Your pride 
 will be the ruin of you ; put it in your pocket, and 
 take things as they come." 
 
 " I prefer to pay my own way, and live within 
 my income. However narrow that may be, a man 
 can at least preserve his self-respect. To do that, 
 he had better not mix too much with those who 
 are differently situated ; the fitness of things for- 
 bids it." 
 
 To this notion he stuck as Quixote to Rosi- 
 nante, nor could my arguments budge him from 
 his high horse.
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE DE GROUTS. 
 
 OF course I attended the next commencement, 
 where Grafton had the valedictory and went off 
 in a blaze of glory. He was a fair speaker, and 
 one of the best writers in his class ; not that what 
 they write there bears any relation to what is 
 wanted outside as he had the sense to know, 
 and had once acknowledged. His effort dealt 
 with the Relations of Thought to Life, and was 
 hugely applauded. Its ideas, as you might expect, 
 were wholly abstract, unfounded, and misleading, 
 but an audience will put up with any amount of 
 philosophical foolishness at such times. Tufts 
 had withdrawn long before (in fact, he had worked 
 his principles for more than they were worth, and 
 been caught cheating at cards, as well as at the 
 blackboard), so Dick had not an enemy in the 
 place. Now was his chance, if it had been any- 
 body else, to come into something good ; but his 
 high-toned obstinacy stood in the way, of course. 
 Van Snoozer, whose younger brother was wild,
 
 The De Grouts. 59 
 
 wanted Grafton to take the boy to Europe and 
 act as bear-leader for a while ; but Dick, suspect- 
 ing patronage in it, declined an offer which you 
 or I, in his circumstances, would have jumped at. 
 Harker, who had no more cash and less qualities 
 than our misguided friend, secured the berth, and 
 to that auspicious start in life owed his subsequent 
 fortunes : diligently cultivating the connection, 
 he married judiciously on the outer edge of the 
 charmed circle, set up as a stockbroker, got points 
 from Van's uncle, the railroad magnate, and was 
 rich before he was thirty. Dick never could have 
 done all that, I own ; and he had made up his mis- 
 judging mind to try the law. One or two of the 
 professors advised him to take pupils, and sent 
 him a few, for he was too proud to seek them. 
 This occupied his vacation, and his leisure through 
 part of the fall. 
 
 In the winter I induced him, much against his 
 will, to make me another visit. He was warmly 
 received by my people, and by others of the Yale 
 set, who knew of his high standing and blameless 
 record : solid old-fashioned men, who liked to see 
 the virtues of their youth repeated ; matrons who 
 admired pink cheeks, pure brows, and guileless 
 frankness in a boy, and were not apt to find them 
 in their own sons ; some young girls even, who 
 saw the halo of commencement yet about his head. 
 We dined with the De Grouts, who still display 
 the plate of their Huguenot ancestor, and some
 
 60 The De Grouts. 
 
 mahogany nearly as old ; but perhaps you will 
 kindly excuse me from describing the furniture. 
 As we sat solemnly over some extra regalias, the 
 head of the house thus accosted his principal 
 guest, who was not myself. 
 
 " My dear sir, it is not my custom to use many 
 words ; but I have not forgotten what you did for 
 my unhappy boy. If ever I can " 
 
 Here, with what seemed to me a gross breach 
 of his usual good manners, Dick hastened to in- 
 terrupt. " O, thank you ; but it was nothing 
 nothing at all." I kicked him under the table ; 
 why will he flout the goddess Fortune whenever 
 she tries to smile on him ? 
 
 " My son thinks differently ; but it is a pleasure 
 to meet, in this degenerate day, a young man who 
 is unwilling to discuss his own good deeds. You 
 will at least permit me to say that I appreciate 
 your influence on Clinton. That of our friend 
 Robert here might not have been equally benefi- 
 cial." And he looked at me rather grimly. 
 
 I knew I was asked there only on Dick's ac- 
 count ; but I answered loyally, " Well, sir, you 
 can't expect us all to be such paragons as Grafton. 
 He's a sort of lusus natures, he is. He can row a 
 fair oar, and catch a tolerable ball ; and yet he was 
 always well up near the head. He was class treas- 
 urer once, and I believe his accounts came out 
 straight, or very near it. He never got into any 
 scrapes or rows at all, which is unusual, sir, I
 
 Tlie De Grouts. 61 
 
 assure you. Quite popular with the boys, he was ; 
 and yet the faculty thought a heap of him." 
 
 " So I have heard," said the old gentleman, 
 smiling gravely, while Dick fidgeted on his chair, 
 and scowled at me. " By the way, Mr. Grafton, 
 your great-grandfather married into a branch of 
 my family then resident in Virginia, now, unhap- 
 pily, extinct. Yes, your great-grandmother was a 
 second cousin once removed of my grandfather's 
 half-brother Hugh, who was killed at Eutaw, as 
 you may remember ; there hangs his sword. She 
 was a reigning beauty in her day. We are among 
 the few New Yorkers, my dear sir, who are not 
 indifferent to the past." And they went off into 
 the depths of a genealogical discussion, while I 
 escaped to the parlor. Madame and her hand- 
 some daughter received me civilly, but looked as 
 if they would rather see the beneficent and irre- 
 proachable Dick. 
 
 "Well," I asked later that night, "did you pass 
 examination on the battle of Eutaw ? At least 
 you remember your great-grandmother's beauty?" 
 
 He did not seem to see the joke. " My an- 
 cestors may not have left me much, but I keep 
 their pedigree if not their acres. I enjoyed Mr. 
 De Grout's conversation." 
 
 " A good thing you did ; I don't grudge it to 
 you. What was that about the son ? You never 
 told me of that." 
 
 " It wouldn't interest you, as you knew the boy
 
 62 The De Grouts. 
 
 but slightly. He was a soph then, and inclined to 
 be fast. He got into a scrape, and I happened to 
 be near by ; I had coached him once or twice. 
 The particulars are of no account." 
 
 " No, I suppose not. And after that you played 
 Rhadamanthus and Boanerges, made him see the 
 error of his ways, and snatched him as a brand from 
 the burning. Yes, you could do that better than 
 I, as the old gentleman said." 
 
 " He was behind with his work had to stay 
 half the summer, and I was asked to coach him 
 again, as a matter of business this time. They 
 paid for the lessons ; I didn't like it altogether. 
 It seemed as if I ought not to be dining there to- 
 day, having been in their employ." 
 
 "Bright idea that, Richard. When we go to 
 Washington, and call on the President, no doubt 
 he'll be ashamed to shake hands with us, being in 
 our pay." 
 
 " Well, you can exaggerate, and you can laugh, 
 Bob ; but I feel as if I had derogated from my 
 dignity, and lost caste." 
 
 "You'll have to go on derogating and losing 
 unless you marry an heiress soon. Are you a 
 feudal baron, or an American democrat? There 
 was a doctor once who felt as you do, and never 
 could bring himself to take a fee. The people 
 were so grateful that they elected him to a public 
 maintenance in the prytaneum which was in his 
 case the poorhouse."
 
 The De Grouts. 63 
 
 "I dare say it's absurd, Bob, and of course I 
 have to support myself ; but I would rather do it 
 among strangers. The De Grouts paid me near 
 fifty dollars last summer; it was almost the first 
 money I ever earned." 
 
 " Well, you did earn it, I judge, and they can 
 afford it." 
 
 "Yes; but this mixing business with social 
 relations doesn't seem right. When they received 
 me almost as a friend, I felt that I was in a false 
 position." 
 
 " Babe of the woods, your position in that house 
 or what you could make it in a week, if you 
 chose would be envied by half the men about 
 town. I wouldn't mind taking it myself, if it 
 were transferable. You've struck oil, my son, 
 and struck it rich." 
 
 He stared at me. " I don't understand. What 
 do you mean ?" 
 
 " The father, for all his quaint ways, is one of 
 our leading men. The mother can do what she 
 pleases socially. In a quiet way they are cream of 
 the cream ; didn't you know that ? I tell you, that 
 invitation was an honor, and I was in it only per- 
 force and on sufferance ; they are particular to the 
 last degree. Not only do they feel indebted to 
 you, but they approve of you, and like you ; tastes 
 vary. The boy is evidently attached to you I 
 suppose he has reason ; and the others are inclined 
 to follow suit ; their domestic feelings are strong.
 
 64 The De Grouts. 
 
 There are but the two children, Clint and Miss 
 Edith. She is just out, and said to be a very 
 superior young person. By the way, what do you 
 think of her looks ? " 
 
 " I scarcely noticed or not especially." 
 
 "You didn't? Where were your eyes, man? 
 Hers are better; she noticed you, I am able to 
 inform you. Didn't you meet her last commence- 
 ment ? " 
 
 "Yes, and danced with her, I believe. O 
 yes, her brother introduced me ; but there were 
 so many others. All that is a matter of form." 
 
 " It is, eh ? Your fine mind was on Plato and 
 Confucius, probably. If I had been your father 
 and had you in hand early enough, I would have 
 interviewed you in the woodshed about twice a 
 day till you learned to keep your eyes open." 
 
 "I am unobservant at times, perhaps. But 
 what are you so excited about?" 
 
 "About your innate depravity. Why, Bartim- 
 aeus, that girl is counted the fairest of this season's 
 buds. She has been beautifully brought up, and 
 is said to be at once amiable and spirited. She'll 
 come into about two millions, D. V., and mean- 
 time she has a hundred and fifty thousand of her 
 own from an aunt who died four years ago." 
 
 He looked rather bored. "Well, what of it ? " 
 
 " What of it ? Excuse me ; profanity is against 
 my principles, and ordinary language fails to meet 
 an occasion like this. Ought you not to take a
 
 The De Grouts. 65 
 
 primary course in social economy ? They have 
 them now, and I presume you can get one at 
 Yale." 
 
 " I'm not sure I understand you, Bob ; I hope I 
 don't. If you mean that it is considered the cor- 
 rect thing in your circle to make up to a lady in 
 cold blood because she has money, I must beg to 
 remain outside it." He spoke with dignity, but 
 with an undertone of feeling; he actually looked 
 shocked, as if I had said something immodest. 
 
 I hastened to pacify him. " Don't mistake me, 
 Dick. I quite agree with you. I am the last 
 man to defend, not to say recommend, mercenary 
 unions ; couldn't do such a thing myself if my 
 salvation depended on it. But there is some sense 
 in the old Quaker's advice, ' My son, don't thee 
 marry for money, but go where money is.' Why 
 should you object to people because they happen 
 to be well off, if they are otherwise unobjection- 
 able ? I've already tried to show you the impor- 
 tance of associating with the right sort. We've 
 got nothing better than the De Grouts, and you 
 have lots of things in common with them, blue 
 blood, and high notions, and cultivation, and all 
 that. A studious chap like you needs feminine 
 society : any of the moralists will tell you so. 
 Miss Edith likes you, and so does her mother ; 
 and they don't take to everybody far from it. 
 And now you're prejudiced against the poor girl 
 because her aunt died and left her a trifle. I ask 
 you, is that fair ? is it manly ? is it generous ? "
 
 66 The De Grouts. 
 
 "I'm prejudiced against fortune-hunting, and 
 the odious motives you seemed to suggest. That 
 apart, we went over this ground last year. No 
 doubt your friends are very worthy people, but " 
 
 "They're not my friends ; they're yours, or they 
 wish to be. Why not let them ? Meet them half 
 way ; give them a trial." 
 
 " I can't meet them on equal terms. Best leave 
 me to my own, Bob." 
 
 "Perhaps I will, if you'll tell me what your 
 own may be. Not relations, for you have none. 
 Not your old classmates, for they are scattered. 
 Hardly even your den at New Haven, for you 
 must soon leave it to go out into the cold world. 
 I wanted you to start fair, under decent auspices ; 
 and here you are taken into the arms of an excel- 
 lent man who admired your great-grandmother. 
 There's a providence in it. Have you no filial 
 feeling?" 
 
 But all he would do was to make a single call at 
 De Grout's, where a cordial reception had little 
 visible effect on his stoicism.
 
 BOOK SECOND. 
 
 TACKVILLE AND MILETUS.
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 WESTWARD HO. 
 
 HAD Dick played his cards properly, he might 
 have secured in time a tutorship at Alma Mater. 
 That is no towering height of greatness, but it 
 would have kept him in the scholastic seclusion 
 which seemed his native air ; so placed, he could 
 have gone on spinning his beloved theories, and 
 shunned the loathsome contact of practicality. 
 Or, had he been less unlike others, he might have 
 found some sort of position in the metropolis, 
 with a few influential friends to stand by him, 
 protect him from bunco-steerers and confidence 
 sharps, and see to his advancement as soon as he 
 had learned the A B C of useful accomplishments 
 and business life. Van Snoozer, though justly 
 incensed at his refusal to take the dancing-bear 
 contract a year before, still felt that something 
 ought to be done for him, and would have recom- 
 mended him as private secretary to the golden 
 uncle ; but then, as Van remarked, Grafton was so 
 blanked unmanageable, he might not understand
 
 70 Westward Ho. 
 
 the exigencies of such a post, and the implicit 
 deference due to a somewhat imperious twenty- 
 millionnaire. Mr. De Grout, I always believed, 
 would have treated Dick like a son, and found an 
 innings for him somewhere in the circle of his 
 extended operations, had he been given the 
 opportunity. 
 
 But the object of all this unavailing good-will 
 adhered to his wild idea of beginning the battle at 
 a distance, that those who had known him while 
 spending his modest inheritance like a gentleman 
 might not witness the degradation of efforts to 
 earn his bread and cheese, nor his pride be hurt by 
 taking a dollar, for whatever service, from a famil- 
 iar hand. The dwindling of his resources was 
 like the dying out of his race ; by rights, he should 
 have changed his name, as well as his habitat, 
 when he began to work for pay. Commonly the 
 frankest of men, on this topic his lips were sealed ; 
 he would tell no friend his situation, lest he should 
 be affronted with the offer of a loan. His wilful 
 thoughts turned westward, echoing the dubious 
 advice of Mr. Greeley ; there men were fewer to 
 the square rod, and there another year might fin- 
 ish his legal course. This saving of time was 
 important, for his finances with straitest economy 
 would hardly last beyond a twelvemonth more. 
 So he turned his face to the Mississippi, with little 
 more thought of the future or sense of adult re- 
 sponsibility than when he had abandoned his child-
 
 Westward Ho. 71 
 
 hood's home five years before. No eager hope 
 lured him on, no heavy fear deterred him ; to bor- 
 row trouble, or anticipate Eldorados, was not his 
 way. A change had to be made, and this seemed 
 to him the correct way to make it. It might be 
 as it proved the great mistake of a life made up 
 of blunders ; but his uncalculating mind, as yet 
 unawakened to the value of tangible questions 
 and impotent to deal with them, saw no other 
 road open, and committed his fortunes to the ele- 
 ments with careless trust. Had it been an affair 
 of verities, of that metaphysic gardening which 
 cares not for raising fruit, he would have given his 
 best powers to its consideration ; but so long as it 
 concerned merely such trivial carnalities as where 
 he should go and what he should do, what mat- 
 tered it, so long as he went out of reach of patron- 
 age and help ? 
 
 The remote law school offered little that was 
 more memorable than his trip thither. By one so 
 introspectively absorbed the break from old asso- 
 ciations was not greatly felt, nor any longing for 
 new ties. His diligent application soon bridged 
 whatever gap there might be between the point 
 at which his studies had arrived and that the 
 graduating class were supposed to have reached. 
 Without active effort in that direction, he won the 
 favor of professors and measurably of his compan- 
 ions. A winter course of lectures admitted him 
 to the bar, and then his shingle was put up in a
 
 72 Westward Ho. 
 
 town to which casual advice and acquaintanceship 
 directed his listless steps. 
 
 For a time his letters were tolerably cheerful ; 
 but they dwelt rather on the inexpensiveness of 
 living than on any rapid professional advancement. 
 He seemed to be taking notes after his manner. 
 The people were unpretentious, their manners 
 democratic, he said ; he rather liked that, it was 
 so American. Nobody was rich, judged by East- 
 ern standards ; all had begun humbly like himself, 
 and the few who had risen highest retained the 
 simple habits of their earlier days. Every one 
 worked, and there need be no embarrassment 
 about his pocketing any fees that might come ; it 
 was no unusual thing for the daughters even of 
 the comparatively wealthy to accept a position 
 behind the counter or at the telegraph wires. 
 Thus the Dignity of Labor was appreciated, and a 
 little money would go a long way where all were 
 economists, and no allowance made for fashion 
 and nabob pride. Nor was the spirit of the place 
 wholly materialistic ; societies flourished for the 
 promotion of literature and art, or of the interest 
 of the members therein. " Not that they know 
 much about these," he admitted, "but they evince 
 a creditable desire to learn." The country was 
 sufficiently settled, and had been more or less so 
 for some decades ; not only buffaloes but prairie 
 chickens were things of the past, and emigrants 
 were moving to "the West." Society had out-
 
 Westward Ho. 73 
 
 grown border rudeness ; the condition depicted in 
 certain works (some of them more recent than 
 this period, but I may draw on subsequent litera- 
 ture to eke out the impressions received from 
 my friend's epistles) of Messrs. Twain, Eggleston, 
 and Howe belogned to a region further south, or 
 to a time long past. It was said to be a fine farm- 
 ing country, but this was not in his line, and I 
 would be more interested to know that the fishing 
 was of a superior character. 
 
 As months rolled by, these communications 
 became more vague and, as I thought, less en- 
 couraging in tone. When he had been "in prac- 
 tice " about a year and a half it was not easy to 
 connect the idea of practice with poor old Dick 
 business took me to Chicago and St. Louis, and I 
 went out of my way to see for myself how he was 
 progressing, or to spy out the nakedness of the 
 land. 
 
 I would willingly describe the approaches to 
 Tackville, but there can be little to tell where 
 there is nothing to see. A painter would have to 
 go far for subjects, for the only variation was from 
 flat to "rolling" prairie, and the roll in the latter 
 case was very mild. Never a rock, and rarely a 
 tree except upon the streams and in the villages, 
 which are usually called cities. One does not get 
 from car windows a favorable view of these busy 
 haunts, and a single sample, I thought, would 
 probably be enough. The dreariness of the iso-
 
 74 Westward Ho. 
 
 lated farmhouses oppressed me ; rude, meagre, 
 and generally unpainted, like the shanties of Pad- 
 dies and Kanucks near our northern boundary, but 
 with all picturesque surroundings eliminated 
 what must it be to live in them ! At a certain 
 junction I had to wait two mortal hours, for 
 trains run long distances, are often behind time, 
 and usually fail to connect. There were few pas- 
 sengers, and my reading matter had given out. I 
 paced the platform and inspected the settlement : 
 three habitations, the inevitable grocery and 
 blacksmith shop, and a wretched saloon, ambi- 
 tiously but uncertainly labelled " St. Nichols 
 Hotel." I turned to the prairie, ten miles of 
 bleak unbroken flatness under a sombre sky ; no 
 tints, no foliage, hardly a sign of life. 
 
 " Pretty dashed poor country," said a drummer 
 at my elbow; "too poor to support a decent road." 
 
 "It must be exceptional just here," I ventured. 
 " The state is prosperous and growing, isn't it ? " 
 
 "O yes ; this is rather worse than usual. Raises 
 a lot of corn and wheat, and shows civilization in 
 the river towns. The inland places are mostly 
 mere centres of a little country trade, and pretty 
 blanked mean to stop in over night, some of 'em. 
 Why, sir, I've struck cities around here that 
 might be in Vermont reached their high-water 
 mark, and going down hill ; less of 'em now than 
 there was five years ago. What line did you say 
 you were in?"
 
 Westward Ho. 75 
 
 The rest of the journey was not so bad ; but 
 where was that mellow richness one sees any- 
 where in the East that air of being not only 
 inhabited, but lived in ? There, men have made 
 homes in country as well as town and better, 
 some think ; here, nature has supplied only fields, 
 and human nature seems to have done nothing but 
 work them. But tastes differ; we cannot all live 
 in New York or Boston, and for those who like 
 this region, I suppose, as Artemus says, it is a 
 kind of region they will like.
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 LAW AT TACKVILLE. 
 
 DICK was waiting at the station ; but for the 
 smile of welcome in his eyes I should not have 
 known him at first, for he had grown a beard. I 
 told him I preferred to walk and see the town ; he 
 said it was not much to see, but we could take it 
 in before supper, and send my bag by the 'bus. 
 So he marshalled me through the principal 
 streets, and pointed out the abodes of such wealth, 
 fashion, beauty, and learning as the place con- 
 tained. It might not be much, but it was a vast 
 improvement on the country ; the saying about 
 the respective makers of these two does not al- 
 ways apply. It was a relief to see trees, and 
 decent houses, some of them standing back from 
 the street, and two or three with an attempt at 
 lawns and shrubbery. 
 
 "This is our West End," he said. "The busi- 
 ness portion is not so remarkable ; hardly equal 
 to Broadway, in fact."
 
 Law at Tackville. 77 
 
 "Is it true," I asked, "that the percentage of 
 insanity is unusually high in this state ? " 
 
 " Yes. The farmers came here young, with no 
 money or but a few hundreds each. They had to 
 borrow to get stock and implements. Then a bad 
 season, or a plague of grasshoppers, would ruin 
 them ; they couldn't pay their interest, and the 
 mortgages would be foreclosed. The fear of this, 
 and the anxious effort to avoid it, sent them to 
 the asylums in shoals." 
 
 " Their game wasn't worth the candle, I should 
 say." 
 
 " They thought it might be ; hope springs eter- 
 nal, you know. They took their chances like the 
 rest of us. But that's not all. You've been over 
 a good deal of ground to-day ; you noticed the 
 aspect of things ? Well, the farmer's wife sits all 
 day in one of those attractive homelike edifices, 
 while her husband is out in the fields ; nothing 
 to look at, nobody to talk to, for neighbors are 
 few and far between. The lonesome life, and her 
 share of the anxiety, send her too to the asylum. 
 The state is well provided in that way." 
 
 " A cheerful prospect ; but you're better off 
 here in town, surely ? " 
 
 " O yes. We live off the farmers ; sell them 
 tools and sugar and calico, and then foreclose 
 their mortgages and send them to the asylum." 
 
 "This is unpatriotic, Dick. But at least you 
 individually are growing practical ; taking an in-
 
 78 Law at Tackville. 
 
 terest in the humble pursuits and fortunes of your 
 neighbors." 
 
 "O yes: you have to, out here. But this is 
 the tavern, and supper will be ready." 
 
 When that not too elaborate repast was ended, 
 I inspected my companion more closely. " Old 
 man," I said, "you're changed. You look older." 
 
 "Naturally; it's over two years since we last 
 met. Then the transition from boy to man goes 
 for something, and from the Atlantic coast to the 
 prairies. I've missed the refining influences, you 
 see ; you may expect to find me deteriorated." 
 
 " If you mean you've grown less visionary, I'm 
 glad to hear it. How is Lady Law ? " 
 
 " Only so-so to middling. Law out here, Bob, 
 is merely business. Nobody cares for the science 
 of it, and it is not so much a profession as a trade, 
 whereby to command a little cash, as one might 
 at carpentry or hardware. You saw those men 
 at the next table ; where would you place them ? " 
 
 " Freight conductors, I should say, or bar- 
 keepers. No? Possibly tinsmiths ?" 
 
 " Three of them are my learned colleagues ; 
 getting on, too. One of them is aiming at the 
 legislature. That's the way of it ; education is 
 not required. They take a great deal of pains 
 with the public schools, and the state proudly 
 cherishes thirteen alleged universities ; but attend- 
 ance at any of these is optional. A boy may pass 
 from the plough's tail to the village store, and
 
 Law at Tackville. 79 
 
 thence, if he is sharp, to the law school, where 
 about ten months, or two winter courses, qualify 
 him to shine at the bar. Nobody thinks the worse 
 of him for not having been to college ; to go or 
 not to go is a question for inclination or circum- 
 stances to decide, and discrimination would be un- 
 democratic. Nor does it make so much difference, 
 as far as manners and appearance go. A necktie 
 is not de rigcur in classroom, and pantaloons may 
 be worn inside tKe boots, though that is not so 
 customary. Some of the professors you might 
 take for machinists, but they all are posted in 
 their departments. I saw something of the col- 
 lege while I was finishing my law at Hector ; it 
 stands as well as most state concerns, after 
 Michigan of course. The brighter fellows aim at 
 teaching or politics ; the course is regarded as an 
 instrument, a means to an end, not as an intel- 
 lectual necessity. That's all right, I presume, or 
 you ought to think it so. You see, in a new and 
 mainly poor community things are necessarily 
 different from what you've been used to ; and 
 it's to their credit to think as much of education 
 as they do." 
 
 " No doubt. But you were telling me about the 
 lawyers." 
 
 " Strange that I could digress from so inspiring 
 a theme. Well, there are gentlemen among them 
 in the effete eastern sense of the word ; we're 
 all gentlemen here, so long as we keep out of jail
 
 8o Law at Tackville. 
 
 and a few scholars, in the larger towns. And 
 two of those you saw are good fellows in their 
 way. But some of the older men are mere petti- 
 foggers of a low type. Oh, I know you have 
 such in New York, but scarcely at the head of the 
 local bar. You should hear them abuse each other 
 in court by the hour, as if their clients and their 
 cases were nothing beside their personalities. In 
 pure impudence they could give a lesson to your 
 shysters at home. To see them with their judi- 
 cial air on, their huge assumption of wisdom and 
 power and importance, their lofty contempt for 
 whoever is on the other side, is a study. I often 
 wonder whether all this conceit is genuine, or 
 merely put on for effect. Probably the latter ; if 
 they were idiots enough to take themselves at 
 their own pretended valuation, they could hardly 
 impose on anybody else. As it is, one or two of 
 them make as much as twelve hundred a year by 
 their humbug. I'm speaking of a certain class, 
 mind ; not of all." 
 
 " Not of yourself, certainly, for you're one of 
 them. I fear you've been disappointed in the 
 results of this move, Dick." 
 
 "Not greatly; blessed is he that expecteth 
 nothing. I've learned to heed some of your 
 advice, and take things as they come." 
 
 "Does it pay you? Financially, I mean." 
 
 "My office-rent, and mostly my board. No, I 
 don't want any money, thank you ; the rest I eke
 
 Law at Tackville. 81 
 
 out by copying papers. If I can't live by law, I 
 can try something else. But there's time for all 
 this yet." 
 
 He looked at his watch. "It might be pleas- 
 anter to stay here and talk, but I promised to 
 take you to a party at Mrs. Claybank's. We're 
 very hospitable here ; I tried to get off on the 
 plea that you were coming, but she would not 
 forgive me if you were not there too, and so on. 
 Distinguished strangers don't arrive every day. 
 Prepare for a flutter in sundry female breasts." 
 
 " Glad you've got to be a society man, Richard. 
 Who's Mrs. Claybank ? " 
 
 " The leading lady of our small local drama. 
 Lives in the biggest of those houses you saw ; 
 husband one of our foremost merchants. She is 
 a very active person, socially, ecclesiastically, phil- 
 anthropically, every way ; president of this and 
 secretary of that ; gets up most of the circles 
 and art clubs, and to some extent runs the town. 
 Very good woman in her way." 
 
 " I can't do it, Dick. Sorry, but haven't a dress- 
 coat along." 
 
 "That garment is allowed in Hector and the 
 larger towns, but is taboo here. I wore mine once, 
 but found it attracted too much attention, and 
 caused me to be regarded as a haughty and obtru- 
 sive worldling, which is not my character, as you 
 are aware. The ladies dress, but not the men ; 
 that is, clean collars are expected, and cuffs dis-
 
 82 Law at Tackville. 
 
 played by those who are particular. We can go 
 as we are, or, if you want to be stylish, in dark 
 frocks." 
 
 "Any dancing ? What sort of girls ? " 
 
 "An estimable sort, versed in the useful and 
 the ornamental both ; see and judge for yourself. 
 Square dances, and figures called at every change. 
 No round ; it's a religious house, though liberal, as 
 you will hear." 
 
 " I'm in your hands ; but hadn't you better give 
 me some more pointers ? " 
 
 " That's unnecessary ; only don't talk too much, 
 and bewilder our damsels with too many scintilla- 
 tions of New York wit, or expect them to under- 
 stand the latest gags. This is a simple and some- 
 what Puritan community. Let Mrs. Claybank talk 
 to you ; she'll save my explaining sundry matters. 
 You're on a tour of observation ; you'll find her 
 instructive."
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 MRS. CLAYBANK. 
 
 OUR hostess, a lady of commanding presence 
 and alert air, a trifle floridly attired, received us 
 warmly. " So pleased to meet any friend of Mr, 
 Grafton's, and especially a gentleman fresh from 
 the gilded saloons of the metropolis." 
 
 Somewhat alarmed, I hastened to assure her 
 that I knew of the gilding in those resorts only 
 by hearsay ; had Grafton been misrepresenting my 
 habits ? 
 
 " O no ; you mistake my meaning. But we 
 hear so much of the gorgeous East, which showers 
 pearls and gold on its inhabitants, as the poet 
 says ; and yet I see you wear very little jewelry. 
 Not that I am unfamiliar with the East myself; I 
 have relatives in Indiana, and have visited in Cin- 
 cinnati. But we too have our own local pride. 
 We may be recent, but the future belongs to us, 
 the vast prairies, the well-nigh illimitable expanse, 
 the boundless agricultural resources ! Really, you 
 Easterners are to be pitied, hemmed up in a nar-
 
 84 Mrs. Claybank. 
 
 row space, with your stony fields, your barren 
 mountains, and your narrow and tyrannous restric- 
 tions. Society is very stiff with you, is it not all 
 etiquette and conventionality ? Now, don't imag- 
 ine for one moment that I would reflect on your 
 own manners, which are excellent, I am sure ; one 
 might think you had been brought up among us. 
 But I am told that in your parts objections are 
 made to a lady's earning her own living, and that 
 people are actually ashamed of -the shop by which 
 they rose. With us, Thought is free, unfettered as 
 the eagle's flight ; though we are all orthodox, 
 oh yes. There is indeed a struggling Universalist 
 society on River Street, but they can't support a 
 minister a poor affair. O no, we do not look 
 down on them ; they too are human, as Stuart 
 Mill says. But we are mostly Congregationalists, 
 Methodists, or Baptists. We live in perfect har- 
 mony ; all religions are welcome here, even Jews 
 and Catholics, though we see little of them. The 
 Presbyterians are so bigoted, and the Lutherans 
 ah, well, so Teutonic, and one may say un- 
 refined. Yes, there are a few Episcopalians ; very 
 worthy persons, but too liturgical, not to say papist- 
 ical ; and, only think of it, their minister doesn't 
 exchange with ours : so narrow ! Your own views, 
 Mr. Tinsel? Tolerant, liberal? Ah yes. I am 
 so glad, in one coming from the East. We are all 
 liberal here ; at least we ought to be, with our 
 advantages, and that is the prevalent opinion.
 
 Mrs. Clay bank. 85 
 
 Your first visit ? It will not be your last, I pre- 
 dict. You have so much to see, to learn. If you 
 stay here a month or two, Mr. Timmens, you will 
 never be willing to return to the East not to 
 reside there. You will become so attached to 
 our ways ; rooted to the soil, I may say. It is 
 the universal experience. Those who have once 
 breathed our free and bracing air, and been accli- 
 mated, so to speak, can no longer endure the 
 crowded existence, the belittling routine, the effete 
 traditions, of the older States." 
 
 The lady's eyes were flashing with what Mr. 
 Gilbert calls superior gleam, when her disclosures 
 were strangely interrupted. An elderly being of 
 unadorned appearance, with a rough gray coat, a 
 sprawling collar, and a blue and pink tie, had been 
 hovering near. A rustic grin now overspread his 
 countenance ; he thrust forth a huge and horny 
 paw, and poked my entertainer violently in the 
 ribs or thus I would express it had the victim 
 been a man ; as it was, let us say he indented her 
 corsage. " Don't ye run the young feller too hard, 
 Melindy ; let him down easy, now." Then to me, 
 benevolently, " Ye mustn't mind her ; it's only a 
 way she has. She don't mean no harm." 
 
 I had been meditating the propriety of defence 
 and rescue ; but my hostess smiled tolerantly, 
 introduced the assailant as her uncle Jacob, and 
 sent him off to talk to a female of lonesome, not 
 to say grewsome, appearance, stranded in a corner.
 
 86 Mrs. Claybank. 
 
 Then she took my arm, smoothed her rumpled 
 plumage with the left hand, and marched me in 
 another direction. 
 
 " A most excellent man, Mr. Tims, and highly 
 respected. Plain and unassuming ; but we are 
 all plain people here. Not ashamed of our origin 
 as why should we be ? An honest man and a 
 free self-respecting American is the noblest work 
 of God. We have no kings and dukes here, 
 thank Heaven ; and so we make no idle preten- 
 sions to be what we are not. You easterners 
 are not always very good Americans : you should 
 come to us to learn to prize your birthright. I 
 must present you to some of our belles ; but first 
 I want to talk to you about Mr. Grafton. There 
 is a touch-me-not air about him, as if he had 
 been a prince of the blood and cradled in luxury. 
 Were his family anything very great ? " 
 
 "They are dead now," I replied; "peace to 
 their ashes. They lived on the eastern shore of 
 Maryland from time immemorial, you know, but 
 the war and what not reduced them, I suppose ; 
 so he had to make a new start. But he's a fine 
 fellow, true as steel and good as gold." 
 
 " O, I see ; worn-out southern aristocracy. 
 But that ought not to be counted against him, 
 poor man. What is birth ? I was born in a dug- 
 out and raised in a one-roomed log cabin. My 
 father carted his corn when he had any with 
 a mule and a cow, and I was proud to go along
 
 Mrs. Claybank. 87 
 
 with a basket of eggs. I went barefooted till I 
 was fifteen ; and yet my husband praises my 
 complexion. That is Americanism, Mr. Timlow. 
 But we must not despise those who have been 
 differently raised. No one can say that I have 
 not always appreciated Mr. Grafton's qualities; 
 that pure classic brow, that winning manner. But 
 do you think he is very practical ? " 
 
 " Possibly not ; but I hope your free and bra- 
 cing air, and the example of your noble and vig- 
 orous democracy, may make him so. He needs 
 stimulating influences." 
 
 The lady stiffened visibly. " Don't let Mr. 
 Claybank hear you say that ; he abhors alcohol 
 in every form. Your friend will get neither stim- 
 ulants nor political sympathy here, with my con- 
 sent. Democrats indeed ! Why, we are all 
 Republicans, of course. I am not prejudiced, not 
 the least ; but what is there on the other side but 
 Irishmen, rumsellers, and rebels ? You said you 
 were liberal, Mr. Tipton ; and I always thought 
 Mr. Grafton's habits were correct." 
 
 Her tones were full of reproach, indignation, 
 and disappointment. I hastened to explain ; a 
 task of some difficulty, but at length happily ac- 
 complished. 
 
 " O well, as you assure me that he is not a 
 rebel, he was wise to come here, of course. But 
 I sometimes think he lacks animation, energy, 
 ambition decision of character, almost."
 
 88 Mrs. Claybank. 
 
 "Not that, my dear madam ; only direction." 
 
 " He's not easily directed either. He wouldn't 
 teach in Sabbath-school when I asked him ; and 
 he appears indifferent to our young ladies. One 
 might almost fancy he held himself above us 
 though that is hardly possible." 
 
 "Certainly not: he has too much sense, and 
 is not what some would call ' stuck up ' at all. 
 You see, I've known him from a boy. His pride 
 is of the sensitive kind, harmless unless to its 
 owner. He never cared for girls ; that is a grave 
 fault, I 'own. But he looks up to you." 
 
 " No doubt. I have tried to be a mother to 
 him ; I will continue to try. Poor Mr. Grafton, 
 he needs it, as you say. His own mother must 
 have been a shiftless, incompetent person : those 
 southern women generally are. And he never 
 had a sister. Well, Mr. Timothy, you are not 
 indifferent to young ladies, I trust ? We have 
 some lovely ones : in fact, they are all lovely. 
 You must come to our sociable and our prayer- 
 meeting the Congregational, of course. And 
 wouldn't you like to lecture before the art club ? 
 No ? Well then, the literary circle. It is almost 
 wholly composed of ladies ; the gentlemen are 
 too busy to attend. We have gone over nearly 
 all the poets; Milton is the next subject. But 
 we would be charmed to hear you on any topic. 
 No formality, you know." 
 
 Presently Dick came up with a Major Way.
 
 Mrs. Claybank. 89 
 
 "This is our great fisherman, Bob. He'll take us 
 up stream to-morrow, if you say so, and show you 
 more bass than you ever saw." We had barely 
 made an appointment, when Mrs. Claybank car- 
 ried me off to her bevy of attendant maidens, 
 whose varying charms I need not inventory here.
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 NATURE AND HUMAN NATURE. 
 
 IT was hardly past midnight when we reached 
 Dick's office, an upstairs room in a corner build- 
 ing. " You see our humble efforts at festivity 
 are small and early," said he. " Do you want 
 to sit up and talk, or are you tired ? Not from 
 the dissipation, but your journey." 
 
 " O no ! There's not so much to see that I 
 need be fatigued by it. Your scenery is not what 
 you can call overpowering." 
 
 " That's our weak point. In the East you 
 can fall back on Nature when you are tired of 
 men, and she has something to say to you. Here 
 we have nothing except the river : I prize that 
 as a relief. It's not merely the water, but the 
 land keeps such beauty as she has 'for the banks. 
 We'll take the day to it, if you like. Will a cold 
 lunch content you?" 
 
 " Surely, if there's any sport. But can you 
 spare the whole day ? " 
 
 " O, business is not so pressing ; I often do it,
 
 Nature and Human Nature. 91 
 
 Then Way is worth knowing ; more companion- 
 able than most. He fought through the war, 
 and came out of it with broken health ; has his 
 pension, some property, and a nominal business, 
 but really represents the leisure class, which is 
 rare in these parts. He goes off in winter, and 
 when here spends most of his time on the river. 
 It's a wise choice, for the river is the best thing 
 about here. Fishing is his passion, and we get 
 the benefit of his skill and tackle." 
 
 " Good. But we were to discuss your social 
 phenomena. Who's that Miss Edwards ? " 
 
 " I thought you'd notice her. She's a Yankee, 
 one of the numerous descendants of Jonathan ; 
 teaches in the schools, and helps support a wid- 
 owed mother ; would rather do it at home if she 
 could, I fancy. O, there are a few eastern 
 people here ; but most of them are to the manner 
 born, or come from not far across the Mississippi. 
 They think this section is the world's garden and 
 granary and treasure-house, and much beyond 
 the rest of the Union. I suppose you heard all 
 that ? " 
 
 " O, yes ! Mrs. Claybank is a four-horse team. 
 But I say, is it usual for gentlemen to punch 
 ladies in the side before a promiscuous assem- 
 blage, or is it merely a privilege of relationship ? " 
 
 " The patriarchs do it to any one, even on a first 
 meeting, if they feel' friendly enough. At least 
 Uncle Jacob does ; he's a cordial old soul. Nobody
 
 92 Nature and Human Nature. 
 
 takes it amiss from him ; but it's not expected of 
 us, so you needn't practise it as a new accomplish- 
 ment. Well, as you used to ask me when you 
 had taken me out in New York, what are your 
 impressions ? " 
 
 " Mixed, like the company. We could hardly 
 duplicate the hostess in Gotham. But do you 
 think her guests, taken all in all, are any improve- 
 ment on Mrs. Magellan's ? " 
 
 "They are not so far removed from primitive 
 nature, if that's any recommendation. I'm not 
 sure it is." 
 
 "You're not much more of a ladies' man than 
 you were, after all. Mrs. Claybank intimates that 
 the girl of the locality is not to your taste. You 
 don't find them more attractive than Miss De 
 Grout, then ? " 
 
 " I didn't come here for society, Bob. Of 
 course that is like the scenery ; with rare excep- 
 tions, flat. This is not the place to study char- 
 acter : you've already seen the best of our 
 eccentricities, except my neighbor in the next 
 room ; and assuredly you wouldn't come here for 
 culture. We are neither one thing nor the other ; 
 we miss alike the picturesqueness of a new border 
 settlement, and the ripeness of an old community 
 that understands itself and can look behind. We 
 have no background, no past ; people neither 
 know nor care who were their grandfathers. A 
 town not far off was lately jubilating over its
 
 Nature and Human Nature. 93 
 
 twenty-fifth anniversary; there's history for you! 
 The aristocracy here, as far as we have any, is 
 in theory the ' Old Settlers ; ' in practice, those 
 who have made thirty thousand or so. Grocers 
 and dry-goods men live in the best houses, and 
 rather look down on doctors and lawyers ; nor 
 is there much to choose in mind and manners, 
 as I told you. As for the parsons, they are ex- 
 pected to pay not more than a hundred dollars 
 rent, and to cringe to their employers." 
 
 " Why, man, Mrs. Claybank was bragging about 
 the enlightened toleration and liberalism here, as 
 against our hidebound bigotry in the East. I 
 thought your ministers must be fed on Mill and 
 Darwin, and ladle out the Religion of the Future 
 every week." 
 
 " It wouldn't be safe for them to try it, if they 
 knew how. Stay over Sunday, and you'll see 
 what sort of doctrine we get. I don't say the 
 western spirit isn't in some respects freer than 
 the eastern ; our dominant puritanism has changed 
 its tone a little with the change of scene and 
 climate. We are less wedded to old opinions be- 
 cause we know less about them ; so the fetters 
 of theology are relaxed slightly. ' Liberal ' is a 
 fine word, and popular in proportion to its vague- 
 ness ; the tendency is that way, but they don't 
 know how should they? There's a man in 
 Hector who has read parts of Draper's Intellect- 
 ual Development, and thinks himself an oracle ;
 
 94 Nature and Human Nature. 
 
 Buckle and Lecky he had never heard of, when 
 I chanced to mention them." 
 
 " I say, old boy, do you go to church much ? " 
 " Sometimes. I did when I first came, to catch 
 the tone; I caught it. Oh, you heard of that 
 Sunday-school business ? They wanted me to 
 teach Shorter Catechism, and I couldn't. Yet you 
 see, I am still invited out. That is their liber- 
 alism ; in New York or New Haven I would have 
 been sent to Coventry at once or so Mrs. Clay- 
 bank probably supposes. But this is petty detail ; 
 let's take a larger view. Our winters and sum- 
 mers are both severe, lacking the remotest in- 
 fluence from sea or mountains ; not an elevation 
 of the ground, or body of water worth mentioning 
 within hundreds of miles. Well, you know what 
 that means. ' Depressing,' the natives call it in 
 July, though the mercury goes no higher than on 
 the sound. Depressing ! I should say it was, 
 and the year round. Why? Because the mind 
 of man follows the face of Nature, and where 
 she presents no great or lovely objects he will be 
 a crawling cripple. Your New York is big and 
 bad, but the Hudson and the Catskills ought to 
 save it ; and Baltimore can't go altogether to the 
 dogs while the Bay is at hand. A man may be 
 chained to his desk in those cities, but he knows 
 there is something glorious not far off, and that 
 propinquity keeps him up, if he is not a mere 
 muckworm. Nature, when she gives a decent
 
 Nature and Human Nature. 95 
 
 account of herself, is an educator and a spirit- 
 ual leaven : here, she is barefooted and out at 
 elbows, fit only to raise crops, and support 
 wretches who are content with salt pork and the 
 local paper. A country without trees, hills, and 
 waterfalls is God-forsaken indeed : what can you 
 expect of those who live in it ? An Adirondac 
 guide ought to have more mental force and bright- 
 ness than a graduate of our State University. A 
 Maine fisherman will give you more points of 
 character and quaint discourse in an hour than 
 you will get from the whole population here in a 
 month. No, I'm not forgetting Mrs. Claybank. 
 She's only bizarre, not original ; but she's of some 
 value as the concentrated essence of this region : 
 when you've heard her, you know it all." 
 
 " She's an admirable person, Dick, as you say ; 
 but isn't she somewhat disconnected lack of 
 mental continuity, you know ?" 
 
 " Of course. Her speech goes beyond her 
 thought, and her thought overlaps such basis as 
 she has for thinking. She picks up a word here 
 and an idea there, and her active brain pieces 
 them together anyhow in crazy-quilt fashion, 
 without waiting to get a pattern, or see what 
 her materials mean and what relation they bear 
 to each other. All this is not merely personal, 
 but typical. Such is our style here : life is short, 
 and we can't take time to study a subject down 
 to the ground, or follow out a line of thought.
 
 g6 Nature and Human Nature, 
 
 I like her talk, it contradicts the facts with such 
 naive simplicity and exemplary confidence. Look 
 at this : we know but two kinds of dimension, 
 vertical and horizontal. Now how can you have 
 any adequate idea of elevation till you've seen a 
 mountain, or of extension but from the sea?" 
 
 Here I interrupted his sophistry. " She talks 
 of the illimitable vastness of the prairies ; and so 
 do others. I've heard that often." 
 
 " Illimitable bosh. One gets mortally tired of 
 that rot about the prairies; what are they but 
 great fields stretched out ad nauseam, with or 
 without fences and cultivation ? A lot of land 
 as flat as a floor is no better than so much water ; 
 and who cares for that, out of sight of shore ? " 
 
 " Why, you've just been saying that the sea 
 was the salt of life, so to speak, as beautiful and 
 precious as the mountains." 
 
 " Evidently you've not been at debating society 
 of late, Bob. It's the sea and land together we 
 care about, the sea as seen from the land. We 
 don't want to live on it, not being aquatic animals. 
 Mountains are best, I think, though I'm not so 
 used to them. Where I was brought up, it was 
 as level as here, but we had the water, and plenty 
 of it. Wisconsin and Minnesota have their lakes 
 not large, but numerous and pretty ; when you 
 see Minnetonka and Fort Snelling, you might 
 fancy yourself in the East. Minnehaha is a real 
 cascade, with some rocks ; it wouldn't be noticed
 
 Nature and tfuman Nature. 97 
 
 in your state, but it's a great feature, and very 
 creditable. We go there from six states to polish 
 up our intellects, as the richer folks in the larger 
 towns go East, and as you go to Europe. The 
 lower Mississippi may have its points, and it has 
 been settled longer. West, if you go far enough, 
 there is plenty of material. The Rockies and 
 the Pacific slope have their literature already ; 
 the South is getting it ; New England has had 
 it since Americans began to write. They have 
 traits, as they have landscapes ; but such efforts 
 as have been made to immortalize this middle 
 region have failed totally, or succeeded only in 
 the realistic way as strong photographs of the 
 deadly dismal. What great poem or novel ever 
 dealt with a land that had no hills or lakes or 
 forests ? " 
 
 "You've got me now, though they might be 
 able to answer that at Yale. Then, according to 
 you, all this section has no future at all ? " 
 
 " O yes, a fourth-rate future. Time will mend 
 it somewhat. I suppose cities of the plain, away 
 from coasts, may amount to something when 
 they have a history. But in a new country 
 whose natural features are conspicuous by their 
 absence, society is inevitably raw, and men and 
 women in the brown sugar or crude petroleum 
 stage. Still, my neighbors are redeemable. Do 
 you know why I think so ? Look at the flowers 
 in their windows, and the trees they have planted
 
 98 Nature and Human Nature. 
 
 along the streets. And they have all their pic- 
 nics on the river." 
 
 "Dick, I never supposed you cared so much for 
 scenery." 
 
 " Because I didn't make a fuss over it when I 
 had it ? Try to live a year or two without it, and 
 you'll learn what part it plays in life. But the 
 wind is tempered to the shorn sheep, and we'll 
 take in the river to-morrow."
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 UP THE RIVER. 
 
 THE Major sat at the bow, and I at the stern, 
 with a bait-pail for each, and Dick to share mine ; 
 I trailed a long line behind as we sped up stream. 
 Above the town it widened into marshes, called 
 by natives sloughs, though they bear no resem- 
 blance to that into which Bunyan's Pilgrim fell ; 
 the water is clear, and some feet deep, they told 
 me, and boys go there for sunfish and baby bass. 
 Aiming at larger game, we kept in mid-channel. 
 "I'm doing my Christian duty, sir," said our 
 leader, "and giving you the chance of the first 
 fish." 
 
 Suddenly I felt a tug; the reel whirred. 
 "You've got him," Dick cried. For a moment 
 this style of procedure being then new to me 
 I was tempted to drop the rod, and pull in hand 
 over hand like a greenhorn. Subduing this weak- 
 ness, I reeled in rapidly. Grafton made a dash 
 with the landing-net ; a two-pounder came over 
 the side, and lay flopping. "Lake bass," Way
 
 ioo Up the River. 
 
 commented ; " nearly as good as the black ; can't 
 tell the difference by the way they pull. Consider 
 yourself initiated, Mr. T." 
 
 " Not much science in that," I confessed, as I 
 put on a new bait. 
 
 " Can't be, in trolling. If he isn't well hooked 
 at his first plunge, he won't be, and to stop the 
 boat and let you play him might only increase the 
 risk of losing him. Trolling is all chance ; but 
 you'll see something that isn't, before long. Aha, 
 you've got another." 
 
 So I had, and presently a third ; after that, a 
 blank interval. 
 
 " Would it pay to go back, and try that ground 
 again ? " 
 
 " Hardly ; a spurt like that never lasts. We 
 might row up and down there all day, and not get 
 another bite. Good beginning, though. Go for 
 the right bank, Boggs : I want to try those 
 bushes." 
 
 The Major's gaunt figure stood erect ; his eyes 
 were searching a low shore, heavily fringed with 
 brush. At thirty feet distance he made a cast, 
 direct for the largest clump, it seemed. " Missed, 
 by Jove ! That's a grandfather. Back water, 
 Boggs ; out a little. Steady now." 
 
 These instructions were delivered in a voice 
 just audible. 
 
 "But, Major," I ventured, "if you saw him he's 
 seen you, and won't come back."
 
 Up the River. 101 
 
 " Saw him, no : I saw his signs, and felt him. 
 Look how he's torn the bait ; but it'll do." He 
 cast again ; the glistening minnow dashed over 
 one twig and dived beneath another. " Pull now 
 away from shore ! " The rod bent, the line 
 went out, came in, went out to sixty feet or more ; 
 the great fish Cashed up stream and down, this 
 way and that. For thirty breathless minutes we 
 sat and watched the struggle between instinct 
 and intelligence, between fins and fingers, the 
 fight for life on one hand, for victory on the other. 
 An idle waste of time, you say ? Try it, and see 
 if not merely the hour, but the day that holds it, 
 is not repaid. A fishing-rod is " a stick with a 
 hook at one end and a fool at the other," is it ? 
 In some cases, perhaps ; but plainly, Doctor Dog- 
 matist Johnson, you were never in a boat with 
 Major Way. Had the pole and reel been in your 
 thick thumbs, your aphorism might have been 
 justified ; but had it once been your privilege to 
 see them in a master's hand when a big bass was 
 straining at the other end of the electric line, you 
 never would have written yourself down such an 
 ass. 
 
 At length the net engulfed the victim, and 
 sighs of relief ascended. 
 
 " Well, Major," said I, " your first will beat my 
 three." 
 
 " About even, I think." He drew a scale from 
 his pocket. " Just over five pounds. One of
 
 IO2 Up the River. 
 
 eight was caught below the dam last week ; but 
 this is very fair for up here. Dick, you might 
 string them in two bunches, and hang over the 
 side. Now for the head of the island." 
 
 He sat down, wiped his brow, and filled his 
 pipe, while we gazed admiringly, now on him, and 
 now on his prey, as with wiggling protests it fol- 
 lowed our course, tied securely to a thwart. 
 
 " What comes next ? " I asked. 
 
 " Still-fishing for small bass in a sharp current, 
 among the branches of a big tree," said Dick. 
 " You lose an average of two hooks for each fish. 
 Sometimes the bass are there and sometimes not, 
 but the snags are reliable." 
 
 The town was out of sight now, and the river 
 had changed its character ; its depth was less, 
 its banks higher and more thickly wooded. About 
 these varying shores here meadow, there appar- 
 ent forest it curved and twisted blithesomely, 
 dividing itself by sandbars and green islets. 
 Above one of these we paused, and tied to a 
 protruding branch. 
 
 " Take in the fish," said our chief ; " too risky 
 to leave 'em out ; too much current, and far too 
 much tree. None of us would love this spot if 
 the bass didn't. Curious tastes they have ; I like 
 my wood and water best apart, but fish prefer 'em 
 mixed. Short lines now, and sinkers ; and pull 
 up every minute, or you'll get fast. That's too 
 far south, young man."
 
 Up the River. 103 
 
 I had thrown cautiously, as I thought, but the 
 bait went careering rapidly down stream. "Where 
 are the fish ? " I inquired. 
 
 " Underneath, mixed up with the tree ; perhaps 
 they've made nests inside. The problem is to 
 find them at home without disturbing their fur- 
 niture, which we have no use for. Here's one ; " 
 and the visitor came swinging over the side. " No 
 nets just now, thanks. These animals combine 
 the habits of the turtle with those of the wood- 
 pecker and tree-toad ; if they take hold they'll 
 keep it, and if you can disentangle them from the 
 branches you have no trouble to lift them out of 
 the water." 
 
 In fifteen minutes we had taken as many bass, 
 a weight of perhaps twenty pounds, and lost but 
 five hooks. " Enough of this ; we'd better go 
 while we can with unimpaired self-respect. Now 
 for the cut-off and the croppies. We could sail 
 up there if we had brought the canvas, but with 
 our work it's mostly in the way. A fair mess " 
 he surveyed the striped sides and shining bellies 
 under foot "but all one kind, except for black 
 and yellow. We must have a variety. Dick, if 
 the croppies don't bite and we can't raise a pick- 
 erel, you'll have to sit on the bank and catch 
 us a dogfish. You don't know dogfish? Great 
 coarse thing, full of oil and not fit to give to the 
 pigs. The first one Grafton caught broke his 
 pole ; he was out with a boy, up the creek,
 
 104 Up the River. 
 
 before he fell in with me. He thought it was 
 a prize, and dragged it back two miles on foot, 
 a redhot August day. Then nobody would have 
 it as a gift : they told him it was poisonous, and 
 made him take it away and throw it in the river. 
 Haw, haw ! " 
 
 The Major, who had been somewhat glum and 
 silent at the start, was now happy and even hila- 
 rious. Dick's spirits too had risen ; he seemed 
 another man from the lugubrious critic of last 
 night. It was a heavenly October day, and no 
 other human beings, nor any signs of their exist- 
 ence, were in sight. We were out of the world, 
 far from the crowd and scramble, gone back to 
 primeval paradise but for the implements we 
 carried and the victims at our feet. They missed 
 something in Eden, as Brahmins and vegetarians 
 do to-day. 
 
 " Say, Major," upspoke the oarsman, " yonder's 
 some ducks. Pity we hain't a gun along. Burned 
 pooty shot." But on such a day even I was con- 
 tent to have no blood on my hands. Fish have 
 scarcely any, and do not count ; the lively things 
 that cleave the air, or walk the earth like us, seem 
 much nearer to our humanity. 
 
 The cut-off is a section of the river, severed 
 from the main stream by a long and narrow island. 
 No fields line its banks ; no habitation, or fence, 
 or domestic animal, or reminder of intrusive man, 
 is there, but thick woods and tangled vines on
 
 Up the River. 105 
 
 either side, and here and there such wealth of 
 pebbles as in that region you may not see in a 
 week's journey, away from the water. You think 
 there is no beauty in a stone ? Sojourn there 
 awhile, and when you escape you will sit up at 
 night, if there be a moon, to see rocks from the 
 car windows. 
 
 "I might take a swim here," I suggested. "No 
 danger of meeting ladies ? " 
 
 " Too cold ; that's all. If you were up here 
 every day, you might meet twenty fishermen's 
 boats in the year, and two or three farmers' girls 
 after wild grapes. Now put her against the bank : 
 we'll fish around that stump, about five feet deep. 
 Use corks here." 
 
 I soon learned what a croppy is : as round as a 
 sunfish, but silvery white, and weighing from six 
 ounces to two pounds ; not a game fish like the 
 genuine bass, but its broad flat side against the 
 water makes a strong pull, and its tender mouth 
 requires delicate handling, or the larger ones break 
 from the hook : its flesh is soft, but good eating. 
 They came zealously to our call ; for half an hour 
 the four lines were busy. Then we strung our 
 spoil over the boat's side, and climbed a high bank 
 for lunch. A soft carpet of moss played chairs 
 and table, yellowing leaves of maple and oak the 
 ceiling, and through abundant windows we had a 
 water view east and north. 
 
 " This is glorious," I cried ; " worth coming all 
 this way for, Dick, apart from you."
 
 106 Up the River. 
 
 " I told you it was the best thing here," he said ; 
 "by far the best." 
 
 " I go further," Way remarked with solemnity : 
 "it's the best thing in life. I'm older than you 
 two : I've seen most parts of the country, and 
 most ways of living. Some men prefer shooting, 
 or driving, or dancing; some enjoy grubbing in a 
 store, or mooning over a book ; some like to make 
 a home, and have wife and children round their 
 heels. But give me a boat, and a stream like this, 
 or one of the Wisconsin lakes, and a light wind, 
 and company of the right sort here's to you, 
 gentlemen and the bass biting, and I've got the 
 best this planet can give. Fact is, I can't live any 
 other way. I've tried it. It's hard for me to get 
 through the winters : I should want to die before 
 spring, if it wasn't for this ahead." 
 
 We were all silent awhile. " If you'll stay a 
 fortnight, Mr. T., I'll show you all there is on this 
 part of the river. I can't promise luck like this 
 it's above par to-day ; but there are other places 
 we could try, off the main track." I told him I 
 should like nothing better, but my limit was three 
 days ; this visit was but a brief respite from busi- 
 ness. " Ah yes, business : I never let it inter- 
 fere with fishing. In the next world perhaps 
 there will be no business : that would suit Grafton 
 too." 
 
 I must condense the record of that golden day, 
 so rich in the book of memory, so poor and trivial
 
 Up the River. 107 
 
 on the printed page. The flashing rapids, where 
 we warily cast a long line for tourist pickerel or 
 bass ; the peaceful secluded bays, that gave sur- 
 prised yet tranquil welcome to what might seem 
 the first white men's oar ; the bed of reeds in a 
 broad reach of water, from whose border we lured 
 one lonesome perch who must have been pining 
 for his multitudinous kinsfolk far away. " Do you 
 always have as much variety as this ? " I asked. 
 
 " We can if we want it of place at least, and 
 exercise : as to the fish, that's as they please. But 
 the less we get of them, the more we move about 
 and commune with nature. There are queer nooks 
 you've not seen yet. That's the beauty of it : it's 
 not like sitting on a bank and watching a float all 
 day." 
 
 My respectful recollection goes back to the 
 wall-eyed pike, rare bird at that season and in 
 that part of the stream, which the Major's deft 
 hand extracted from a certain rippling by-path ; 
 and to sundry big bass but none to rival the 
 five-pounder that made free with the hooks of 
 one or two unskilled pretenders, and, pleading pre- 
 vious engagements, resolutely declined to accom- 
 pany us home. I am not strong in natural history, 
 but I made some observations in that field, aside 
 from the main and more profitable business of the 
 hour. A large sunfish joined our party uninvited, 
 with half his side bare and his red gills exposed. 
 We had no surgery for his case, but, thus horribly
 
 108 Up the River. 
 
 wounded days or weeks before by some pirate of 
 the shallow waters, he tugged at the hook as 
 vigorously and returned to his native weeds as 
 merrily as if he were sound. Another intruder 
 was a rock or stump bass (a small and despised 
 variety) crossed in some abnormal way with a 
 wholly different species. 
 
 Far up stream we had landed to stretch our 
 limbs, and laid our rods on a high bank that over- 
 hung the deepest hole for miles. Here Boggs 
 with objurgatory clamor pulled to the surface a 
 snapper, and kept him there to break loose if he 
 could ; when lo, from the depths appeared an- 
 other, which followed the prisoner about, pawed 
 at his shell, and strove to rescue him from his 
 misplaced attachment. Such domestic affection 
 in that rank of life seemed unfamiliar enough to 
 deserve encouragement : the angry oarsman, forced 
 at length to drag his unwelcome captive ashore, 
 would have committed unsportsmanlike destruc- 
 tion, but our intercessions, rising to commands, 
 restored the turtle, with mouth injured no more 
 than was inevitable, to liberty and the presumed 
 embraces of his mate. 
 
 As we rapidly sped homeward, the chill of 
 approaching evening seemed to have touched our 
 spirits. " Ah, well," said the Major, " everything 
 must end. Pity one has to sleep in town, and 
 spend the evenings. It's tame, after this." Dick 
 nodded a discouraged assent. I, who had a hun-
 
 Up the River. 109 
 
 dred interests in the crowd, had been finding satis- 
 faction too in its momentary remoteness, and 
 could almost sympathize with these misanthropes 
 the worn veteran who had tried Life and found 
 this sequestered stream the best of it, the dreaming 
 neophyte who thought it not worth the trial. The 
 rower alone was jovial, meditating on a fish sup- 
 per, and dollars to be gained from his finny wares. 
 
 Suddenly our chief roused himself from his 
 abstraction. " Dick, you must show our friend 
 your pet rock bass. He got off Grafton's hook 
 last year, and swallowed it. Dick takes him in 
 whenever we stop there, for old acquaintance, 
 sake, and sees if he's safe." 
 
 We paused at a partly submerged tree, and 
 Dick dropped three feet of line, which came up 
 instantly with a five-inch fish. " See, his throat 
 has grown over that hook to the head of it, and 
 he doesn't mind it at all." 
 
 " You don't mean you've had him in your hands 
 before ?" 
 
 " Often ; he's marked, you see, and less of the 
 steel is visible each week. Next time it will be 
 out of sight. We've watched the process with 
 interest : he grows fat on it." 
 
 As we neared the boat-house, our trophies were 
 removed from the water, where they had kept 
 fresh ; six heavy strings. "-We'll send a mess to 
 Mrs. Claybank with our compliments, and take 
 specimens to the hotel ; that will leave about forty 
 pounds for Boggs. Not a bad day's work,"
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 MR. RUSTLER. 
 
 As we settled to our post-prandial pipes, I 
 remarked, " We're in for a quiet evening, I sup- 
 pose ? " 
 
 " Unless some of the men you've met drop in 
 or unless you want to call on any of the ladies. 
 Well, if you don't, I don't." 
 
 " Dick, what's the matter with Way ? " 
 
 " Old bachelorhood, and ill-health. He couldn't 
 live without the river, as he says or not here. 
 You see what is before me." 
 
 " Not if you take care of yourself : your health 
 appears to be all right thus far. Why did you 
 come here, if you don't like it ? " 
 
 " I had to go somewhere, and this was sug- 
 gested. One place is as good as another." 
 
 " And a good deal better, as Paddy said. I 
 don't see exactly where your philosophy comes in, 
 my boy." 
 
 " I'll show you. ' There is no armor against 
 Fate ; ' so the old poet sang, and so people be-
 
 Mr. Rustler. Ill 
 
 lieve. They are mistaken. The world is full of 
 unmanly howls and earsplitting wailings ; Rachel 
 mourning for her children, and boys crying over 
 spilt milk, or whining because they can't have 
 the moon : it makes very poor music. All this 
 might be avoided ; only men are so busy trying 
 to get rich, or to enjoy themselves, that they 
 neglect to ward off misfortune or prepare to meet 
 it. Now since, according to all testimony, there 
 is more misery than happiness abroad, and what 
 is called happiness is mostly factitious and delu- 
 sive, not worth the trouble of searching for, the 
 part of common sense is manifestly to accept the 
 facts and arrange yourself accordingly. There is 
 an armor against Fate : Indifference." 
 
 The last sentence he delivered in his most 
 impressive manner and with an accent of deep 
 conviction. So this is his last valuable discovery, 
 I thought. But I said nothing, and waited to 
 hear what more he had to urge about so priceless 
 an addition to our fund of knowledge. 
 
 " I made up my mind long ago that much less 
 profit than is usually supposed comes of human 
 efforts and ambitions, and that the main stage of 
 life is really the mind within, not the world with- 
 out. The most disgusting and humiliating of 
 emotions I take to be disappointment. I expe- 
 rienced it once or twice in childhood, and that 
 was enough ; I determined to shut it out. How? 
 By not expecting or desiring things. Then there
 
 112 Mr. Rustler. 
 
 was the fear of death, which makes one feel like 
 a coward ashamed of himself, and most uncom- 
 fortable. Well, before I was fifteen I had over- 
 come that, by steadily accustoming myself to the 
 thought ; in such a case familiarity removes all 
 terror. I had plenty of time to think, you know, 
 and enough to think about, in view of our domes- 
 tic mishaps my father's death, and the rest. I 
 said to myself, it is caring that makes one vul- 
 nerable. If you love life unduly, you dread to 
 lose it, and so are held in bondage, as St. Paul 
 says. If you build castles in Spain, and invest 
 hope and heart therein, down you go to the depths 
 when your cloud-capped towers fall. If you anti- 
 cipate this or that eagerly, as men do with their 
 amusements and love-affairs and financial ventures 
 and what not, you merely put yourself in a way 
 to be hurt. That's clear, isn't it ? Now what's 
 the remedy ? Simply this : don't build, don't 
 anticipate, and above all, don't care. I saw no 
 wisdom in being torn in two and broken to pieces 
 by every stroke of ill fortune, such as must come 
 frequently when one tries to do things and attain 
 given objects, no matter what ; nor yet by the 
 mere absence of success and prosperity, such as 
 was my hereditary lot and likely always to attend 
 me. So I took for my watchword, Indifference. 
 What does Marcus say? 'Another prays, How 
 shall I get this thing? Do thou pray, How shall 
 I not desire it.' That's the point. I used to be
 
 Mr. Rustler. 113 
 
 criticised for this at college, you may remember, 
 and there was no use of explaining my position to 
 the boys they wouldn't have understood it, or 
 would have thought it heresy and schism ; but I 
 saved myself a lot of unpleasantness, no doubt. 
 Bardie wanted to see me roused : I didn't. You 
 thought me naturally phlegmatic : it wasn't alto- 
 gether that. Know thyself is the maxim to start 
 with. In this world a man can't afford to be pas- 
 sionate and eager and anxious ; at least I couldn't. 
 Even affections are expensive and dangerous, and 
 as the natural channels of mine were cut off, I 
 took that as an indication of Providence that I 
 had better not form any artificial ones. It's safer 
 to work one's brain, and live in that not neglect- 
 ing the conscience, of course. It was none of my 
 business to force this doctrine on others : we're 
 all made differently, and each must find out for 
 himself what he needs. But this was the medi- 
 cine for me." 
 
 I had listened to this harangue with exemplary 
 patience, feeling, as any one must, how wide of 
 the mark the arrow flew. But here seemed to be 
 an opportunity to point out my poor friend's error, 
 without being too rough with him. " Medicine 
 what do you want of medicine ? I don't see why 
 you should pose as a sick man. And to people in 
 ordinary health physic is considerably less impor- 
 tant than food. What does your theory say to 
 the question of ways and means? "
 
 114 Mr. Rustler. 
 
 So grossly practical a suggestion he dismissed 
 with his habitual easy contempt. " That's an- 
 other matter : stick to the one in hand. You 
 don't see why I should treat myself as a patient ? 
 Well, for instance, how could a civilized man 
 stand it in a place like this, if he weren't armed 
 and fortified ? I say to myself, with Marcus, 
 What does it matter whether you are here or 
 there ? 
 
 ' Life is not that which without us we find, 
 Chance, accident merely, but rather the mind, 
 And the soul which, within us, surviveth these things.' 
 
 And that keeps me up, you see." 
 
 " I should think a little tolerably congenial so- 
 ciety, and some adequate occupation, would do it 
 better. You're out of place here, Dick : I always 
 thought it was a false move." 
 
 " It's of no use to talk about that. I'm here, 
 and may as well make the best of it." 
 
 " If you would ; but I fear it's not in you to do 
 it. You're a tender plant and a fragile flower, 
 Richard, and I'm not sure I hadn't better take 
 down your sign and carry you back with me." 
 
 My friend was offering some feeble assurances 
 that he was all right, when the door opened and 
 admitted one of the men I had seen and discussed 
 the night before : Dick introduced him as the 
 occupant of an adjoining office. Mr. Rustler was 
 a heavy and hearty person of twenty-eight or so,
 
 Mr. Rustler. 115 
 
 carelessly attired, with a red face and a familiar 
 manner. 
 
 " Glad to know you, sir ; meant to do the civil 
 thing this mornin', but heard you'd gone fishin'. 
 Grafton can afford that, I s'pose ; rest of us have 
 to stay home and catch men, as the 'postle says. 
 Bet you he didn't take two dollars' worth ; and 
 I've made five to-day. Been lecturin' him ? You 
 look like it, and he needs it. Yes sir, he's a nice 
 boy, Grafton is, but he wants somebody to look 
 after him." The speaker emphasized his remarks 
 by a fraternal thwack administered upon the shoul- 
 ders of his topic. " We'd do it, some of us, only 
 we don't feel intimate enough ; ain't in his set 
 exactly. I was raised on a farm right outside 
 town here, I was." 
 
 "I was raised on a farm too," Dick interposed ; 
 "so we're in the same set as far as that goes." 
 
 " That was way off in Maryland, where folks 
 are lazy and easy-goin*. And then you went to 
 college ; that's what's the matter with you. When 
 we heard he was comin' here, some of the boys 
 got scared ; thought a prize pumpkin from Yale 
 would take the shine off our native products. But 
 I said to 'em, ' Go slow now. There's only seven- 
 teen of us, and four thousand people in town to 
 live off of, besides the farmers. It's a free coun- 
 try. Give the sucker a chance : meet him 
 friendly.' And we did, didn't we ? Leastways, 
 most of us. But bless you, he didn't take to our
 
 ii6 Mr. Rustler. 
 
 ways, no more'n a hen to a duckpond. You see, 
 one has to hustle round lively here, to get on. 
 I've thought of takin' him into partnership, for 
 I'm getcin' 'most more'n I can do, and I want 
 somebody that's up on the law points, as he ought 
 to be ; why, he's read more books 'n I can shake 
 a stick at. If he was willin' to be led, now, and 
 to learn the tricks and follow suit, while I did the 
 hustlin' and 'tended to the active business, me 
 and him'd be a smart team." 
 
 " Yes," I said, anxious to give the good cause a 
 boost. " Grafton would make a first-rate office law- 
 yer under the guidance of an energetic, practical 
 chief." 
 
 Mr. Rustler looked dubious. "Well, I ain't sure. 
 O, I can do the practical and get up the steam, of 
 course ; but I'd have to do it for both. You know 
 office work is mostly bamboozlin', and gettin' round 
 clients and persuadin' 'em to sail in, and such ; and 
 he'd be no good at that. You're in the profession? 
 No ? Lord, I oughtn't to said that, then. Well, don't 
 give me away : it's all between friends and in confi- 
 dence. Here's the way it'd be : some old rooster 
 comes in, and Grafton hears him through and tells 
 him he's got no case, or to go home and make it up. 
 That's his style. No, he might be more use in 
 court. He makes a good speech, if it was to the 
 point. He can soar, only he don't soar when you 
 want him to ; goes off at half-cock about Justice 
 when he ought to be foolin' the jury. Eloquence
 
 Mr. Rustler. 117 
 
 is a good card, but you have to play it at the right 
 place in the game, not promiscuous, hit or miss, 
 accordin' as you feel like it. Judges and juries 
 ain't caught like that ; they want to be handled 
 careful. O, I know he can write ; draws up a dam 
 sight better paper'n I do. But a clerk can do that, 
 or a student." 
 
 " I wasn't aware you had either as yet," Dick 
 put in slyly. 
 
 " No more I haven't, but I will before you do, 
 my Christian friend. You get most of my writin' 
 now, and it don't fetch you two dollars a week, 
 does it ? I've got more important business. The 
 trouble with you is, you're too doggoned fine. You 
 like to wear a clean collar, and cuffs, and feel like 
 a gentleman. That ain't the way. If you want 
 to get on at law, you must turn up your sleeves 
 and go and roll in the gutter a bit." 
 
 " I fear I must plead guilty to that indictment," 
 said Dick with a pensive smile. " I do prefer to 
 keep clean ; I've not been able as yet to acquire a 
 taste for mud." 
 
 "There, he owns it ; talks about taste, and prefer- 
 rin'. You see," exclaimed the practitioner, turning 
 to me in indignant appeal. " He's too blamed 
 finicky and high-toned for any use, out here. 
 Maybe his notions might suit in York, though it 
 don't sound so from what I read in the papers. 
 Why, sir, he lost a case last spring, just by not 
 breakin' up a witness on the other side, when all
 
 Mr. Rustier. 
 
 depended on it. She was a widow woman too, 
 with nobody much to back her; ignorant and 
 nervous, and scared easy. But he just wouldn't 
 do it ; has no idea of bulldozin'." 
 
 "But in that case," said Dick gently, "you 
 know she had the rights of it." 
 
 " What if she had ? What in thunder has that 
 got to do with it ? Once you're in a case, all con- 
 cerns you is your client's interests, and your own 
 of course. Just look at him ;" the visitor turned 
 to me plaintively ; " he's got no more notion of 
 practice 'n that." 
 
 "Well," said Dick apologetically, "that time I 
 was a junior, suddenly called in with imperfect 
 instructions, and misled as to the leading facts. 
 Had I known that our man was trying to cheat 
 the widow out of her farm, I wouldn't have 
 touched his suit. If I'd been retained on the 
 opposite side, I might have done something." 
 
 "Now that's Grafton all over," Rustler vocifer- 
 ated, in tones of much feeling. "Won't take a 
 case unless it suits him ; wants to represent only 
 Sunday Schools and Orphan Asylums. A man 
 was up for pig-stealin', and went to him. Did 
 you take the pigs, says he. Yes, says the man, 
 me and Bill Jacks; but they hain't onto Bill's 
 trail, and he and his wife'll swear I was to their 
 place all that night, which I was, 'cept when we 
 went after them pigs. Get out, says Grafton. 
 Now that's no way to do business. He came to
 
 Mr. Riistter. 119 
 
 me next right next door 'tis and I says, How 
 much you got ? Seven dollars, says he. All right, 
 says I, and I took the cash, proved the alibi, and 
 got him off. That's business, that is. There's 
 where Grafton might have been seven dollars 
 richer if he wasn't so goldarned particular. 
 Won't touch divorce suits even ; and they make 
 an item in these parts, I tell you. You can see 
 the unhitched couples in church of a Sunday ; 
 man sittin' in one pew, ex-wife in the next, proud 
 and smilin' as you please. Yet Grafton thinks 
 divorce is nasty. Gosh ! He's a fine feller, he is ; 
 'most too fine for this world, or this part of it any- 
 way. He ought to staid East, done up in cotton in 
 a bandbox with blue ribbons. Well, sir, jj/0've got 
 horse sense, I see, and maybe you can raise some 
 influence over him ; nobody else can, as I know of. 
 It's a pity to see him throw himself away like this. 
 Talk to him some more ; and if you can make 
 him hear reason, why I'm good to step in and 
 make a man of him." He wrung my hand, 
 patted Dick avuncularly on the head, and with- 
 drew. 
 
 We resumed our chairs, looked at the stove, and 
 then at each other. 
 
 "Well," said Dick, "you see?" 
 
 " O, come ; they can't all be like that. You don't 
 mean he's an average sample ? " 
 
 "No ; he's the best of them for scientific pur- 
 poses : the others are more commonplace and
 
 I2O Mr. Rustler. 
 
 varnished. His frankness and directness are his 
 own ; but he's justly popular, and a rising man. 
 His trumpet may not be of the finest make, but it 
 gives out no uncertain sound; he is single-minded, 
 and beautifully clearheaded. He knows just what 
 he wants, goes straight at it, and gets it. To 
 acquit a petty thief and earn seven dollars is to 
 him an object to be seriously pursued, a step on 
 the ladder of life. He wisely declines to despise 
 the day of small things. He is a model for men 
 of his sort. But I fear I'm not his sort of 
 man." 
 
 "Dick, you're growing cynical, I'm afraid." 
 
 " No, not yet ; I speak in good faith. If I 
 could see and handle things as he does, how the 
 problem of life would be simplified ! Besides, he 
 is good-natured, and rather kindly. He wouldn't 
 oppress the widow and orphan for love of it, nor 
 do any one a mean turn except in the way of busi- 
 ness. But much as I admire him as a specimen, 
 I hardly think I could work with him as a partner. 
 Perhaps I am old-fashioned and prejudiced, as he 
 says ; but so it is. I can see that his view is the 
 conquering one I never denied that; but I can't 
 take it, that's all." 
 
 " Dick, would it have been any worse to accept 
 the charge of Van Snoozer's brother, or such a 
 post as Mr. De Grout would have offered you, 
 than to take work from such a fellow as Rustler ? " 
 
 " Yes, for they wanted to help me, whereas he
 
 Mr. Rustler. 12 1 
 
 means only to use me. I can't take benefits in 
 cold blood ; but out here we show no such deli- 
 cate consideration, and whatever conies to you is 
 in the way of business. Matters are simpler 
 and more manageable: you don't have to be on 
 guard." 
 
 " I never could see much need of being on guard 
 against my friends unless when they wanted me 
 to toe the mark too closely. You must have a 
 good deal of time on your hands : what do you do 
 with it?" 
 
 " Read. I have some books, you know, and I 
 can borrow a few, though the range here is some- 
 what limited." 
 
 " Try any teaching ? You always were good at 
 that." 
 
 " I might, but none has offered. The law was 
 an experiment with me, as it is with so many. It 
 can't hurt one to know a little of it, and when it is 
 proved that law and I can't pull together, I can try 
 something else. But it's not time for that yet, and 
 I'm making ends meet as it is." 
 
 This might be, but I was satisfied with neither 
 the aspects nor the prospects of his case. So I 
 did some thinking that night, and evolved a plan ; 
 not much of a plan, just an humble pottering 
 affair, but if I could get it to work it might 
 improve the present situation a little. And the 
 next day I talked up education, and told him he 
 ought to aim at a professorship, or something of
 
 122 Mr. Rustler. 
 
 that kind, in the future. I felt sure he never 
 would do any good at law, and wished to induce 
 him to accustom his mind to the idea of looking 
 a step or two beyond day after to-morrow.
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 A PHANTOM BALL. 
 
 ON the last night of my brief stay there was a 
 phantom ball at the hotel. The giddy youth of 
 the town encased themselves in sacks or sheets, 
 in which they resembled Kuklux, or grand inquisi- 
 tors, or members of the Venetian Council. This 
 mediaeval costume was not obligatory, and Dick 
 and I, like the sober elders, attended in plain garb 
 with lineaments unconcealed. The dining-room 
 was cleared for dancing, and we stood in the 
 doorway gazing at the performance of the gayer 
 spirits, wherein the weird and the boisterous were 
 agreeably joined, when an episode not on the bills 
 was suddenly introduced. A long-legged gymnast, 
 prancing about to show his agility, came into violent 
 contact with the chandelier, i.e., a large kerosene 
 lamp suspended from the ceiling : down it fell 
 with a crash, and the floor was ablaze in an instant. 
 The votaries of Terpsichore jumped out of the 
 way, and luckily none of their flowing draperies 
 caught, but the flames presently filled a space as
 
 124 A Phantom Ball. 
 
 large as a good-sized table, and mounted four or 
 five feet in the air. Then ensued such a scene as 
 untrained humanity is prompt to furnish on the 
 slightest provocation. Women fled shrieking from 
 the room and the house : men rushed furiously 
 hither and thither, and fell over each other in 
 blind zeal to do they knew not what. A servant 
 (as we learned afterwards) dragged her empty 
 trunk laboriously down four pair of stairs, leav- 
 ing her garments hanging on pegs about her 
 attic chamber. But the best of the show though 
 I did not realize it till later was right under our 
 noses. The fire by itself was a pretty sight, and 
 unusual in the middle of a room ; the sheeted 
 figures which sprang and howled around it supplied 
 a combination not precisely paralleled, so far as I 
 remember, in any opera. Half a dozen of the 
 dancers, who scorned to fly the scene of danger, 
 had been reinforced by two or three of the bravest 
 from without : these hovered on the edge of the 
 conflagration, shouting aimless orders and encour- 
 agements to each other and to the ambient air, or 
 dashing about in wild excitement after ropes, step- 
 ladders, wash-tubs whatever could be of no pos- 
 sible use. One snatched a handkerchief (it was 
 her very best) from a lady who imprudently lingered 
 at a distance to see what might come next, and 
 flung it into the devouring element. Another 
 tore off his coat and therewith beat the flames till 
 but a scorched rag remained to tell of his self-
 
 A Phantom Ball. 125 
 
 abnegating public spirit. A third raced in with a 
 pail of water from the kitchen and inundated his 
 colleagues : fortunately not much of the unharmo- 
 nizing fluid reached the blazing oil. With their 
 frantic movements, these preservers were in much 
 more peril than the building ; but the Providence 
 which watches over drunkards and madmen pro- 
 tected them. Animated by their exertions, I was 
 stepping forth to offer aid, when Dick seized my 
 arm. 
 
 "Keep still, Bob, do. Let the natives conduct 
 this entertainment ; you're only a guest. I don't 
 want to be the only sane person left in the prem- 
 ises. Don't burn up your coat : you can't get an- 
 other to suit you nearer than Chicago. There's 
 nothing to do : don't you see that the fire can't 
 possibly reach the walls ? Five dollars will pay 
 for all the damage, except what those donkeys are 
 making. It will be out within two minutes now." 
 
 And so it was : the exhibition was over in less 
 time than I spend on the recital, and all that 
 remained of it was a few charred planks in the 
 floor and some singed sheets and bootsoles. The 
 aqueous element had proved more injurious than 
 its rival, and the sufferers retired to change their 
 soaked clothing and lynch the too zealous water 
 brigade of one. The company was collected again 
 from yard and street, from hallways and neighboring 
 houses, and joy was even more unconfined than 
 before its interruption, for the most belated bor-
 
 126 A Phantom Ball. 
 
 rower of the county paper was now blest with 
 perfectly fresh news to discuss. 
 
 "O Mr. Tipton," cried Mrs. Claybank, "was it 
 really incendiary ? And did you catch the guilty 
 man who started it, and put it out yourself, as I 
 hear ? Here are two reporters to interview you : 
 but tell me first. They say you were quite the 
 hero of the occasion, and displayed most matchless 
 presence of mind." 
 
 "That was Grafton," I replied. "I suppose he 
 and I were the heroes of the occasion, for we stood 
 by the door and looked at the fire till it went out, 
 while others were piling on fresh fuel. I should 
 have joined those misguided men, had not Grafton 
 deterred me. I will not deceive you : he deserves 
 all the honor. When there is nothing to be done, 
 he of all men is the one to seize and point out the 
 fact : his mind is singularly perspicacious in that 
 direction." 
 
 "Yes, I should never suspect Mr. Grafton of 
 doing what he ought not ; but don't you think, as 
 the Episcopals are so fond of saying in their 
 church, Jie sometimes leaves undone things it 
 might be well to do ?" 
 
 " That is possible, madam ; but in a world where 
 so much is done that ought to be omitted, is it not 
 better to err by deficiency than by excess ? Think 
 of to-night : the mistaken zeal of some of us 
 might have led to the most terrible results. I 
 might be lying a blackened corpse before you,
 
 A Phantom Ball. 127 
 
 but for the calm wisdom, the heroic self-command, 
 of my young friend. In the hour of peril, the 
 man who keeps his wits about him is the one we 
 recognize as best and bravest, and that's Grafton 
 to a T. I wouldn't tell any one else, but do you 
 know what it was he said, that restrained me from 
 rushing madly toward the flames ? He said he 
 didn't want to be the only sane man on hand, 
 it would be so lonesome. Yet that is just what 
 he was." 
 
 "I'm sure you talk beautifully, Mr. Tims, and 
 it's an accomplishment so few of our young men 
 possess : so sorry we couldn't induce you to ad- 
 dress the literary circle. Yes, I always thought 
 there was something in Mr. Grafton, and I'm sin- 
 cerely glad to see it come out. If he was the hero 
 though I suspect your share was larger than 
 you will admit we ought to do something to 
 recognize the fact. What should it be a testi- 
 monial of some kind ? " 
 
 "His modesty would shrink from that; he's 
 modest to a fault, you know. You can appreci- 
 ate him, you have such insight into character ; 
 but I don't believe most people here do. The 
 thing would be to put him into some way of being 
 quietly useful." 
 
 " Why, I asked him to teach in Sabbath School, 
 and " 
 
 " My dear madam, that was his modesty again. 
 He doesn't like to set up for a religious teacher,
 
 128 A Phantom Ball. 
 
 and let his light shine. He's so young, he thinks 
 it wouldn't be proper : he has the nicest ideas of 
 propriety exaggerated sometimes, I admit. It 
 would have to be something private, and secular, 
 or scholastic, if I may use that expression. I 
 hardly like to hint at such a thing ; he would be 
 so offended if he knew." 
 
 "Any secret is perfectly safe with me," said the 
 lady eagerly. " You may speak to me as to your 
 mother ; and anything that is for Mr. Grafton's 
 good I think I ought to know." 
 
 " So you ought : he would tell you if he could 
 bring himself to talk of it to any one. You would 
 hardly suspect it, he is so close about his own 
 affairs; but he's a great scholar. Why, he took 
 the Berkeley scholarship founded by Bishop 
 Berkeley, you know, who was so liberal, and wrote 
 that about the star of empire moving in your direc- 
 tion." 
 
 " He did ? And did Bishop Berkeley crown 
 him, or reward him, or whatever it was, with his 
 own hand ? " 
 
 " By deputy, madam ; the bishop was prevented 
 from being there in person. But Grafton has re- 
 markable gifts as a teacher. The president and 
 professors have asked him to take particular 
 cases in hand, when they themselves had failed to 
 bring a boy through his classes, and he succeeded. 
 Fact, I assure you." 
 
 " You don't say so ! Why, they ought to have 
 'made him a professor then."
 
 A Phantom Ball. 129 
 
 " Too young, and as I said, too modest for his 
 own good. He might have had a nice position 
 if he had staid there ; but your free and bracing 
 air attracted him, and, as you remarked, he wisely 
 came out here. Still, his educational candle ought 
 not to be hid under a bushel, and but these are 
 his private matters, which I hardly ought to men- 
 tion." 
 
 " O, tell me ; I must know all about the dear 
 young man. Purely for my own satisfaction, and 
 that I may understand how best to serve him : 
 you must see the necessity of that. I never talk, 
 you know. 
 
 " Of course ; and he thinks so much of you. 
 Well, you know he's far from rich, and his legal 
 income can't be much yet, there is so much com- 
 petition. Now I ought not to have said that ; it 
 sounds like asking favors for him, and there's 
 nothing he so abhors. He would never forgive 
 me if he were to hear of this conversation of 
 ours." 
 
 " I'll not tell him, and you needn't. Yes, there 
 is no doubt of it, he needs some one to look after 
 him ; he does not push his interests as he might. 
 Why, my husband has heard of his actually re- 
 fusing cases that were offered to him." 
 
 " None in which Mr. Claybank was concerned, 
 I'm sure not if Dick knew the fact : he would 
 do anything for you. He did refuse to defend a 
 thief ; he will be no party to injustice. His con-
 
 130 A Phantom Ball. 
 
 science is not for hire, like some lawyers' : he is 
 so high-minded. He may have been mistaken 
 once or twice, and neglected his own interests as 
 you think, but only from the purest motives." 
 
 "That I can well believe. He wouldn't care 
 for a position in the public schools? Mr. Clay- 
 bank is a trustee." 
 
 "That would interfere with his practice, what 
 there is of it. I don't want him to cut the law 
 not yet. But if there were any boys in town 
 preparing for college, or the like, and they could 
 induce Grafton to give them lessons afternoons or 
 evenings, it would be a great advantage to them ; 
 he's perfect in classics, and mathematics, and 
 things generally." 
 
 " I see : I will think it over. Yes, there are 
 my nephews, and the Browns ; and my own son 
 will soon be old enough. He wouldn't want east- 
 ern prices, would he ? " 
 
 "O, I think not. You could arrange all that. 
 Only he mustn't know that I had anything to do 
 with it : let the idea and the proposition come 
 from you. And conceal if possible the fact that 
 you are doing him a kindness : he might take one 
 from you when he wouldn't from me or anybody 
 else, but even so it would hurt his feelings. You 
 understand that, though some others might not." 
 
 " Certainly I do. Yes, I will arrange it, and 
 it may prove advantageous on both sides. I'm 
 obliged to you for suggesting it, Mr. Tippen. So
 
 A Phantom Ball. 131 
 
 you go tomorrow ? You must come and see us 
 again. You will, I know : they always do. No 
 one who has once breathed the air of the free and 
 boundless West can be content to stay away from 
 it. Perhaps you will arrange to settle here like 
 your friend ; then you can help me to take care of 
 him. Tackville has a great future, and we should 
 be so glad to have you amongst us." 
 
 That night I intimated casually to Dick that 
 there might be a chance of pupils ; Mrs. Claybank 
 had been speaking to me about it. " I told her 
 I thought you might find time for it, and that you 
 were a dabster at such work ; so don't go back on 
 me if they come after you. I don't suppose they 
 pay much, but it will be at least as good as copy- 
 ing law papers." I said nothing about any trouble 
 having been taken, or harmless little stratagems 
 (and possibly fictions) employed, toward the attain- 
 ment of this humble end, for I knew he would 
 have to be older and wiser before he could under- 
 stand that these things must be done in such 
 cases, and that when the person most concerned 
 will not do them himself, he simply transfers the 
 requisite intellectual and moral expenditure to his 
 friends, if he has any who care for him enough 
 not to be willing to see him left out in the cold. 
 To my guarded communication Dick replied, 
 rather indifferently, that he was on hand if 
 wanted, and I turned homeward with a somewhat 
 easier mind.
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 FIFTEEN MONTHS LATER. 
 
 THE pupils came, and added a few weekly dol- 
 lars to Grafton's depleted exchequer : he did not 
 dwell on them, nor need I. His infrequent letters 
 had little to say of externals, and less than before 
 of his beloved theories : either he was growing 
 more sensitive to a lack of sympathy with his 
 flights, or the airy regions of abstraction were 
 losing their charm. A busy man makes a poor 
 correspondent, but that could hardly be his case. 
 Days that glide by in placid and uneventful con- 
 tent furnish little nutriment to epistolary zeal ; but 
 the desire to remind others of one's existence 
 dies, when one has nothing cheerful to tell and is 
 too proud to complain. A vigorous spirit, thrown 
 back upon itself, may find a safety-valve in pen 
 and paper ; but when discouragement damps its 
 powers, and it begins to find its efforts vain and 
 to siispect that life is no great boon, it says of its 
 nearest, first, " I will not inflict my dullness on 
 him," and then, " Cui bonof he will not care to
 
 Fifteen Months later. 133 
 
 hear." Should these and sundry reflections scat- 
 tered through my pages appear out of character 
 with a healthful mind, remember that I am trying 
 to play biographer, and bound to take the tone 
 and view-point of my subject when I can : if the 
 chronicle be sombre, that is Grafton's fault, not 
 mine. 
 
 More than a year passed before I could revisit 
 Tackville, and then the blizzards were blowing 
 and life was all indoors, for with them zero is more 
 frequent than twenty above with us. The river 
 was frozen over, and Major Way wisely gone to 
 Florida. I renewed friendship with Mrs. Clay- 
 bank, and again drank in the instructive accents 
 of Mr. Rustler ; but my business was with Dick. 
 At first he was reticent, almost secretive, as one 
 loath to confess to error or defeat : real life was 
 beginning to claim his attention, and he liked 
 neither the matter of the discourse nor the man- 
 ner in which it was forced upon him. The few 
 external topics of common interest were soon 
 exhausted, and we sat in silence before the red-hot 
 stove. The room bore signs neither of wealth nor 
 want. There were no tapestries, no Persian car- 
 pets, no buhl and ormolu and bijouterie : if there 
 had been, you would probably have heard of them 
 before. As for the plain pine table and book- 
 shelves, the two armchairs and the cuspidore 
 (though I am straining a point to entitle it thus), 
 I decline to expend labor in describing what you
 
 134 Fifteen Months later, 
 
 may see in any poor young lawyer's office of your 
 acquaintance the next time you exchange the 
 splendors of the metropolis for your native coun- 
 try town. I know it is the custom to give further 
 particulars, and if you insist on them I may say 
 that Richard slept in his office, on an old lounge 
 which he had purchased for $3.75 at a sale. 
 When I objected to this arrangement as unsocial 
 and unsanitary, he said he had wearied of hotel 
 bedrooms, and found them too bitterly cold in win- 
 ter. " I can't afford to be luxurious like you, and 
 order a fire every night, when I have one going 
 here. Anthracite's expensive at this distance, and 
 our soft coal is fit only for factories. Besides, I 
 save a dollar a week this way." He was still tak- 
 ing his meals at the Occidental House, at a heb- 
 domadary cost of $4. Another dollar might be 
 retrenched by the transfer to a boardinghouse, 
 but he dreaded the enforced proximity of various 
 salesladies, schoolma'ams, real estate agents, and 
 rising tobacconists. " It's well enough," he ob- 
 served, " to say good morning to them in the 
 street, or how d'ye do at a party ; but I don't want 
 to meet them regularly three times a day, and have 
 to sit at table till all of them are done. Rustler 
 likes it : he can get up and go off when he's 
 ready, and criticise the food, and chaff the land- 
 lady ; but I can preserve my identity and my 
 independence best between this and the hotel. 
 Lonesome ? No : I can go out if I want to."
 
 Fifteen Months later. 135 
 
 He was occasionally invited to tea, I learned, at 
 Mrs. Claybank's and some other houses, but no 
 deduction for this item was made from his board- 
 account a fact which indicates his unworldly 
 nature, never sharp at a bargain. His laundry 
 bill, averaging fully seventy-five cents a week, 
 showed his lingering aristocratic tastes ; that of 
 Mr. Rustler, I imagine, was two-thirds less. His 
 annual outlay for raiment I neglected to inquire ; 
 but he still patronized an eastern tailor, though 
 less frequently than of old. " You can wear your 
 clothes out, here," he informed me ; " that's one 
 advantage. As for travel, we rarely go anywhere, 
 for the places worth going to are all too far off. 
 Incidentals are almost nil : so you see I ought to 
 be able to make expenses with but a moderate 
 amount of what our friend next door calls 'hust- 
 lin' ; he likes that better than I do." 
 
 These items I gathered and noted down with 
 care, having in view the requirements of a real- 
 istic age ; and I trust you will be satisfied. It has 
 been previously stated that the young man's form 
 was tall and well knit, his eyes and hair dark : let 
 me now add that his nose was straight, his hands 
 arid feet of moderate size, his beard short and a 
 most beautiful curly brown. For reasons that will 
 hereafter appear, I am unable to set his photo- 
 graph against the title-page. 
 
 I will own that I was more interested in his 
 inner man, as it was revealed in our conver-
 
 136 Fifteen Months later. 
 
 sations, or rather in his monologues. Had Dick 
 worn blue spectacles, a throat-fringe, and a wool- 
 len comforter, I should still have liked, once 
 or twice a year, to hear him disclose his mental 
 processes and their singular results. The argu- 
 ments by which his tenets were supported might 
 be far from satisfactory, but they were minor 
 matters, thrown in as it were in memory of our 
 college days ; and I recalled the advice of the 
 sage to the young Englishman going out to 
 assume judicial functions in some colony: "Never 
 give the grounds of your decisions. The conclu- 
 sions will probably be right, the reasons for them 
 will almost certainly be wrong." With Graf ton, 
 indeed, the ends he attained were no less open to 
 criticism than the steps by which he sometimes 
 professed to reach them. Most men, if they had 
 heard his views announced, would have thought 
 him in jest or doubted his sanity ; even the few 
 accustomed to weigh opinions might have won- 
 dered at so much brain-cudgelling with no possible 
 outcome beyond his own mental satisfaction, and 
 that very limited and dubious in the long run. 
 His postulates, or the way they were held and 
 stated, bore an air of peculiar guilelessness, as if 
 the forming and discussing of them were a man's 
 main and proper business. He had an unequalled 
 gift for contemplating Life and receiving no more 
 personal impression from it than if he were out- 
 side its circle : he treated the world as a beetle
 
 Fifteen Months later. 137 
 
 which he might pin to a card and examine at his 
 leisure, without expecting it to make any active 
 demonstration in return. At least he had main- 
 tained this attitude up to date ; but now there 
 were signs of weakening, of feeling or suspecting 
 an assault on his castle of inquisitive indolence. 
 Had he lived in the days of the Sophists, his 
 talent might have brought fame and income, ex- 
 cept that he was too honest ; now, unhappily, 
 chairs for this kind of cosmology are neither en- 
 dowed nor popular.
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 A FOURTH OF JULY ORATION. 
 
 WE sat for a time in silence, which I finally 
 broke. " What's the matter, old man ? You look 
 as if a summons had been served on you." 
 
 " Perhaps it has. I may as well tell you, Bob. 
 The notions we learned in college don't seem to 
 apply in outside life." 
 
 " So you're beginning to find that out, eh ? " 
 
 " I don't mean the ordinary curriculum. The 
 mathematics are useful to engineers, and classics 
 to such as wish to teach them, and logic to those 
 who think so, perhaps. I refer to the great under- 
 lying principles. The Socratic idea, you remember, 
 was presented as the starting point of intellectual 
 life, the basis of all study, the inclusive rule for 
 thought and action." 
 
 " I remember that you said so. You were wild 
 about it in my last year." 
 
 " I thought it was self-evident : I think so still. 
 This is supposed to be a scientific age, and Truth 
 for Truth's sake is the avowed maxim of all science.
 
 A Fourth of July Oration. 139 
 
 Investigate, and note the results ; collect facts, 
 and try to infer their laws ; see things as they are, 
 and speak and act accordingly. What other stand- 
 ard can there be ? What other creed can a man 
 accept, unless he owns himself a muckworm, 
 caring only to cover his back and fill his belly, 
 to live as the beasts live and die as the fool dieth ? 
 To worship and follow Truth, and welcome her in 
 all her shapes and voices, is what all decent men 
 profess." 
 
 " Profess, I dare say ; it's cheaper than practising. 
 We're all to some extent muckworms, Dick all 
 but you, and you'll have to fall into line before 
 long. Don't be so hot about it ; it can be done in 
 creditable moderation. You see, we aim to make 
 the best of both worlds, to serve the spirit without 
 starving the body or vice versa, perhaps, with 
 most. And so we make a judicious compromise." 
 
 " You can't," he said with an air almost of irrita- 
 tion. ".There's no compromise here ; it's one thing 
 or the other. A man chooses either Truth or lies, 
 and serves God or mammon." 
 
 " You put it too broadly. Motives are mixed, and 
 oral or written deliverances, and things generally. 
 Your feet are on mother earth, though your head 
 may be in the clouds as it is too apt to be. You 
 see, we're obliged to consider temporal needs and 
 occasions as well as the eternal verities. You 
 ought to attend to one without neglecting the 
 other ; that's scripture, isn't it ? Study so to
 
 140 A Fourth of July Oration. 
 
 express your truth that it will be taken without 
 offence ; there's a deal in the art of putting things. 
 But go on and spin your yarn ; I can preach my 
 little sermon afterwards." 
 
 " It's this way. The theory, beautiful and noble 
 as it is, doesn't seem to work when you take it out 
 of doors. Try to act on the Socratic idea, and you 
 get into hot water at once. Put your principles 
 into words, and you're marked as a fool ; trace 
 them to their most obvious application, though 
 it be plain as a proposition in Euclid, and you're 
 liable to be a blasphemer because you're butting 
 against somebody's effete prejudice. You don't 
 want to hurt any one, or get into rows : you think 
 your testimony is as impersonal as that two and 
 three make five, or that Virtue is laudable ; but 
 old superstition comes in the way, and its owners 
 perhaps a host of them rise and howl, and 
 roar you down. You're called on to state your 
 opinions : they may be those held by all rational 
 men, a matter of rudiments and axioms, or they 
 may be in a debatable ground, a region of contro- 
 versy. Well, you've formed them honestly, accord- 
 ing to the best lights within reach ; you can't lie, 
 you say what you think like a gentleman : and then 
 it's as if you had insulted Elisha, and he set his 
 bears on you. Who was it said error of every 
 kind might meet with favor, but the world never 
 did and never would tolerate real Christianity ? 
 Enlarge that, put general truth in place of a par-
 
 A Fourth of July Oration. 141 
 
 ticular religion, and I believe it's so. People like 
 neither hard pan nor frank statements : if you 
 think a thing out and tell them how it is, they 
 count you a heathen man and a publican." 
 
 I soon learned what specific experiences had 
 given rise to this large lamentation ; there were 
 two of them. Home talent being cheaper than 
 imported, Grafton had been chosen as orator on 
 the preceding Fourth of July. He had had the 
 forethought to inquire whether the free expres- 
 sion of individual views on public topics would be 
 acceptable, and the inviting committee-man, who 
 was not an active politician and regarded the ad- 
 dress as a bare matter of form, told him to say 
 twenty dollars' worth of what he pleased. There- 
 upon he had ingenuously assumed the scholar's 
 and reformer's standpoint, and prepared a trac- 
 tate on Our Dangers and Our Safety. He de- 
 nounced corruption, narrow partisanship, the 
 greed for office, and the arrogant tyranny of 
 bosses and machines ; pleaded for a broad national 
 spirit that should look not back but forward ; re- 
 called other landings besides the one at Plymouth 
 Rock ; announced that the war was over and its 
 results secure ; quoted from Washington's Fare- 
 well Address the passages which deprecate sec- 
 tional feeling; commended the sovereignty which 
 is carried under the hat, and the inclusive patriot- 
 ism which has "love and tears for the blue, tears 
 and love for the gray. " That doctrine is suffi-
 
 142 A Fourth of July Oration. 
 
 ciently familiar now, but ten years ago it was 
 liable to be considered not only novel but traitor- 
 ous. 
 
 Nobody listened to the effort except the digni- 
 taries on the platform and a few bumpkins who 
 did not mind standing an hour in the sun ; but 
 among the former was a legal luminary who after 
 much intriguing had secured a place on a certain 
 State Committee, and cherished legislative yearn- 
 ings as yet ungratified by a nomination. After 
 the proceedings and as soon as the orator was out 
 of hearing, he rose in wrath, denounced the speech 
 as an outrage, and said it should have been stopped 
 in mid career. The local papers, at whose offices 
 Dick had cultivated no great intimacy, published 
 brief and garbled reports of his discourse, and 
 long editorial antidotes to its poison : he was called 
 an unrepentant rebel and an impudently flagitious 
 detractor from the unsullied majesty of the Party 
 in power. 
 
 " Well, old man," I remarked when this tale of 
 woe was concluded, "it's a new thing for you to 
 attach so much importance to what folks say about 
 you ; I suppose they didn't warn you to leave the 
 town, or threaten tar and feathers ? Short of physi- 
 cal violence, I wouldn't mind if I were you. And 
 it's six months ago now." 
 
 " O, I didn't care for the personal aspect of the 
 case. It did me no great harm ; but I don't like 
 to see Truth spit upon and crucified."
 
 A Fourth of July Oration. 143 
 
 " Now, Dick, you analyzed the boasted liberalism 
 of this region for my benefit when I was here be- 
 fore; you told me what their free thought and 
 openmindedness amounted to. What could you 
 expect, when you sprung on them such a new idea 
 as that the war was over ? They don't know that, 
 and they'll not believe it on your authority." 
 
 "Bob, what I said was all true and sound. It 
 can be disputed only by blind bigotry ; it is ac- 
 cepted by all dispassionate thinkers. I'll get the 
 thing and let you read it." And he began to rum- 
 mage among his papers. 
 
 "O, thank you very much, but I'm content to 
 take your word for it entirely so. Dispassionate 
 thinkers, I dare say : keep it for an audience of 
 such. As you don't find them hereabouts, why 
 should you incur the odium of a prophet out of 
 season ?" 
 
 "But the people must be instructed. How are 
 they ever to learn unless somebody tries to teach 
 them ? Their newspapers won't do it, and I 
 thought I had a chance to." 
 
 " Let those do it who have a following, and can 
 afford to take the risks. Why should you tilt at 
 windmills? You're young, and not widely recog- 
 nized as a leader yet. And then you're from the 
 wrong side of the line." 
 
 " Why do you bring that up ? I was but eight 
 when the war broke out, and my people had nothing 
 to do with it. I've not been South for ten years,
 
 144 -A Fourth of July Oration. 
 
 and have no prejudice at all on that score. I'm 
 not even a Democrat; I don't vote not seeing 
 much of late years to vote for. The speech was 
 strictly unpartisan. My being originally from a 
 border state has nothing to do with the question." 
 
 " Not in the clear white light of Truth, doubt- 
 less ; but it weighs with these stalwarts, who call 
 any man a rebel that is not of their opinion. The 
 unpartisan character of your humble effort was its 
 worst offence ; how should they understand a posi- 
 tion they never dreamed of ? When an Indepen- 
 dent movement comes, the hacks will hate it worse 
 than they do the other party. And you've actually 
 been trying to initiate one all by yourself, and here 
 of all places ? Do you really think it was pru- 
 dent, or modest either, to essay the conversion of 
 the community so suddenly ? You can't expect 
 people to be reasonable in politics and religion. 
 It's not peculiar to this town, or to the state. 
 You'll find the same thing in our back counties, 
 where the Weekly Forum gives the law." 
 
 " Perhaps I ought to have allowed for the force 
 of prejudice. Jeremy Taylor says, ' As well charm 
 a fever asleep with the noise of bells, as make 
 any pretence of reason against that religion old 
 men have entailed on their heirs male so many 
 generations.' One generation has done it in this 
 case : political superstition is as bad as the other, 
 I suppose." 
 
 "Worse, for the other is merely a traditional
 
 A Fourth of July Oration. 145 
 
 attachment to theories and forms. Except with 
 the parsons, it bears no close relation to busi- 
 ness: the rest have merely the limited glory of 
 being trustees and vestrymen. Whereas in poli- 
 tics, every man has a vote, and pays taxes ; some 
 of them have friends in office, or hope to be post- 
 masters themselves." 
 
 "Well, what would you have done in my place?" 
 
 " Restricted my eloquence to the safe and ap- 
 proved Spread Eagle ; enlarged on our unprece- 
 dented growth and advance, specially in this sec- 
 tion, the vast agricultural resources, the free and 
 boundless prairies, the gorgeous Future knocking 
 at our doors. That would have hit them where 
 they live, and preserved serenity and brotherly 
 feeling." 
 
 " Stale and wearisome platitudes, repeated ad 
 nauseam in every weekly paper ! Would you 
 have told them nothing they didn't know before ?" 
 
 " They don't want to hear anything they didn't 
 know before. My child, platitudes, decently clad, 
 are always welcome. The attempt to teach people 
 new tricks and uproot their venerable dogmas im- 
 plies an offensive assumption of superiority, which 
 they resent of course. You've not yet learned the 
 secret of popular instruction, which is simply to 
 bring forth with a solemn air of deep conviction, 
 and if possible as new discoveries, what your 
 hearers believe already. It's all Arrangement 
 and Style, as the books told you long ago ; the
 
 146 A Fourth of July Oration. 
 
 Invention is merely nominal. Not matter, but 
 manner brings down the house, and carries the 
 audience along. Till you master this art, you 
 cannot become one of the Great and Good ; never 
 President, and not even a congressman."
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 AN EXAMINATION. 
 
 His second eye-opening experience had been in 
 this way. A department of English was vacant 
 in the High School of one of the larger towns ; 
 the duties were entirely within Dick's competency, 
 and friends advised him to apply for the place. 
 He had no difficulty in obtaining sufficient testi- 
 monials, but the appointment was made to depend 
 on a competitive examination. This was conducted 
 by the local superintendent of schools, a gentleman 
 who enjoyed the double repute of an active, bust- 
 ling official and a universal scholar. Seeing that 
 his range included all subjects from kindergarten 
 up, and that he had to be a man of affairs no less 
 than a man of ideas and books, here was a task for 
 the most lucid and comprehensive intellect. So 
 heavy and heterogeneous a load, like those of the 
 mules in New Mexico, could be carried only by 
 the most dextrous and methodical packing, and the 
 packer must possess the secret of his art. Where 
 dates, declensions, and formulas are considered in
 
 148 An Examination. 
 
 lieu of pans and picks and bundles of cloth and 
 flour and sugar, Defmiteness is plainly that secret. 
 Each point must be exactly placed and sharpened, 
 to each question there must be one precise an- 
 swer, for each topic an accepted authority whose 
 word is law. If you begin to doubt and inquire 
 and discuss, and admit a possibility of different 
 views or of leaving a subject open, you will make 
 slow progress and never be able to cover the 
 ground. The mind wants positive knowledge and 
 fixed conviction ; therefore the laws of thought 
 and language must be as absolute as the tenet that 
 twice five is ten. Before this tribunal Grafton 
 fared somewhat as follows. 
 
 " What are the rules for the use of the 
 comma ? " 
 
 " Each book has a different set, and none of 
 them are wholly satisfactory. Some of the rules 
 generally accepted are open to serious exception. 
 No set can approach exhaustiveness, unless drawn 
 out to wearisome and impracticable length." 
 
 The examiner opened his light blue eyes to their 
 widest extent, uplifted his Jovian brow, and in- 
 quired with sarcasm, "Would you dispense with 
 rules then ? " 
 
 " Not altogether. With very young or dull 
 pupils I would follow such as the book contained, 
 whatever it might be with qualifications, of 
 course. To the more advanced I would explain 
 that an underlying principle is to be borne in
 
 An Examination. 149 
 
 mind and applied to differing cases by their own 
 intelligence ; and that the comma is not always 
 of equal weight, but represents a sliding scale of 
 pauses of the voice or mind, from the slightest to 
 that indicated by the semicolon." 
 
 " You regard punctuation then as optional, 
 unimportant ? " 
 
 " On the contrary ; it is so important, and so 
 generally neglected, that it makes a call on the 
 reflective faculties, and should not be left merely 
 to the memory." 
 
 " We will pass that point then. How do you 
 classify prepositions ? " 
 
 Dick reflected a moment. " In English I see 
 no basis for a classification that shall be of any 
 value. With prepositional phrases it is other- 
 wise." 
 
 " Indeed ? Have not Professor Drybones and 
 Dr. Hairsplit thought differently ? " 
 
 " Very possibly. Able and learned men have 
 their whims, by which the rest of us scarcely need 
 be bound. I could classify prepositions in several 
 ways, but none of the results would be worth the 
 labor." 
 
 "That may well be," said the examiner sagely; 
 and the youngest committeeman tittered. " You 
 appear to have little respect for divisions, Mr. 
 Grafton, and for rules. May I ask why ? " 
 
 "Certainly, sir. It is because the undue stress 
 often laid on them misleads the student, who
 
 150 An Examination. 
 
 ought to be encouraged to look into the reason 
 and nature of things for himself. Grammatical 
 rules exist merely for convenience* sake, as 
 means toward an end, as more or less dim adum- 
 brations of truth : to take them for the end to be 
 reached, the inmost truth of the matter, is to be 
 misled. Language is but the imperfect instru- 
 ment of an imperfect agent ; but both the mind 
 and this its chief product and tool are flexible, 
 capacious, ever changing, and not to be hemmed 
 in and tied down by formulas." 
 
 The superintendent of schools looked from side 
 to side of his long table, but none of his commit- 
 teemen had anything to suggest. Then, like one 
 threatened with drowning in a metaphysic sea, 
 who grasps at the first solid object within reach, 
 he asked, "What is a complement?" 
 
 " A term employed to indicate two very differ- 
 ent things, object and attribute. I should tell my 
 pupils to use in either case the word which ex- 
 pressed the fact, and discard the ambiguous and 
 comparatively meaningless ' complement.' ' 
 
 Mr. Grinder shook his head sadly. " If you 
 please, gentlemen, we will pass from Grammar 
 to Rhetoric. Do you place Imagery among the 
 Qualities of Style ? " 
 
 "That depends on the point of view. If you 
 choose to put it there, I would not wish to say 
 you were wrong ; but I hardly care to settle the 
 matter, not thinking myself a final authority."
 
 An Examination. 151 
 
 " Doubtless not. But you perhaps have an 
 opinion ? " 
 
 "O yes. I am content to hold by Clearness, 
 Force, and Grace as the main qualities, and to 
 consider Imagery as contributive to any of these 
 in turn, or to all three at once ; but I have no 
 wish to dogmatize, for the case does not admit of 
 it. It's not as if you were dealing with rocks and 
 gases." 
 
 The examiner's eye brightened ; he did not 
 listen to the superfluous close of this statement. 
 He was not an unkindly man at bottom, and had 
 no wish too deeply to disgrace this presumptuous 
 rationalist. Moreover he dearly loved to trot out 
 an authority. " Ahem ; gentlemen, I may men- 
 tion the fact that the eminent Professor Botch on 
 this point agrees with Mr. Graf ton." 
 
 The committee, who had been looking grave, 
 now pricked up their ears and smiled wisely on 
 each other. All no doubt deeply familiar with 
 the fame and works of Professor Botch, they 
 beamed upon the candidate, as if to say, ' Right 
 for once ; this is not so scandalously bad after 
 -all.' 
 
 But Dick, with his incorrigible candor, refused 
 to accept this advantage. " My dear sir, that by 
 no means proves my position correct. Professor 
 Botch is rather noted for his loose and even wild 
 assertions ; see his last book gone over in The 
 People two weeks ago. But if he stood much
 
 I5 2 An Examination. 
 
 higher than he does for accuracy and sound judg- 
 ment, still he would have no more right to settle 
 this question than you or I." 
 
 The committee looked puzzled, the examiner 
 disgusted. "At this rate we shall settle nothing, 
 I fear. Well, Mr. Grafton, at least you have read 
 Thomson, I presume. Can you give me the dates 
 of his birth and death, and of the appearance of 
 his principal works ?" 
 
 " No, sir : I do not burden my memory with 
 such details. I know where to find them when 
 needed, and that is sufficient." 
 
 " You would have found it advantageous to 
 have them on hand now, sir." 
 
 But I have no desire to exhaust the reader's 
 patience, and my topic is not Grammar, but Graf- 
 ton. He replied to succeeding queries in the 
 same unprecedented manner, as if the object in 
 view were the ascertainment of general Truth, 
 and not the securing of a particular appointment. 
 
 "Well," I remarked, when he had concluded his 
 narrative, " so that's your idea of the way to con- 
 duct your end of an examination. And yet you 
 didn't get the berth ? That is strange, now. Do 
 you think you took the best road to attain your 
 end ? " 
 
 " I was there to answer his questions, and show 
 what I knew and thought, so far as opportunity 
 offered. It was plain from the start that I had 
 no chance for the place, his views and mine were
 
 An Examination. 153 
 
 so antipodal. He wanted some little martinet, 
 who had Truth all cut and dried and done up in 
 brown paper parcels weighing so much apiece. 
 At that rate, his ideal school ought to be easily 
 realized. Yet they say he's a very efficient 
 man." 
 
 "And that's more than you will be, Richard, 
 till you acquire the virtue of Adaptability. You 
 must have that to be Available. Having tried for 
 this place, you should have kept on trying to the 
 bitter end." 
 
 "Why, what could I do, after the turn things 
 took, but bear my testimony ? " 
 
 " Kept it in your pocket till called for, which 
 was not on that occasion. It wasn't an open de- 
 bate, nor were you there on equal terms. Why 
 should you defy and antagonize one whose good 
 will and word you were seeking ? " 
 
 " I wasn't seeking to rise by falsehood. If a 
 man says that black is white, or that we are in the 
 thirteenth century, am I to agree with him ? " 
 
 " Some would, and wisely : you might at least 
 keep still and not contradict him. When you're 
 after a place in his gift, it's better to seem not to 
 know, and accept his corrections, than do that. 
 He expects you to be meek and deferential, not to 
 fly at him like the rugged Russian bear, the armed 
 rhinoceros, or the Hyrcan tiger. That's no way 
 to treat your superiors." 
 
 " Grinder is not my superior in anything but
 
 154 -An Examination. 
 
 years. If I were the examiner, I could break him 
 to pieces as easily as he did me." 
 
 "Very likely; but that's neither here nor there. 
 You will insist on intrinsic valuations, which are 
 of no account except for our private satisfaction. 
 The world cares only for the outside, and judges 
 by that. When you get to be Somebody, you can 
 ride your hobbies in public, and lay down the law 
 
 - within judicious limits. You'll know how to 
 do it then, and Greatness has its privileges. But 
 to mount the first rounds of the ladder you must 
 show your smooth side, and say and do what is 
 expected of you, and swear by the prevalent deities. 
 You profess to venerate Facts, yet you wont show 
 a decent respect to those that lie closest round 
 you, even when their sharp edges press you hard, 
 and perhaps cut you. They are mundane, I admit, 
 not celestial ; but the millennium hasn't arrived 
 yet, and while you are in Babylon it's as well to 
 obey Babylonish laws and comply with established 
 usages."
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 JOURNALISTIC PROSPECTS. 
 
 WE sat up late and undisturbed that evening, 
 listening in intervals of talk to the roaring blasts 
 without. The night was blue and white, to the 
 vision all snow and moon and sky, to ear and flesh 
 somewhat too boisterous. I had thought of a 
 sleighride, but not in this temperature, nor amid 
 drifts eight feet deep. And indeed, there was work 
 to be done indoors. I do not love to be harsh 
 with a fellow-creature, but the time had come 
 for very open dealings with my misguided friend. 
 The crust of his self-indulgent indifferentism 
 needed to be broken, and his spirit roused to 
 grapple with the tasks of life. So free a critic 
 could not object to be criticised in turn : he must 
 bear the plain speech he loved and practised. To 
 say truth, he would always listen fairly to another's 
 view, however it might rasp his own ; I will do 
 him that justice. So I girded myself for an as- 
 sault upon his citadel, and the conversation ensued 
 which is recorded in the first chapter of this his-
 
 1 56 Journalistic Prospects. 
 
 tory. I have put it there because it reveals the 
 very inmost of Grafton's mind ; by turning back 
 the reader will see him in his habit as he lived, 
 without concealment or disguise not that these 
 were ever much in his way : less frankness would 
 have made him fatter and with all his imperfec- 
 tions on his head. So long as his battle was to be 
 fought, as he needed anything from the world, no 
 one should have learned from me the depth of his 
 unwisdom ; but the revelation cannot hurt him 
 now. 
 
 Next morning Dick came in from the postoffice, 
 as I sat dolefully before his stove with a cigar and 
 last week's local paper. His face was rosy from 
 the cold, and wore an amused smile. "Well, old 
 man, you thought I made an unmitigated ass of 
 myself in that examination at Miletus, didn't 
 you?" 
 
 "About that though the expression is your 
 own. But I'm not infallible, and we live to learn. 
 You haven't got the place, surely?" 
 
 " O no ; that was filled a month ago. But I had 
 two votes, and one of the brightest of the com- 
 mittee, the editor of a leading paper there, listened 
 rather closely to the display of Grinder's learning 
 and my imbecility. He took me to dinner after- 
 wards, was very civil, and asked me i* I had ever 
 thought of journalism. He was not in love with 
 the superintendent, I thought." 
 
 " And this, as a mere beggarly external, was not
 
 Journalistic Prospects. 157 
 
 worth mentioning in your report to me, eh ? What 
 did you say to the man ?" 
 
 " It had no essential connection with what we 
 were talking of last night. I told him editing had 
 never come my way yet, but I was willing to think 
 of it should occasion arise. He said nothing defi- 
 nite then ; seemed merely to be sounding me. But 
 now he writes that he can make a vacancy for me 
 if I care to take it." 
 
 "Will it be worth your while ?' 
 
 " It may. The pay is rather more than I make 
 here: it is a much larger town, and I've had about 
 enough of this. I should attend to reporting cases 
 in court, and educational and literary matters : he 
 wants to make a specialty of them." 
 
 While we were discussing the prospect Mr. 
 Rustler entered, and was taken into our coun- 
 sels. 
 
 " It'd leave only nineteen of us," he said medi- 
 tatively," and an even number looks handsomer. 
 Still, if it's for his betterment I don't know who 
 I should get to do my copyin', but I wont ask 
 him to stay for that. If he'd 've shook himself, 
 now, and put on steam, and gone in with me, as 
 you and me wanted him to but he just wouldn't. 
 I been clean out o' patience with him, specially 
 since that Fourth of July business." 
 
 "Why, Rustler," Dick interposed, "you owned 
 to me, privately, that I was right, in the abstract." 
 
 " Dash the abstract. Those notions '11 be all
 
 158 Journalistic Prospects. 
 
 right next generation, or might be now in Boston : 
 but you ain't in Boston, and what's the use of 
 preachin' to posterity? As the man said, what'd 
 posterity ever do for you ? What you want to be 
 ahead of your time for? If you'd been runnin' 
 for constable, you wouldn't 've raised one vote in 
 ten, after that speech. No, sir, he wont ever do 
 no good here, that's a fact ; and perhaps makin' a 
 new start in another place '11 sort of shake him up. 
 Then he's the kind of cuss that works better by 
 the day 'n by the job ; fact, and blamed little to his 
 credit. I'd a darned sight rather work for myself ; 
 but he's not got the sand to take contracts. Put 
 him on a salary, and he'll feel bound to earn it ; 
 he's got that sort of a slow, down-east spirit in 
 him. Leave that out, and it'll be nigh about the 
 same as here, I s'pect. You've got to hustle in 
 editin', same as in law, if you want to get ahead. 
 You wont see him set the Mississippi afire ; no, 
 sir. But if it's nice clean work, so's to suit him, 
 he may do a bit better 'n he's done here. Law- 
 reportin', is it ? O, he can see the points of a 
 case, once others have carried it through. I'd 
 rather have him report my cases 'n work 'em up or 
 argue 'em a dam sight rather. But all the 
 law Jandyke can put in his paper wont keep 
 Grafton busy more 'n four days in a month, and 
 how's he to earn his meals rest of the time ? 
 Lookin' sharp after Grinder, and comin' down 
 on him once a quarter or so, wont fill up. Book-
 
 Journalistic Prospects. 159 
 
 reviewin', eh ? Yes, he can tell the women which 
 novels is fit for 'em to read and write his own 
 poetry for the obituaries, likely. Charge extra for 
 that, don't they ? Might be a good lay, that. No ? 
 Then I'm darned if I can see how you'll make 
 a business or a livin' out of all these drippin's 
 together." 
 
 " Come, Rustler," said Dick, perversely de- 
 lighted, "don't be so discouraging. You oughtn't 
 to look with scorn on a sister profession, you 
 know." 
 
 "The sister profession, youngster, is made up 
 mostly of two branches you're noways fit to 
 navigate. That is, the writin' part. Politics you 
 daresn't touch, or the fat 'd be in the fire as 'twas 
 with us last summer. Catch me recommendin' 
 you to orate another Fourth of July ! And as for 
 local news, how 're you to know whose squash's 
 taken prizes at County Fair, or what girls from the 
 rural parts are visitin' at Miss Duck's, or which 
 policeman- caught the last burglar ? Th' other 
 papers 'd get the facts down a month before you'd 
 hear of 'em. As to business, I don't s'pose Jan- 
 dyke 'd trust you with that, if his head's halfways 
 level. Don't let him send you out to dun sub- 
 scribers or tout for new ads., or you wont keep 
 the place a week. You get a nice new desk, and 
 have it railed in, and sit there with a nice new 
 scissors and the Eastern papers. Once in a while 
 you might go to a high-toned concert, or a select
 
 160 Journalistic Prospects. 
 
 family circle kind of play, and write that up, but 
 no minstrels or such nothin' common. I hate 
 to have you go to Miletus anyway : it's a big town, 
 and your morals may get hurt. Reckon I'll have 
 to move down there and protect 'em." 
 
 When he was gone Dick said, " Do you know 
 what I should most regret in leaving this ?" 
 
 "Rustler, rather than Mrs. Claybank? Why?" 
 
 " She palls on you before long. But he's so 
 racy and virile and suggestive. He paints things 
 in a good broad glare, with no sidelights or shad- 
 ings. You rarely get such a full-front view of 
 yourself, with the sun in your eyes." And the 
 subject of this unflattering portrait sat and laughed 
 till the tears came. This was one of his peculiari- 
 ties, that, however hard the jest or the argument 
 might hit him, he was always ready to recognize 
 and rejoice in a point well made. Truth in his 
 view gained and lost nothing by having a personal 
 edge ; his egoism was curiously free from vulgar 
 vanity. In his way, poor boy, he was as consistent 
 as man born of woman may be. 
 
 His practice, then in its third year, showed no 
 signs of increasing; his copying was mere journey- 
 man's work. His pupils were nearly ready for 
 college, and others might not come to take their 
 place, for that small town supplied few materials 
 for a permanent ' connection ' of this kind. All told, 
 his income could not equal the six hundred a year 
 offered by the Boomerang. I went with him to
 
 Journalistic Prospects. 161 
 
 Miletus, which was certainly a great improvement 
 on Tackville. It could show handsome business 
 blocks, stores worthy of Broadway, and residences 
 such as you may see about Central Park. A great 
 river flowed at its feet : it was on a main line of 
 travel, and several hours nearer the East. "You 
 will be less out of the world here, my boy ; it is 
 more like civilization," I had to admit, as I took 
 the cars. Mr. Jandyke seemed a fair man, and all 
 was satisfactorily arranged. In the early spring 
 Grafton gave his last lessons, said a cordial fare- 
 well to Mrs. Claybank, and turned his back on the 
 scene of his first adult venture. His departure, 
 I believe, was sincerely regretted by a few, but 
 left no aching void in the local body politic.
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 MILESIAN OPPORTUNITIES. 
 
 OF Grafton's new experience no detailed account 
 need be given. One third-class inland town is 
 much like another, and editorial life in these has 
 been sufficiently depicted in the work entitled 
 "Seth's Brother's Wife." Dick's case, however, 
 differed from that of Fairchild in several particu- 
 lars. His tasks were in good degree separated 
 and denned ; it was not his way to expend much 
 time or cash in the unhallowed precincts of the 
 beer-saloon ; and he did not rise in his profession. 
 
 In truth, it was always easier to tell what he 
 did not, do than what he did. He still wore the 
 air of being undesirous to make or receive any 
 strong impression, of keeping aloof from life. 
 Like Theodore Winthrop, he was 'proud of his 
 individuality, and resisted all the world's attempts 
 to merge him in the mass.' That may answer 
 when one's tree can bear uncommon fruit ; till 
 justified by such a crop, the world cares not a 
 brass sixpence for your individuality, and thinks you
 
 Milesian Opportunities. 163 
 
 if it deigns to notice your case at all a ninny 
 to build a house of self-complacence on so narrow 
 and sandy a foundation. In Grafton's case the 
 attempts at merging, never numerous, were now 
 wholly intermitted. Miletus enshrined some very 
 good society so good that, as with Seth afore- 
 mentioned, it was out of reach of an obscure 
 subeditor. Or rather the sub, if endowed with 
 Dick's bearing and education and with a resolute 
 ambition, might perchance in time have been 
 privileged to ring those exclusive door-bells, gaze 
 admiringly on the treasures of art and upholstery 
 within, and on dancing nights even to enfold the 
 West Hill's daughters in partial and reverent 
 embrace. But of ambition of any sort, as long ago 
 stated, Dick had not enough to float him ; and 
 why should Wealth and Fashion note the existence 
 of a poor young scribbler who has not spirit 
 enough to approach on bended knee and crave the 
 boon of kissing their sacred feet ? 
 
 If either the human or the artistic sensibilities 
 had been more strongly developed in him, he 
 might have found a pure or throbbing joy in the 
 widening of his horizon ; for Main Street, on any 
 clear afternoon, could afford spectacles such as 
 had rarely been presented to his organs during 
 the last three and a half years. When one has 
 been in banishment a while in the mountains 
 after big game, or on the plains cattle-raising, or 
 penned by exigencies of business in some remote
 
 164 Milesian Opportunities. 
 
 nook of the coal or oil regions, looking up dull 
 but auriferous details of some great producing 
 interest how it stirs the blood to feel the pave- 
 ment under foot again, and to behold fairy forms 
 approach, garbed in the latest marvels of Pinkfern 
 and Mme. Belletete ! A halo seems to encircle 
 them ; you wonder if they have not wings. They 
 are a celestial vision, the noblest joint product of 
 art and nature : if custom only allowed it, you 
 would like to fall down and burn incense. When 
 you have been in town a few days, and are taken 
 to call on these same sirens, the divinity has 
 mostly rubbed off, and their talk is probably 
 human and insipid enough ; but when you first get 
 back from a month's yachting, or a sojourn in the 
 Wayback Woods, you feel as if you were in an 
 improved Mohammedan paradise, ennobled by a 
 highly superior and spiritualized race of houris, 
 who have souls finer than ours, and are not to be 
 touched on any account, but only gazed upon 
 adoringly. That is, on the street ; the right 
 streets I mean, of course, and at the right hours : 
 it is somehow different indoors, on a closer and 
 continued view. O, shade of N. P. Willis, you 
 spent your life and most of your soul, in days 
 when they applied to it the text, Adhcesit pavi- 
 mento, over this kind of thing, but you never 
 exhausted the subject, nor even did justice to 
 it, whether in your glittering prose or your 
 rippling verse. To feel the enchantment at its
 
 Milesian Opportunities. 165 
 
 fullest, you should make your leap from the desert 
 into some city where you have little or no ac- 
 quaintance, say Cincinnati or Baltimore. On my 
 native heath, where I know many of the ladies, 
 the charm does not work so well. But the poet's 
 mind was tottering on its throne when he wrote 
 that line about Beauty when unadorned being 
 adorned the most : the sex knows very much 
 better. 
 
 I never could instil these orthodox sentiments 
 into Grafton, who in some respects, it pains me 
 to own, was dull and deficient. I will not say 
 that he cared absolutely nothing for feminine 
 faces, forms, and costumes ; but he looked on 
 them coldly, as if they were hung in a gallery and 
 he were no collector. " I'm not a nabob," he 
 would say ; " I can't afford expensive tastes." In 
 this he was below the level of Mr. Haggard's 
 savages (in ' She '), who venerated their wives, 
 though addicted to the blameworthy practice of 
 removing them when they grew troublesome. As 
 Tennyson says of King Arthur, the right thing 
 is to love one woman and cleave to her ; and till 
 the time comes for that, you can distribute your 
 homage promiscuously. Arrange the programme 
 as you please, always preserving the unsullied 
 purity without which man is unfit to approach 
 Woman; but indifference to the better half of 
 humanity is a crime many degrees worse than 
 having no music in you. It is against nature, and
 
 i66 Milesian Opportunities. 
 
 he who is guilty of it must have a shameful hollow 
 in his head where the bump of reverence ought 
 to be. As a rule I never trust that kind of man ; 
 if he has not courage enough for secret, dark, and 
 midnight wickedness, he will usually begin as a 
 cold-blooded sneak, and end as a miser, appropri- 
 ately starving in grimy solitude. Dick was an 
 exception to this law, as to most : I used to won- 
 der how, lacking the saving grace of gyneolatry 
 (or perhaps it would be as well to say in plain 
 English, Woman-worship) he could amount to as 
 much as he did. 
 
 With so much society in range, he had less 
 than before. In a small place like Tackville 
 everybody knows everybody else, and a young 
 man who is not positively bearish perforce takes 
 part in the moderate round of festivities : in Mile- 
 tus there was room for class distinctions, and it 
 was possible not to speak to your neighbor on the 
 street. I suppose he felt the finer atmosphere 
 in his languid way, but thought it no loss to be 
 exempt from social obligations. For the rest, it 
 was not work he objected to, but the looking for 
 it ; his position had the humble advantages of 
 prescribed duties, a monthly stipend, and no 
 office-rent to pay. But its chief attraction in his 
 eyes was that it gave him without cost the peri- 
 odicals and some of the new books, with occasion 
 to read them ; to be paid for following his own 
 tastes was thus far to solve the problem of
 
 Milesian Opportunities. 167 
 
 existence. The invention of printing has been 
 a boon to the lazy and unsocial, in that it assists 
 them to take Life at second hand. Without 
 leaving slippers and easy-chair, one may know 
 what is going on in the street and across the 
 oceans : you may dine at the Russian ambassa- 
 dor's, and note all the types of home and foreign 
 character, yet spare the fatigue of putting on 
 your dress coat and company manners. " Yes," 
 said Dick, when I made a visit of inspection the 
 following spring, "this sort of thing is less of a 
 bore than pupils or law business. People are less 
 uninteresting in books than they usually are in 
 flesh and blood, and less obtrusive ; you can get 
 away from them when you please. Others do the 
 jostling and move the scenery, and you simply 
 observe their activities, note their points, and 
 say what you think of the show. It's more 
 amusing to be spectator than performer." 
 
 " You don't find it exciting, then ? Do you 
 like your work ? " 
 
 " It's well enough, but in no way thrilling. If 
 I were to get excited over it, nobody else would." 
 
 " Then you're not strongly drawn to literature, 
 after all ? " 
 
 " I don't delude myself into the notion that 
 I'm making literature because I write on literary 
 topics. I'm only a hanger-on, a sort of camp- 
 follower. What I do is mere skimmings ; even 
 I don't care to remember it, and why should any 
 one else ? "
 
 1 68 Milesian Opportunities. 
 
 " Still, I should think you'd want to do your 
 best, while you're at it." 
 
 " I do. Not an ideal best, but the best I can 
 now and here, the best the occasion calls for. 
 What I mean is that the circumstances are not 
 stimulating. Newspaper criticism goes for noth- 
 ing, unless in one or two of the New York and 
 Boston dailies. And out here, who expects it? 
 Jandyke flies too high : I doubt if it pays him to 
 keep up my department." 
 
 " Well, don't saw off the limb you're perched 
 on. That's his affair to determine, not yours." 
 
 " Yes, he doesn't ask me for advice. While 
 he keeps faith with me, I will with him, of course. 
 If he wants this work, I do it well enough for the 
 purpose ; but what does it amount to ? What 
 would it amount to, if I were Hazlitt and Taine 
 and Sainte-Beuve rolled into one ? " 
 
 " More than you think, perhaps. You might 
 be discovered and transplanted to bloom in a 
 richer soil and more genial climate." 
 
 "O, I don't know that I'm particularly worth 
 discovering. This is mere prentice work, and very 
 possibly I shall never do anything better." 
 
 " You don't believe that, you know ; not a word 
 of it. So you mean to be an author ? Well, they 
 say in that trade one has to work up from the foot 
 of the ladder." 
 
 "I've begun a rung higher, and omitted re- 
 porting. Yes, if I had an ambition it would be to
 
 Milesian Opportunities. 169 
 
 make books by and by, when I'm older, and 
 know enough." 
 
 " You might be practising now. You have 
 some spare time, haven't you ? " 
 
 " Yes ; not so much as I had at Tackville, but 
 several hours a day. Want to come here and 
 study ? I'll coach you at reduced rates." 
 
 " Don't you write anything beside what you 
 put in the Boomerang? Novels, and stuff for the 
 magazines ? Most people do, I'm told." 
 
 " Far more than is wanted. I marvel at the 
 cheek of those who think themselves fit to in- 
 struct the universe as soon as they are out of 
 school. You and I are mere boys, Bob, though 
 we've been loose several years now and you've 
 seen more than I. Our minds are not mature 
 enough yet to do anything permanent ; we want 
 a lot more experience. How should I write a 
 novel what would I put in it ? I can comment 
 and analyze, perhaps, but not invent ; I have no 
 constructive imagination that I'm aware of. And 
 I've had no adventures : nothing ever happens to 
 me. What have I seen or heard that's worth 
 recording ? " 
 
 "That's because you keep yourself shut up so, 
 and practise your benumbing old theory of Indif- 
 ference. If you would go out like other fellows, 
 and take an interest in events and persons more 
 recent than Socrates, things would happen, and 
 you might collect plenty of literary material.
 
 170 Milesian Opportunities. 
 
 Then you'd have a stock in trade, and be ready 
 to open shop, you see." 
 
 "Thank you: I've no fancy to put my fingers 
 in the fire, that I may be able to tell how they 
 were burned. Do that yourself, if you like." 
 
 " Well, you might look into your heart and 
 write, as somebody advised." 
 
 "That seems to be as empty as the view out- 
 side. What have I ever had to fill it ? I might have 
 had, you say ? It may be bad taste, but I don't 
 admire mock rhapsodies, and engagements made 
 only to be broken, and playing with what ought 
 to be serious. Very possibly I'm prudish and out 
 of date ; but I can't claim the privileges of genius. 
 I'm not a Byron or a Burns or a Goethe, to get 
 up a new love-affair each month." 
 
 " One in a year or two would be enough or 
 even less. You could be perfectly sincere in 
 them, and exquisitely high-minded ; you would, 
 I know. It would be most instructive to see you, 
 and especially so to yourself. You could note 
 down all the symptoms, and analyze the mental 
 processes : it would quite make a man of you. 
 Well, if you wont think of that, can't you at least 
 string rhymes together about the Moon, and the 
 Return of Spring, and such ? The monthlies allow 
 extra rates for poetry; it pays better than prose 
 when you can get it in. You might even thrash 
 the Socratic Idea into metrical shape. Truth and
 
 Milesian Opportunities. 171 
 
 Youth Beauty and Duty Miletus and Epic- 
 tetus : why, I can do it myself." 
 
 " Robert, to stop your eternal catechising, I 
 will throw modesty to the dogs. You keep on 
 insisting that I should do this or that, till I'm 
 forced in self-defence to show you what I have 
 done." He opened a drawer and took out some 
 manuscripts.
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 DROPPING INTO POETRY. 
 
 IF I had suspected what was in that drawer, 
 I would not have sailed so near the wind and 
 tempted Fate thus rashly. 
 
 "You have only yourself to blame for this." 
 he remarked. "To slake your thirst for useless 
 knowledge, and assuage your somewhat blind and 
 random hortatory zeal, I'm going to read you 
 these." 
 
 " Take a short one, Dick ; a very little one will 
 do. I'm a homeopath, you know. Excuse me 
 if I spoke unadvisedly, not knowing how you 
 spent the midnight hours : I didn't mean to pro- 
 voke you to this extent." 
 
 He grinned malignantly, selected what I be- 
 lieve was the worst one of the lot, and with less 
 than is decent of blushing and stammering began 
 to read. 
 
 " Life is a land of dreams 
 We cannot render real, though we try 
 With many bitter tears, and schemes 
 That call on effort and philosophy.
 
 Dropping into Poetry. 1/3 
 
 Between the fool and wise 
 What is there? what between the mean and great? 
 
 For many prosper without eyes, 
 And others' seeing is their griefs estate. 
 
 What due distinction reigns 
 Between Nobility in rags, and Vice 
 
 That is not worth the jailer's chains? 
 Is the world senseless, or are we too nice?" 
 
 " Pause right there," I cried. "The world may 
 be senseless, but there's no doubt whatever about 
 our being too nice a blanked sight, as Rustler 
 would say. What's the good of those conun- 
 drums ? They don't pay for that kind of thing : 
 you couldn't even print it in the Boomerang, 
 except at advertising rates not if you value 
 your present berth." 
 
 "You're off the track, Bob," the bard said 
 coolly. " These humble effusions are not in the 
 market. I don't expect to make anything by 
 them. They're merely to get my hand in and 
 see what I can do, which is very little as yet ; 
 simply practice, as you said just now." 
 
 " Then why not practise on something sensi- 
 ble ? They say the Chinese beggars sit in the 
 streets of Pekin with their bones protruding, and 
 howl just like that thing you read. You're not 
 particularly hard up just now, so far as I see ; 
 and wailing, tuneful or not, hasn't usually been in 
 your line." 
 
 " No, I trust not. You have a literal mind, 
 Bob. Those verses simply represent a mood, and
 
 1/4 Dropping into Poetry. 
 
 exaggerate it, no doubt. We're all liable to be 
 downcast and lachrymose at times, in idle mo- 
 ments ; if we were not, there would be less alleged 
 poetry. The closing stanzas of that are the best, 
 but I'll spare your feelings, since you take it so 
 hard. Here's one that may suit you better." He 
 turned over the leaves, and I again resigned my- 
 self, though really this was pushing Friendship 
 too far. 
 
 " These hopes and dreams of mine shall live, 
 
 Though none on earth should share them, 
 Though Fate delay her crowns to give 
 
 To those who yet shall wear them. 
 Though Time with slow methodic tread 
 
 And silent step moves by me, 
 I feel the garland round my head, 
 
 The hours of glory nigh me! 
 
 It is not time, ungalled by tears, 
 
 That stamps the wrinkles keenly, 
 For some might live a thousand years, 
 
 Yet wear their age serenely; 
 But something in the feeling breast 
 
 That gnaws its fleshly prison, 
 That yearns too bitterly for rest 
 
 And sees too bright a vision. 
 
 And so its light is clouded here 
 
 And broken is its singing, 
 Though caught from that diviner sphere 
 
 Toward which the soul is winging. 
 And ever as it journeys on 
 
 The darkness clings beside it, 
 Till Death beholds the victory won 
 
 That Life so long denied it."
 
 Dropping into Poetry. 175 
 
 " Yes, that is not as bad as the other. I've seen 
 things in print that were not much better than 
 that, really. If you were to turn it over in your 
 mind again, and bring it out in a different shape, 
 digested and compressed The double rhyme is 
 a good deal for you to undertake, don't you think ? 
 ' Prison' and ' vision ' wont do at all. But what's 
 all this about hopes and dreams, and crowns, too ? 
 Are you really after something, and have you 
 concealed the fact all this time ? What are your 
 hopes and dreams, anyway ? " 
 
 " Probably I only dreamed that I had any. 
 That's the outcome of another mood, no more 
 important than the first. Sometimes, you know, 
 it seems as if Life might conceivably be of some 
 account, if circumstances could be wholly changed. 
 And when you write verses you have to project 
 yourself into a poetical frame of mind, and make 
 the most of limited and perishable emotional mate- 
 rials ; that's why it looks so much more serious 
 on paper. Every one has fancies of that kind, 
 I presume except densely practical men like 
 you. I'd like to see you try to go beyond your 
 Duty and Beauty." 
 
 It was plain to me that these lyric efforts meant 
 more than their parent cared to acknowledge, and 
 I was grieved and disgusted by them, especially by 
 the first. But it was not my cue to encourage 
 this downward course, or give even such sympathy 
 as lies in apparent comprehension to questionings
 
 176 Dropping into Poetry. 
 
 that could end in nothing but paralysis, and 
 lamentations which Grafton had always been too 
 manly to utter in his own proper person and in 
 simple prose. His case had been bad enough, but 
 if it were to be complicated with poetical woes and 
 yearnings, I should begin to despair.
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 HOMESICK. 
 
 I SAT thinking what to say next, when he took up 
 his parable, opening as it seemed a new subject. 
 "Bob, I can see now where I made a mistake." 
 
 " If it was one only, you were wiser than most 
 of us. I've made dozens, and so have you, old 
 man a string of them, in sad succession." 
 
 " This was long ago, when I was too young 
 to understand. I ought to have kept the old 
 place." 
 
 " Down there in Maryland ? Why, you always 
 said you hated farming." 
 
 " So I did ; but I might have learned enough of 
 it to manage what was left of the estate. One has 
 to make some sacrifices, and I might better have 
 sacrificed my tastes than my home ; I'm never 
 likely to have another. Even if I had reserved 
 merely the house and a few acres, it would have been 
 something. Birds are plenty there in season, and 
 fish the year round ; with a gun and a rod I could 
 have kept myself alive, and been independent."
 
 178 ' Homesick. 
 
 "But I thought the whole went for debts, and 
 to take you through college." 
 
 " It might have been managed differently, if my 
 guardian had taken the trouble to think for me. 
 As I look at it now, it seems scandalous to have 
 gone through my patrimony as I did. What was 
 the use of those twenty months at law ? And 
 the course that won my B.A. might have been 
 abridged. A year or two in the north, to shake 
 off my rusticity and get a plan of study, and 
 I could have done the rest at home, and be a 
 Grafton still." 
 
 " You are a Grafton still, my boy. The name 
 and the blood don't depend on the soil." 
 
 " You can't understand it, Bob : northerners 
 never do, at least those who camp out in cities. 
 You are a migratory race, we are stationary. 
 When your people for six generations have lived 
 on their own land, you are identified with it, 
 rooted there and to be torn up by the roots is 
 bad for you. How much fun was made of the 
 Virginian 'sacred soil'! Yet that was no mere 
 big talking; the words had a real meaning. The 
 ground may be poor, worn out, dear at three 
 dollars an acre, but that's not the point. Where 
 your fathers are buried and you have played in 
 childhood, where your earliest associations are, 
 reaching back from the days when you began 
 to think and feel, as far as your family history 
 goes that's sacred soil, and he who has it should
 
 Homesick. 1 79 
 
 stand by it, not let it go to strangers as I did. It 
 was no better than sacrilege." 
 
 He laid down his pipe, joined his hands behind 
 his head, and stared at the ceiling, as if he saw 
 the old roof-tree there. I hastened to oppose his 
 antediluvian reflections with some of the wisdom 
 of this world. 
 
 " My dear Dick, all that is utterly unpractical, 
 and you know it. We can't be idling about the 
 rural parts, worshipping old clapboards and grave- 
 stones. We've got to be up and doing, as the 
 poet says ; adding to the resources of this great 
 and glorious land, and making our individual piles. 
 What did you use to say yourself ? It matters 
 little where you live, so it's to some useful 
 purpose to fulfil the end of your being, and get 
 on in life." 
 
 " You never heard me say that last part of it. 
 And as far as that goes, only a small fraction of 
 us do get on in life ; the vast majority appear only 
 to get off. What's the use of my trailing pain- 
 fully over half the continent to make a failure ? 
 I could have done that as well at Grafton Manor, 
 as those before me did." 
 
 " Exactly ; that's about all you or they could do 
 there. I want you to make a success, whether 
 here or in the East. You have the brains for it, 
 and the grit, if you would only make a rational 
 use of them." 
 
 " We define ' rational ' differently, Bob. I can't
 
 1 80 Homesick. 
 
 join in this everlasting hymn to the few who have 
 made their million. How did they do it? By 
 narrowing and sharpening the mind to a hatchet 
 edge, indurating the conscience, deadening the 
 heart, and sinking the soul. What did they do 
 with it ? Left it to their sons to spend in gam- 
 bling-hells and places worse yet. It's better to 
 dwindle and snuff out as we did on the Chesa- 
 peake." 
 
 " We're not all as bad as that, Dick. Look at 
 Mr. De Grout. My father wasn't a millionaire, 
 but he belonged to the class you're condemning. 
 You don't mean him." 
 
 " No, no, Bob." He grasped my hand, and we 
 sat a minute or two in silence. This was a tender 
 spot, for my parents had died while I was abroad, 
 about the time Dick finished his law at Hector; 
 he had been in our house more than once, and met 
 Christian treatment there. 
 
 Presently we shook ourselves : men are not fond 
 of sentiment, at least not of wasting it on one 
 another. " How long have you had these notions 
 about the old place, Dick ? " 
 
 " They came too late to act on, of course. Only 
 since I've been in the West, to speak of ; but they 
 grew on me every day." 
 
 " That's a pity, for, as you say, you can't act on 
 them ; and if you could, what on earth would you 
 do down there ? " 
 
 " Escape from the crowd from the noise and
 
 Homesick. 1 8 1 
 
 dust of the struggle for existence ; from the pres- 
 sure of base needs and the contact of baser 
 motives ; from standards that I can't accept, and 
 aspirations that degrade, and a routine that appears 
 to me as objectless as the life I would lead appears 
 to you. The Manor, half-ruined as no doubt it is, 
 would be a haven of refuge, and more. You can't 
 understand how wood and earth and water can be 
 to a man as a mother or a wife. If I still owned 
 the place, it might even be a motive to work, so 
 that I could free the acres, repair the house, and 
 ultimately go back there to stay." 
 
 " Well then, work, make a fortune, and buy 
 it in." 
 
 " No sir. The tie is broken, don't you see ? If 
 I could do it, which I can't, I should spoil what 
 there is of me in the process, and not be fit to live 
 there. Careless unthrift might be at home at the 
 Manor, it was, for generations, to my sorrow, 
 but never dishonor, never a spirit soiled by huck- 
 stering." 
 
 I stared at him ; here was heredity with a ven- 
 geance, the foolishness of the fathers reproduced 
 in their descendant. I had thought for years that 
 I knew this man to his foundation : could he, with 
 all his northern culture, with his cool analytic 
 temper, thus suddenly revert to ancestral traits, 
 and blaze up at nothing like an antique landlocked 
 cavalier ? If his heart had been touched at last, 
 or his honor but there was no cause whatever
 
 1 82 Homesick. 
 
 for excitement, and he had never talked in this 
 strain before. It was all moonshine about the 
 Manor ; at least he had displayed no undue affec- 
 tion for it while at college, when the recollection 
 of it lay much closer than now. Had his reason 
 fallen into some depth lately opened in his nature ? 
 Had that nature put forth new tendrils of sensi- 
 bility, which reached out for something to twine 
 around, and finding no nearer or more available 
 object, seized wildly on this revised and glorified 
 idea of the Old Home ? That must be the 
 secret of his explosion, I was driven to conclude. 
 So I said, " Old man, that's very morbid, and 
 wholly unjust, as you owned just now : in both 
 qualities it's unlike you. You've been living for 
 ten years on friendly terms with hucksters me, 
 for instance ; why should you fly at our humble 
 pursuits like this ? " 
 
 The volcano appeared to have been exhausted 
 by its solitary outburst, and had become a peace- 
 able mountain again. I might quote that text 
 about a mild answer disarming wrath, but there 
 was no wrath to be disarmed in this case, unless 
 against himself or some less tangible adversary, 
 such as Things in General. 
 
 He smiled. " True as Tupper, Bob, and I 
 meant no reflection on you or anybody ; only you 
 run me pretty hard, and the worst of it is, there's 
 some sense in what you say. My position is quite 
 indefensible, no doubt, in your eyes, and not much
 
 Homesick. 183 
 
 to brag of in my own ; such as it is, I'll try to 
 explain it. The bump of locality used to figure 
 on all phrenological charts. It's a poor word, but 
 it indicates a real part or passion of our nature ; 
 see The Old Oaken Bucket, Gray's Ode on Eton, 
 and so forth. You can't form these attachments 
 except in the country. Who cares for a city 
 house or streets ? They serve only mechanical 
 uses ; no hallowed associations cluster round them. 
 And the basis for the feeling is laid in very early 
 life ; beyond that, it's mainly retrospective. The 
 boy feels it after he has left home ; while he was 
 there, being there seemed a matter of course. It 
 may make a poor showing on cold analysis ; but it's 
 something powerful and precious. O yes, distance 
 lends enchantment ; it's in the region of imagina- 
 tion and sentiment, scorned of the practical. But 
 these more ethereal faculties belong to our finer 
 part ; in this gross and shifting American life 
 they are being blunted and lost. No use for 
 them ? There you're mistaken. You see, a man 
 needs ties and an anchorage. Most of you have 
 these supplied somehow by nature for a while, and 
 when you are older, you find them in your busi- 
 ness and domestic relations. Found your own 
 family, make your own fortune, build your own 
 house ; that's the modern idea. It's not mine ; 
 my roots go too far into the past. A house you 
 build for yourself is merely for the body, good to 
 eat and sleep in ; the soul takes no shelter there.
 
 1 84 Homesick. 
 
 I ought to have lived as my father did, a pastoral 
 recluse ; it's all I'm fit for. Ask Jandyke, and he'll 
 tell you that I make no progress, and never will. 
 Whether it be law, or teaching, or writing, I 
 bear my part in a routine in which I see no point 
 or profit, except that it pays my board bill. I can't 
 help questioning the value of my own work, and 
 that of most. What does it all amount to ? " 
 
 " Dick, you make it worse than it is. We 
 thought a good deal of you at Yale; the De 
 Grouts, and Van Snoozer, and some others. Mrs. 
 Claybank told me they were more than satisfied 
 with the progress of those boys you coached at 
 Tackville. Rustler said you could do something 
 at law if you would ; he wanted you for a partner, 
 you know. And I dare say some people care for 
 what you write now in the Boomerang as long 
 as you let poetry alone. You shoot the arrow ; 
 you can't tell where it hits. You sow the seed, 
 and then you don't wait to see the crop, but jump 
 to the conclusion that it will be no good. If you 
 could have more faith now, and take an interest in 
 things " 
 
 "That's just what I can't do. When I do my 
 best, and it comes to nothing, am I to lie about it, 
 and delude myself into the notion that it's some- 
 thing fine ? Is it your fault if you're so consti- 
 tuted that you can't help seeing things as they 
 are, with no halo about them ? I didn't make 
 them so, nor ordain these limitations and incon-
 
 .Homesick. 185 
 
 gruities and hindrances. I can go on in this 
 way as I am, indefinitely, I suppose, and keep my 
 head above water, and not growl audibly except 
 when you come and poke me up ; but as I told 
 you, I've no anchorage. I belonged to the old ship 
 Grafton Manor : she was supposed to be founder- 
 ing, and I stupidly left her, and went off alone in 
 a cockleshell. So here I am adrift, without chart 
 or compass, or any particular port to make for. 
 That's the state of the case, and I don't see how 
 it's to be mended." 
 
 I sat meditating. " Dick, if I could buy back 
 the Manor " 
 
 "Then it would be yours, and an extremely 
 poor investment. No gain by that, since it 
 wouldn't be mine and never will. I'm not a 
 beggar yet, old man. While I have health, and a 
 tolerable conscience, and a fair sort of fourth-rate 
 brain good enough for journeyman's work of 
 the disregarded kinds, though not fit, as Rustler 
 says, for taking contracts I'll hardly need to 
 come on my friends. It's not your funeral, dear 
 boy : you're all right, a man of the time. I'm 
 not, unluckily ; but I presume my case might be 
 worse."
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 MR. JANDYKE'S VIEWS. 
 
 THE next day I privately interviewed Mr. 
 Jandyke, and found him a very fair man for an 
 editor, and quite sufficiently frank. He knew who 
 I was, and naturally said things to me he would 
 not to a subordinate. " I have no fault to find 
 with Mr. Grafton," he remarked, with dignity ; 
 " not the slightest. He has done the work for 
 which I engaged him, and most creditably. His 
 legal reports are clear and accurate, and have 
 in several cases won recognition in high quarters. 
 He might return to practice with fair prospects, 
 if if he cared for it ; but he does not, as you 
 must be aware. Literature seems more to his 
 taste ; his criticisms are far beyond anything ever 
 before attempted in Miletus. In this respect he 
 has entirely met my requirements, and even given 
 tone to the paper, I may say. There has been no 
 such chance as I thought there might be to chip 
 into our school management ; but his educational 
 views are sound and progressive, and forcibly put
 
 Mr. Jandykes Views. 187 
 
 on occasion. In fact, from the vigor with which 
 they were expressed at that examination I'm 
 leaking now, but I see you know all about it and 
 from the way he stood up for his own notions 
 against Grinder, I was perhaps led to form 
 expectations which have not been realized. He 
 is not so combative as I supposed ; his zeal 
 appears to be for theories, not for interests. 
 Let him alone, and he's meek as Moses. Not 
 that I complain : any disappointment I may have 
 felt was my private affair, not affecting the 
 contract. He has kept that to the letter, and 
 blamelessly; still you know how things are, 
 Mr. T. There's always something beyond the 
 contract expected of a man ; and that's where 
 Grafton falls short. I don't mean anything you 
 can put your finger on : he's faithful and reliable, 
 and wholly free from the loose habits which 
 sometimes discredit the profession in its younger 
 members. He never neglects his work but his 
 heart doesn't seem to be in it. He has plenty of 
 mental margin, I think, but he keeps it to himself ; 
 we don't get the benefit of it. I'm sorry, for 
 he's the loser in the end, necessarily, and I like 
 him. Some men, with such an opening as this, 
 would have forged ahead made themselves 
 indispensable to the paper in other ways, or found 
 outside channels of usefulness. There's plenty 
 of room in Miletus for those who push ; but that's 
 not Grafton, you know. He has made very few
 
 1 88 Mr. Jandykes Views. 
 
 acquaintances beyond the office ; seems content 
 with his own company and when a man feels 
 that way, nobody wants to intrude, unless there's 
 something to be made off of him. With all his 
 quietness, there's a sort of lordly air about him, 
 as if he hadn't been born to this sort of thing. 
 Came of old stock, did he, and raised on a planta- 
 tion ? Well, that accounts for it ; rather hampers 
 him, too. A most estimable gentleman, sir ; gives 
 you the idea that he ought to be rich, if he isn't. 
 I've felt that his present post wasn't adequate ; 
 with his talents and attainments, he should 
 command something better but it's not so easy 
 to see exactly where, unless in a country college, 
 or some good quiet library. I think he'd do better 
 East ; they take more stock in ancestry and man- 
 ners there. Here in the West, sir, we all have to 
 come to bed rock, and keep wide awake and stirring. 
 To tell you the truth, I have some thoughts of 
 selling out and going to Chicago ; that's the 
 place for a live man, sir. I should probably have 
 no use for Grafton there, and my successor might 
 not appreciate his services here as I do ; few 
 would, in fact. I've not mentioned it to him, for 
 nothing is settled yet. I'd be sorry to lose him 
 while I run the Boomerang, but don't wish to stand 
 in his light, in view of these possibilities, if any- 
 thing else offers ; and he ought to be East, as I 
 said. His experience here will be money in his 
 pocket, if he likes to go on with this kind of
 
 Mr. Jandykes Views. 189 
 
 work ; and I'll be glad to certify to his ability and 
 character as shown under me." 
 
 An idea struck me. " If you wouldn't mind 
 writing a line now, Mr. Jandyke, to say what he's 
 done here and how he did it, I may be able to use 
 it for him." The editor graciously complied, and 
 I went home with the paper in my pocket.
 
 BOOK THIRD. 
 
 THE OAKLANDS EPISODE.
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 BACK TO GOTHAM. 
 
 THERE is plenty of literary work to be done in 
 New York, from pennyalining up. True, more 
 than a sufficient number of people are always 
 ready to do it, and additional thousands to come 
 in and try ; but still there should be room for a 
 young fellow with a facile pen, a modicum of 
 experience, economic habits, and no incumbrances. 
 A three-story brain and esoteric views may be 
 dubious advantages to such a one, or even handi- 
 caps in beginning the race, and I knew that Dick 
 would be imbecile to make his way in a strange 
 city Chicago or St. Louis would be vastly worse 
 for him than Tackville ; but with some sort of 
 position secured, and a few friends to invite him 
 to dinner and look after him in case of accidents, 
 I thought he might in time become a moderately 
 useful member of society. So I sought some 
 acquaintances who were familiar with the trade 
 that depends on manufactures of ink and paper, 
 showed them Mr. Jandyke's testimonial, and pre-
 
 194 Back to Gotham, 
 
 vailed on them to bestir themselves on Grafton's 
 behalf. Not to burden my page with details 
 which he who benefited by them never deigned 
 to inquire into, the end was that inducements 
 were offered that is the polite way of putting 
 it, though his new employers thought such amen- 
 ities unnecessary which brought the wanderer 
 back to the Atlantic coast in early summer. 
 
 He appeared glad of the change. "This is 
 your doing, I suppose," he said. " I've submitted 
 to your guidance at last, you see." 
 
 " I hope it hasn't involved too great a sacrifice. 
 Was it hard to tear yourself away from the free 
 and boundless West ? You think you wont pine 
 for the prairies ? " 
 
 " Not I. You know why I went there, and why 
 I stayed so long; it has been merely a five-years' 
 camping out. There may be more for me to do 
 here ; but I don't love big cities, aud it seems 
 absurd for me to live in Gotham. Why, my room- 
 rent will cost four dollars a week more than it did 
 in Miletus." 
 
 " What if it does ? You can earn an extra two 
 hundred a year. It's rather funny for you to 
 be grudging small outlays, Dick." 
 
 " It's rather necessary for me to live within my 
 small income ; I wish my father had thought so. 
 Expenses will mount up, I'm afraid, meals and 
 all." 
 
 " You'll soon learn the ropes ; lots of fellows
 
 Back to Gotham. 195 
 
 can show you. We expect you to dinner Sundays, 
 and three times a week at least. The De Grouts 
 want you, too." 
 
 " O no, Bob ; the less of that the better. You'll 
 not see me often, for I'll have to work hard now. 
 The difference is as great as it was six years ago ; 
 greater, because I have nothing to show, and then 
 there was a possibility I might. I don't mind you, 
 but I don't want to be mixed up with others." 
 
 " Do you propose to be a hermit-crab, here in 
 the great heart of the metropolis, amid the teem- 
 ing millions? That's not the way to do it. If 
 you're going to write, you've got to gather mate- 
 rials, and keep your eyes open ; to mix with soci- 
 ety, continue your observations, and see what's 
 going on. You can't stay in a corner by your- 
 self." 
 
 " I shall meet men like myself, no doubt, who 
 are at the same kind of work ; they can tell me 
 most. For the other sort, it wont do ; you know 
 my way is best for me." 
 
 The shrinking pride of a reduced gentleman 
 whether the reduction was practised on his own 
 person or those of his progenitors is not exactly 
 an object for contempt, misplaced and unremu- 
 nerative as it may be. I have known a poor stu- 
 dent to decline a supper like Chatterton in the 
 play, though his would-be helpers had contrived 
 their best to coat the pill. Perhaps he was right : 
 he had his soul to save, his self-respect to keep
 
 196 Back to Gotham. 
 
 alive under pressing difficulties, in his own way. 
 That was more important than the body, and he 
 was the only judge of how to do it. Probably what 
 stood in place of conscience told him it was better 
 to go hungry than to receive what was at bottom 
 charity, however delicately offered. So it was 
 with Grafton, except that he had thus far been in 
 no very near danger of literal starvation, and had 
 progressed far enough mentally to accept any 
 kindness that came in the shape of work if he 
 did not see your hand in it too plainly. 
 
 I noted with regret that he had learned no fur- 
 ther wisdom ; but he did not succeed in wholly 
 evading the De Grouts. They were curious 
 people, and even their high position did not shield 
 them from the reproach of eccentricity. Genera- 
 tions of increasing wealth had not taught them 
 to measure men only or chiefly by the dollar 
 standard. The mother cherished intimacies with 
 several persons who were wholly out of society ; 
 and the daughter, with the parental approval and 
 uncalled-for curtness, had refused one of the great- 
 est matches in New York, because of certain tales 
 which I need not here repeat. For the cardinal 
 virtues and for benefits once conferred they had 
 an equal and antique regard ; and according to 
 them my luckless friend had in his uncalculating 
 and aimless way been a benefactor. I had been 
 careful to warn them of Dick's expected advent, 
 and the son Clinton, now a correct junior partner,
 
 Back to Gotham. 197 
 
 caught him at my house before he had been 
 twenty-four hours in town. From what pitfalls 
 and gaping jaws this youth had been rescued long 
 before I never precisely heard; but he met his 
 alleged rescuer, on his own account with that 
 demonstrative regard for which college fellowship 
 gives excuse in after years (on the infrequent occa- 
 sions when it is wanted), and with more than cor- 
 diality on that of the family. They were at their 
 country place on the Hudson, he explained, and 
 there desired Dick to join them. 
 
 " In fact, you're to go up with me this after- 
 noon ; I'm sent for that express purpose, and you 
 can't get out of it. The governor doesn't like to 
 be crossed, as I know by sad experience in the 
 past : I never try it now, and you'd better not. 
 You're an old friend whom we've not seen for an 
 age ; they want you at once, for a week at least. 
 O, you can begin business when you come back ; 
 take a little pure air first. You used to be a 
 rare hand to pull a fellow out of a hole ; don't 
 push me into one now. I'll get a wigging if I 
 don't bring you." 
 
 Grafton hemmed and hawed, but could not 
 escape without ungraciousness. He had arrived 
 ahead of time, and was not to report for duty till 
 the following week : his only real reason for 
 eluding this urgent friendship, as too embarras- 
 singly advantageous, scarcely admitted of open 
 statement, So he compromised on the next day,
 
 198 Back to Gotham. 
 
 which was an unlucky Friday, and committed 
 himself to his old pupil's care with many mis- 
 givings, intending to return early Monday morn- 
 ing.
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 IN THE GLEN. 
 
 HE stayed longer than he had meant to, de- 
 tained by circumstances not under his control. 
 The most tame and decorous natures probably 
 hide a lurking love for the unusual, the romantic, 
 and more unheroic men than Dick have been 
 thrust into a hero's part. He had said to me, 
 neither in boasting nor lamentation, but I thought 
 with a half conscious tone of regret, that no 
 adventures ever fell to his lot. Fate now deter- 
 mined to make amends for this neglect, in a way 
 that should mingle sweet with bitter. Going no 
 further than it did at the moment, most men of 
 Grafton's age and condition would willingly have 
 had this episode for their own, and seen it length- 
 ened by an appropriate sequel. 
 
 It was not my privilege to partake of the fatted 
 calf spread for the prodigal at Oaklands, so I will 
 not pretend to tell you what terms of endearment 
 the host and hostess lavished upon him, nor how 
 many wines were on the table. They were tem-
 
 2OO /;/ the Glen. 
 
 perate people, and I judge that Clinton under his 
 father's eye assuaged thirst in moderation. But 
 for what happened the next day I do not depend 
 on the newspapers, which gave but garbled ac- 
 counts. A party was made up to explore a glen 
 some miles from the house, and Miss Edith was 
 committed to Dick's care. I am sure he did not 
 seek the honor, for he never had any sense about 
 such matters ; he would rather talk to an old lady 
 or to some destitute wallflower than to an attrac- 
 tive girl, especially if she had five or six figures 
 to her credit. But this time it was all arranged, 
 and he could not help himself. 
 
 He might have felt safe enough with her, for 
 she was twenty-three now, and as stately as her 
 mother; but then she was very handsome, with 
 a classic profile and an exquisitely turned neck, 
 and eyes that could go through you on occasion 
 and make you feel queer and disagreeable. I 
 never saw them perform this exercise, but it was 
 said they operated thus upon Gander when he 
 proposed to her, and on several men who had 
 made unadvised efforts to establish a footing. 
 " Dem it," De Shyster once observed at the 
 club, " what does she mean by it ? I merely 
 remarked that her eyes were like the stars of 
 heaven on a dark blue night, and if a feller had 
 'em to shine on his lonely path right along it 
 would be good for him, you know ; and then she 
 up and glared at me." I do not believe she glared
 
 In the Glen. 201 
 
 at Grafton during their ride, and he certainly gave 
 her no occasion for so doing. He probably left 
 her to support most of the conversation, and gave 
 his mind to the horse, an animal with whose traits 
 he was unfamiliar ; but he managed to keep the 
 road, and what occurred afterwards was really not 
 his fault. Arrived at their destination, the party 
 broke up into pairs, as is usual on such expedi- 
 tions ; there was a waterfall to see, and what 
 not. 
 
 At this point it would be the correct thing to 
 describe the scenery, which must have gratified 
 Dick, he had been so long without any to speak 
 of ; but most of us know such resorts by heart, 
 and one of them is about like another. The lady 
 and her reluctant cavalier were going along the 
 customary narrow path above the regulation prec- 
 ipice, when she, being of a venturesome and 
 enterprising turn and little afflicted with nerves, 
 stepped to the edge to look down. " Take care," 
 said the prudent Richard; "that's dangerous." 
 The words were hardly out of his mouth when a 
 stone gave way beneath her foot, and over she 
 went. He made a desperate clutch at her and 
 got his right arm about her waist, but there was 
 nothing for his left hand to hold on by, not even 
 a twig or a projecting rock. One shriek resounded 
 through the glen, and was followed by an awful 
 silence. Those who were nearest ran up horror- 
 stricken, and the boldest peered over the verge :
 
 2O2 In the Glen, 
 
 the two bodies lay motionless, not at the bottom 
 of the ravine, but on* a little ledge, barely long 
 enough to receive them (indeed Dick's feet hung 
 over) ten feet below the path. He was under- 
 neath, and she, as soon appeared, entirely pro- 
 tected from the rocks by his subrecumbent frame : 
 he being the heavier and keeping tight hold, they 
 had reversed positions in the air and struck the 
 ground in that desirable though unbecoming atti- 
 tude. The distance was just enough to swing 
 around in, and a good jumper might have taken 
 the leap with little risk ; but coming down on his 
 back with a hundred and thirty pounds on top of 
 him knocked the breath pretty well out of this 
 unwilling athlete, and he lay as if dead. Edith 
 had simply fainted from the horror of the fall ; 
 which, if a lady must tumble over cliffs, is the 
 most rational thing she can do after so reprehen- 
 sible a first step. 
 
 It was not easy to approach them, but some of 
 the men did it by going well around and climbing 
 up from the bed of the stream on hands and 
 knees. When they reached the shelf, after five 
 anxious minutes, Edith was kneeling there was 
 just room for that with a very white face but 
 all her wits about her; one hand was on Dick's 
 heart, the other behind his head. I knew several 
 men who would willingly have been in Grafton's 
 place then, and taken his chances of recovery and 
 of what might come after.
 
 In the Glen, 203 
 
 " He's alive/' she said to her brother, whose 
 hat now appeared at the level of the ledge, while 
 the rest of him was groping for a foothold on the 
 cliff's side. " Send for help and for a doctor, 
 quick." 
 
 " How are you, Edith ? Can you walk ? We 
 must get you out of this first." 
 
 " No. I can go where you do, but I shall stay 
 here till he is removed, of course." 
 
 Young De Grout found a scanty footing higher 
 up, raised his arms and body to his sister's side, 
 and proceeded to fumble over the prostrate shape. 
 " No bones seem to be broken, but it's a devil of a 
 place to get him out of. Excuse me, Mrs. Tom- 
 kyns, I didn't see you were there." The female 
 contingent of the party, fortunately not numerous, 
 was now on the path above, whence ejaculations 
 of sympathy and awe descended. " You'd better 
 go back, ladies ; we'll have to haul him up just 
 where you are. Thanks, no, we don't need you 
 on this spot ; it's not well adapted for gatherings, 
 and you couldn't very conveniently get here, nor up 
 again. Lookout there, Smithers" to a gentle- 
 man who stumbled half-way down, and dislodged 
 a quantity of shale, which went clattering into the 
 brook : " we don't want any more accidents just 
 now. Call the darkies, please, and send for rein- 
 forcements. Hi, Cicero" as the coachman's 
 staring face was seen above " run to the nearest 
 house, get all the ropes they have, and a few men
 
 204 In the Glen. 
 
 if you can. Send one on a fast horse, or with 
 Polly and the buggy, for Dr. Jakes. Come back 
 at once with the ropes ; mind, now. Anything 
 else, sis ? " 
 
 It may have been early training, inherited capa- 
 bility, or both, but those two young people ordered 
 all that was done, while others, who had but a 
 general human interest in the matter, pottered 
 about, offered impossible advice, and were of no 
 use at all. After a woful half-hour, Dick opened 
 his eyes with a groan, which he cut short on 
 beholding the ministering spirit by his side. She 
 had been pouring brandy down his throat and 
 doing what else the case admitted : it was not a 
 good spot to get supplies to, but her brother had a 
 flask in his pocket. 
 
 "You're not hurt?" Dick asked, faintly. 
 "Then it's all right." He attempted to rise, but 
 fell back. 
 
 " Easy now, old man," said Clinton. " I'm 
 doctor, till a better comes. You keep still, and do 
 as you're bid." 
 
 The long and short of it was that this com- 
 mander trussed him with ropes, and the men 
 above pulled him up ; he was able to use his hands 
 enough to keep from rubbing against the cliff in 
 his ascent. Arrived there, he tried to walk, but 
 found it impossible, so they carried him along 
 the path, which was ill suited to such exercises. 
 Seeing him safely started, Edith with her brother's
 
 In the Glen. 205 
 
 aid clambered down the ravine, and mounted in 
 a less impregnable part of it. As soon as they 
 got home, Clinton, fearing internal injuries, tele- 
 graphed to his father, to their family physician, 
 and to me as Dick's next friend and presumed 
 executor, and we all reached Oakland s before 
 dark. By this time it was tolerably well settled 
 that the patient was in no great danger ; but 
 though little blood was shed and no bones frac- 
 tured, his rear was one mass of bruises from neck 
 to ankles, and his head and arms were pretty well 
 scratched. The eminent professional man from 
 New York approved the local practitioner's treat- 
 ment (they always do, I believe), and said the 
 invalid must be kept quiet and undisturbed that 
 night ; everything depended upon that.
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 EMBARRASSING. 
 
 I WILL say for Miss Edith that she appeared 
 much ashamed and disgusted : her usual serenity 
 had vanished at finding herself responsible for 
 such a catastrophe. " It is a wretched business," 
 she said very frankly, " all but Mr. Grafton's part 
 of it. He saved my life, I suppose, or near it, and 
 at the risk of his own. But one doesn't like to be 
 under such obligations to anybody, even to him. 
 I wish he had let me fall off by myself, if I had to 
 do such a stupid thing. I don't see what possessed 
 me. Now I presume you and he and the rest will 
 think I'm in the habit of posing for tragic melo- 
 drama. It's perfectly sickening." 
 
 "Well," said I, somewhat dismayed, for this 
 was not the mental condition I desired to see in 
 her, " it wasn't exactly his fault, you know : he 
 didn't mean to offend you. And he's the last man 
 to presume on a mere accident, or indeed ever 
 allude to it. I'm awfully sorry you have all this 
 bother with him just now: I'd take him away
 
 Embarrassing. 207 
 
 to-night if he was fit ; I know he'd rather go, and 
 not be a burden here. You see he just happened 
 to be on hand, and he really couldn't help it." 
 
 " O, thank you," she flashed back ; " I don't 
 need to be reminded that it was all my fault. Do 
 you think that makes it any pleasanter? We 
 insisted on the man's coming here, whether he 
 would or not, and before he had time to turn 
 round and see how New York had changed during 
 his long absence ; and then the first thing I must 
 go and pull him over a precipice. Fine hospitality 
 this is ; much as if Clifton were to ask you to 
 dinner and then spring at you from behind the 
 door with a club. I wish he would pay his own 
 debts : this is what comes of getting into scrapes 
 at college." 
 
 I actually did not know what to say : I was 
 afraid to look at her, lest I should encounter one 
 of those demolishing glances I had heard of. But 
 she did not go into hysterics, and presently she 
 calmed down a little. " As you are in Mr. Graf- 
 ton's confidence, I wish you would explain to him 
 that I do not make a practice of falling off heights 
 and requiring gentlemen to jump after me. I 
 never did it before, and can promise solemnly that 
 I never will again." 
 
 Dick on his side was equally out of humor; I 
 have rarely known him so nearly to approach 
 profane language. "This is a beastly mess, Bob. 
 The doctor says I can't get out of here in a week.
 
 208 Embarrassing. 
 
 Confound it, I wish I had staid with you, as I 
 wanted to." 
 
 " Richard, this is an unhallowed frame of mind. 
 Would you rather have attended Miss Edith's 
 funeral than lie in bed a day or two ? You ought 
 to be glad to bear a few bruises for the sake of 
 saving such a girl as that." 
 
 " That's all bosh. At least, I would rather take 
 the hurts than let her or any woman have them, 
 of course ; but there wasn't any saving. We just 
 turned a somerset in the air like two fools, and 
 came down on a shelf of rock; a fine figure 
 we must have cut. There was no sense in it at 
 all." 
 
 "Anyway, she says you probably saved her 
 life." 
 
 " I didn't. It was only a little way down, and 
 if she had a taste for going off just there she 
 might have done it alone with hardly any risk. 
 But with my pulling her about, and our joint 
 weight, it became more dangerous. Yet I couldn't 
 let her go by herself, you see, if only for the name 
 of it. I had no time to think, and it would have 
 done no good if I'd had an hour, unless to per- 
 suade her to keep away from the edge. The doc- 
 tor calls it a lucky accident, but I call it a dismally 
 ridiculous one." 
 
 "She's hugely vexed about that, and about 
 getting you in the scrape ; wanted me to assure 
 you she didn't do it on purpose, and isn't in the
 
 Embarrassing. 209 
 
 habit of such. But others take a different view ; 
 they think you did a big thing, like Curtius and 
 Theseus and all those historical preservers. Pre- 
 pare to see your gallantry blazoned in the papers, 
 and to be coddled as a wounded hero." 
 
 This prospect increased his irritation, and he 
 was inveighing against his predicament and things 
 at large, when the doctor came in and looked 
 sharply at him, and then at me. " Here, this 
 wont do. I thought you had more sense, Mr. 
 T. ; don't you see he's feverish ? No more con- 
 versation to-night, Mr. Grafton ; take this dose, 
 and go to sleep." And he bundled me out of the 
 room. 
 
 It was not an enjoyable evening, for every one 
 was excited and nervous. Mrs. De Grout had 
 been overcome by the news of her daughter's 
 danger and deliverance, and her husband wa,s 
 worried over Graf ton's injuries. Clinton and I 
 went out, ostensibly to look over the stables, and 
 he said, "You want to see where that thing hap- 
 pened, don't you ? Well, we'll get up at sunrise, 
 and either ride or drive, as you prefer. I'll lend 
 you some old clothes and heavy boots, for it will 
 be wet, and we'll have to climb around. I want 
 to make some observations." 
 
 " All right. But what do you start so early 
 for?" 
 
 " So that we can do it on the quiet, and be back 
 and dressed as usual before breakfast. To-mor-
 
 2 1 o Em barrassing. 
 
 row's Sunday, you know, and mother might 
 object." 
 
 I agreed, and we turned in early. I had offered 
 to sit up with Grafton, but they would not hear of 
 it ; said there was a reliable manservant in the 
 next room to watch, and the doctor within call. 
 
 I shuddered when I beheld the place of the 
 catastrophe ; but for that little shelf, they would 
 have gone down sixty feet, bumping over rocks 
 two-thirds of the way. " See this break in the 
 edge?" said Clinton; "here's where the ground 
 gave way under Edith. He stood where you are. 
 Now look down all fours first, or we may go 
 over, too. By Jove, I thought so ! " 
 
 What he thought you will soon learn. We had 
 brought pencils and paper and some ropes; we 
 surveyed the ground, which was adapted neither 
 to architectural nor agricultural uses, and made 
 some measurements, returning in time to assist at 
 family prayers. Mr. De Grout was strong on the 
 doctrine of every man being a priest in his own 
 household : he alluded in affecting terms to the 
 events of yesterday, and I gathered from his peti- 
 tion that our patient was better, which proved to 
 be the case. After a while he went to church, 
 but all the others begged off. Thanks to repose 
 and arnica, Dick's condition was so far improved 
 that the doctor said he might be taken down- 
 stairs ; as soon as he had seen this done, Galen 
 departed for his city rounds, enjoining prudence
 
 Embarrassing. Ill 
 
 and patience. His reproof to me the night before 
 meant nothing but professional pompousness ; 
 they always make the most of their cases, except 
 when these are serious, and then you die before 
 they give you notice to prepare.
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 CLINTON EXPLAINS. 
 
 WE arranged the invalid in state on a lounge, 
 and gathered round him. After the requisite 
 civilities had been administered, Clinton coughed 
 to attract attention. " Ahem. As this is a day 
 set apart from secular cares for praise, instruction, 
 and inward improvement, it will be well to review 
 a recent occurrence, that each person present may 
 the better comprehend his or her reasons for 
 thanksgiving or penitence, and the relation in 
 which she or he stands to other members of this 
 select circle, with the resulting duties of gratitude, 
 respect, affection, or possibly the contrary." 
 
 He paused impressively ; his mother looked at 
 him in surprise, his sister spoke. " We understand 
 all that well enough ; do let Mr. Grafton alone." 
 
 " I shall commit no such injustice," the orator 
 resumed ; " if the country at large neglects his 
 fame, this humble hearthstone shall cherish it. 
 You needn't stop me, mother ; I'm coming to the 
 point now. The hand of Providence has brought
 
 Clinton Explains. 213 
 
 him here, from far away in the wild and wondrous 
 West, where his muscles have been toughened 
 and his soul uplifted to deeds of derring-do. You 
 see, when a young woman will go about falling 
 over precipices, it's important to have on hand a 
 big, strong, brave man who can at least mitigate 
 the consequences and break the fall." 
 
 If Galen had stayed, it was not I he would 
 have had to rebuke this time. His patient was 
 very red, and so wrought upon that he even 
 forgot to choose expressions suitable to the pre- 
 sence of ladies. " Let up on that, Clint. I 
 can't thwack you as I used to, and it's mean to 
 take advantage of my helplessness. Drop it, do, 
 or I'll go back to bed.'" 
 
 " You can't. Father's out, and the doctor's 
 gone, so I'm in charge. What you want is cheer- 
 ful and improving conversation : keep still, and 
 you'll get it." 
 
 Edith frowned at her brother, and then sighed 
 and appeared to resign herself to the inevitable : 
 I suppose she knew what he was capable of, and 
 when he was beyond control. The mother made 
 a feeble effort. " You must not annoy our friend, 
 Clinton. And are you sure what you have to say 
 befits the time ? " 
 
 " Positively. Annoy him ? No ; it's just the 
 tonic he needs, the gentle stimulant to put him on 
 his feet again. He must get used to the sound of 
 his own praises. The illustrated papers will no
 
 214 Clinton Explains. 
 
 doubt send artists here to-morrow, to sketch the 
 ravine and the ledge, and take portraits of the 
 principal actors. I shall give them my last photo, 
 mother the one you said was my best ; they can 
 print me from that. You'd better do your hair up 
 to-night, sister ; they may come by the early train. 
 Grafton looks most interesting as he is, but I'm 
 not sure we oughtn't to put a patch on his manly 
 brow, for increased effect. He shows no traces of 
 his leap except a poetic pallor, which the artists 
 wont be able to catch ; he differs from the ancient 
 warriors in this, that his wounds are not in front." 
 
 There was another pause ; Edith looked bored, 
 Dick embarrassed, and Mrs. De Grout very grave. 
 " I think we ought not to speak lightly of so 
 serious a topic, my son ; least of all you, for whom 
 Mr. Grafton did so much, long ago. I cannot talk 
 of what he has done for us now. But for him " 
 Her voice broke, tears came into her eyes. 
 
 Dick too was much distressed. " My dear 
 madam, you exaggerate enormously ; indeed you 
 do. The thing is not worth a second thought. 
 I've given more trouble than I've done good ; in 
 fact, I was rather in the way. As I told Bob 
 here, last night, as soon as I saw him, if Miss 
 Edith had been alone, she might have escaped 
 harm altogether, and merely had to climb down 
 the rest of the way ; and then she wouldn't have 
 been bothered with me. At worst she would have 
 got a few scratches, as I did."
 
 Clinton Explains. 215 
 
 The sense of justice which is so strong in a few 
 women here impelled Edith to touch a distasteful 
 subject. " You forget what prevented my receiv- 
 ing any injury at all. And in supposing the other 
 case, you exaggerate, whether mother did just 
 now or not. If I had fallen exactly as you did, I 
 should have been hurt, but less than you were, for 
 I would have had no weight upon me." Her 
 mounting color belied the coldness of her voice, 
 but could not check her testimony. I looked at 
 her in silent admiration. Most men would have 
 envied that obtuse icicle Dick, who merely turned 
 his head away. 
 
 Clinton now claimed another hearing. " Sister, 
 your conduct is shameless. After bringing all 
 this trouble upon us, and causing your gallant 
 rescuer to be plastered from head to foot and laid 
 on his back, where he never was before since 
 infancy except in the peaceful hours assigned to 
 slumber, you calmly split hairs over his prowess, 
 and would fix to an ounce the weight of his 
 services. I mentioned penitence as one exercise 
 appropriate to the day ; that was for your benefit. 
 The rest of us have done nothing to be ashamed 
 of, but you ought to put on sackcloth and ashes. 
 The very least you can do is to register a solemn 
 vow, here in the presence of the victim of your 
 propensity and of this goodly company, not to fall 
 over any more precipices." 
 
 " She's done that already," I hastened to depose.
 
 216 Clinton Explains. 
 
 " She promised me that, last night, out of her own 
 head, without any asking. So you might be easy 
 with her now, if she is your sister." 
 
 " Indeed," said the mother, " I trust this will 
 teach you a lesson, Edith. And you too, Clinton ; 
 you are generally far more reckless than she. 
 One cannot be too careful in such places. My 
 dear, you might have lost your precious life, and 
 destroyed, too, that of one to whom we owed so 
 much before. Your father would scarcely have 
 forgiven you, you could never have pardoned your- 
 self, if Mr. Grafton had been seriously hurt in 
 saving you." 
 
 " My dear lady," Dick interposed, " enough and 
 far too much has been said about this trivial inci- 
 dent. I thought I had shown you that there was 
 no saving, and no service worth mentioning. Of 
 course I should have been glad to be of some use, 
 but I can't flatter myself that I was. If you're 
 going to hold her responsible for the mishap, she 
 would very likely have done better without me." 
 
 " There's where you're out, young man," said 
 Clinton, dropping the ragged remnant of his 
 pulpit tone. " Without you she would have struck 
 the edge of the shelf in passing, and gone clear to 
 the bottom ; that's a nice thing to think of, isn't 
 it ? Where she stood on the path was just above 
 the north end of that ledge ; you were at her left, 
 say two feet south. You pulled her toward you, 
 and changed the direction of the fall enough to
 
 Clinton Explains. 217 
 
 land on the shelf instead of going further. 
 See?" 
 
 " I don't see how you know more about it than 
 I do, since I took part in the performance, and 
 you weren't in sight at the time. Nobody was but 
 Mrs. Tomkyns and the man with her, if I remem- 
 ber." 
 
 Thus spoke the invalid, rather hotly ; but Edith 
 looked pale, and nodded, as if to confirm at least 
 so much of the narrative as dealt with their rela- 
 tive positions. Her mother chimed in. " Yes, 
 my son, how can you be so sure of this ? " 
 
 He put a bold face on it. " Only because I was 
 there this morning before you were up. Having 
 no distressed damsels and wounded heroes to haul 
 over the cliff, Tim and I took notes like a couple 
 of surveyors. If you don't believe me, I'll take you 
 and Edith there to-morrow ; but not Grafton he's 
 had enough of the place." 
 
 " So have I," said his sister. " I wonder that 
 you could go there : I never want to see it again." 
 
 " Clinton ! " broke in his mother severely ; "you 
 went there on the Sabbath ? " 
 
 " It was a work of necessity and mercy, mother; 
 both together, as you should be the first to per- 
 ceive. It was necessary to understand just where 
 we stood, and what we all had to give thanks for; 
 and so we undertook this investigation, not after 
 Edith's pennyweight method, nor in Grafton's 
 way of barren suppositions you always were too
 
 2i 8 Clinton Explains. 
 
 much of a theorist, Dick ; it is the one fault linked 
 to so many virtues but like two experienced and 
 clear-headed men of the world." He bowed to 
 me, and to himself. " This is the up and down of 
 it : he saved your daughter, madam, and my sister 
 not that she deserved it ; and though in so do- 
 ing he didn't risk his own life as much as would 
 have been the case if he had adopted her style and 
 place of falling without revision, still that wasn't 
 his fault, for he hadn't opportunity to examine the 
 ground as fully as we've done since ; so we'll over- 
 look that blemish. Our preserver, accept my 
 blessing ; here's my hand, with my heart in it. 
 This stance is now concluded ; Tim, let's go out 
 and smoke." 
 
 I wondered a little at this boy's coolness in over- 
 riding his elders, as all of us were except Edith, 
 and she but a year his junior; and presently I 
 asked him, " What did you run them so hard for ?" 
 
 " Why," said he, " this kind of thing is apt to be 
 stiff unless you give it the right tone. Mother 
 would have slopped all over Dick if I'd let her, and 
 he and sis both feel awkward. I don't wonder at 
 that ; they must have looked like precious fools, 
 tumbling about in each other's arms." He looked 
 over his shoulder to see if the windows were 
 closed, and burst into a peal of irreverent (and, as 
 I thought, ill-judged) laughter. " There's nothing 
 like free discussion, in a sensible matter-of-fact 
 style, to remove undue solemnity and any little em-
 
 Clinton Explains. 219 
 
 barrassment that may exist, and make everybody 
 feel easy and comfortable ; as you'll see. Besides, 
 we all think the world of Dick, only he's so deuc- 
 edly formal and offish, because we've got spondulix 
 and he hasn't. Now this thing, with these touches 
 I've just given it, ought to make him feel like one 
 of the family. That's what was needed, to get rid 
 of all constraint and be 'omelike and haffable, as 
 the Britishers say. Only I had to do it while dad 
 was out, or he'd have stopped it. He wanted to 
 reach just this point, to domesticate Dick with us ; 
 but bless you, he'd never accomplish it in his 
 Grand Monarch style, nor let me try mine. Now 
 it'll be all right : church is a good thing, some- 
 times." 
 
 I had my doubts whether Clinton's manage- 
 ment was exactly the right thing, either for his 
 sister or for Grafton ; but I was on his premises, 
 and had no right to meddle in his domestic mat- 
 ters. His talents were promising, his motives 
 excellent, and youthful light-heartedness will ex- 
 cuse much ; but I was not sure it would please 
 me to be gone over in that way, supposing I had 
 been practising acrobatic feats in the woods with 
 a young lady, and been painfully battered in con- 
 sequence ; especially if I were poor and proud 
 and unattached and delicate-minded like Dick, 
 and she were a beauty and an heiress and all 
 the rest of it. In that case I think I would 
 have preferred not to talk about the business
 
 220 Clinton Explains. 
 
 at all when the girl was by (unless she insisted 
 on so doing), and certainly not to have sermons 
 preached upon it in the manner of the once cele- 
 brated Dow junior. All efforts toward the ascer- 
 tainment of truth are laudable, but that easy 
 freedom of handling, with its occasional ap- 
 proaches to levity (as Mrs. De Grout hinted) is 
 not suited to all topics, nor yet to all tempera- 
 ments. The boy meant well, but I question 
 whether he did any good, even for the moment. 
 I could not stay to see how his method worked 
 beyond that, for Dick did not need me, and home 
 matters did. 
 
 Clinton and I went down Monday morning, 
 and called on the head of the firm that was to 
 employ Grafton. He knew our names, and re- 
 ceived us blandly ; had seen the accident in the 
 papers, and rejoiced to know that so gallant (and 
 so well befriended) a gymnast had escaped serious 
 injury ; told a story or two that might be sup- 
 posed to bear on the case in hand ; chuckled and 
 ha-haed, and appeared much pleased that one of 
 his young men should be staying at Oaklands 
 and enjoying adventures with the millionaire's 
 daughter ; offered to show us over his establish- 
 ment in person, and favored us with several 
 circulars and prospectuses ; assured us that there 
 should be no difficulty about Dick's work, which 
 could be carried by others as heretofore till he 
 was fit to begin it. " Our business is increasing
 
 Clinton Explains. 221 
 
 daily, we are crowded to the utmost of our great 
 capacity ; but in such a case a point may be 
 strained. Let him complete his cure under such 
 er happy auspices, and come to us reinvig- 
 orated. Our firm, sir, can afford to be liberal. It 
 is not every day that we are privileged to contri- 
 bute, I may say, the means of preserving one of 
 the city's loveliest fair ones, and rendering a ser- 
 vice to so honored a family as that of Mr. De 
 Grout. Ahem ; gentlemen, you understand that 
 Mr. Grafton's stipend begins from to-day, as if 
 he had entered on his duties as expected. No 
 thanks ; it is a pleasure, and such is the char- 
 acter of this house." 
 
 " By Jove," said Clinton as we went out, " I 
 believe the old cock would like to send the gov- 
 ernor a bill 'for services in saving life of daugh- 
 ter.' " 
 
 " He can't," the irreverent youth was reminded, 
 " because Dick did it on Saturday, when he was 
 his own man : he belongs to Lybert & Co. only 
 from this morning." 
 
 " That's so, and it's lucky. But the firm mean 
 to take credit for the rescue anyway." 
 
 " Well, it turns out all right for Dick ; this 
 thing happening at your place has given him a 
 big send-off. They think he must be quite a little 
 man because he's a friend of yours. Perhaps 
 they'll raise his wages." But Mr. Lybert's appre- 
 ciation stopped short of that point.
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 IT WOULD NOT DO. 
 
 NOT to trifle with the reader, I will say at once 
 that this hopeful beginning of a romance came to 
 nothing at all. It was disappointing ; from the 
 viewpoint of poetical justice and spheric melody 
 it might be called odious, and even low ; but that 
 is the way things go in real life, especially with 
 such a fellow as Grafton. He was made much of 
 at Oaklands for a week, and then returned to the 
 city, somewhat stiff in the joints and slow in his 
 motions, and began his new work. If he had 
 been anything of a business man, with half an eye 
 to the main chance, he might to-day be a partner 
 in a great firm (I do not mean of publishers), and 
 possibly in more senses than one. But the truth 
 is, his friends found they could do nothing with 
 him or for him. Clinton used to drag him up the 
 Hudson on Saturdays through that summer, and 
 after the family came back in the fall they deluged 
 him with invitations to dinner ; but he would go 
 there only when civility absolutely required it, and
 
 It would not do. 223 
 
 I presume they at last reluctantly concluded that 
 friendship was deformed, being all on one side. 
 
 A year later I took him to task for this con- 
 duct. "Dick, do you think you've treated the De 
 Grouts well ? " 
 
 " Perhaps not. But if so, I couldn't help it, as 
 you know perfectly." 
 
 " What have you got against them ? Don't you 
 like their style ? " 
 
 " Eminently ; to me they were kindness per- 
 sonified. They are just the sort of people I would 
 choose for my closest friends if I could meet 
 them on equal terms." 
 
 " Why can't you meet them on equal terms ? 
 Because they pay more taxes than you do ?" 
 
 " Because I don't see two dollars where they 
 turn over a thousand, if you want the coarse fact. 
 We're not in Arcadia, and that makes a very real 
 difference." 
 
 "But if they can overlook that, you might." 
 
 " It's just the other way. If positions were 
 reversed, I could afford to ignore it, and would be 
 glad to ; as it is, they can, but I can't." 
 
 "You make too much account of money far 
 more than they do. All this quixotry is merely 
 inverted wealth-worship." 
 
 " Let it stay inverted then, so honor keeps on 
 top." 
 
 He was keen enough when put on the defensive 
 about a definite matter ; but his tone was not so
 
 224 It would not do. 
 
 repellent as of old. He had seen a little more 
 (though not much) of the world by this time, and 
 was doing tolerably well for him, that is, making 
 expenses and a few dollars over ; and I suppose 
 that kept his spirits up. Finding him thus amen- 
 able, I ventured a step further. "I'd like to ask 
 you another question, Dick, if you don't mind." 
 
 " Ask as many as you like, old man. From you 
 I have no guilty secrets." 
 
 "Do you think you behaved exactly right to 
 Miss Edith ? " 
 
 He stared at me. " What do you mean now ? " 
 "Well, there were rumors, you know." 
 "I didn't start them, nor did she, I judge. The 
 best way to stop them was to keep away from 
 there." 
 
 "Did it never seem to you that that she " 
 " No, it didn't. She's not that kind of girl, and 
 I trust I'm not the kind of cad to think such 
 things. I don't wonder you're ashamed to put it 
 into words." 
 
 "Still, you seem to know pretty well what I 
 mean." 
 
 He flushed : it was an ingenuous habit he 
 retained long past the proper age for it. But he 
 parried the stroke neatly. "I know what you 
 mean, because I know you. You like to go over 
 and through and around and beneath and behind 
 a question, and to settle how it might have been 
 under totally different conditions ; whereas I am
 
 // would not do. 225 
 
 content to determine on the apparent facts. You 
 are forever overworking your brain to conjure up 
 not merely what might or should be, but the im- 
 possible and absurd. In this case it's indelicate, 
 improper a a sort of sacrilege." (Oho, I said 
 to myself; so he was hit hard after all.) "Why 
 should she have thought twice of me ? She's 
 seen lots of fellows in her own walk of life just 
 as good as I, and possibly much better." 
 
 " No doubt. But she might not think so ; 
 women are so peculiar. It was worth inquiring 
 into. Suppose, now, she had cared for you?" 
 
 "Why then, she'd soon have gotten bravely 
 over it. You ought to have more respect for her 
 than to suppose such things, Bob." 
 
 "I would have had enough respect for her to 
 ask if she had any further use for me, if I'd been 
 in your place, before I sheered off. You are the 
 most insensate animal, Richard." 
 
 " I should be if I had done what you suggest. 
 A thousand reasons forbade it." 
 
 "The thousand black cats, as usual, resolve 
 themselves into ours and the neighbor's. You 
 were not rich, and you had saved her life ; that's 
 about all." 
 
 " And isn't that enough ? I don't care to spend 
 strength in demonstrating an axiom. The thing 
 was impossible." 
 
 "Dick, you're an anachronism. You would 
 have made a good hermit in the Middle Ages.
 
 226 It would not do. 
 
 Most men have in them certain chords which 
 respond when properly struck ; but you were never 
 guilty of any such weakness, were you ? Miss 
 Edith is called a very charming girl, and you 
 were brought rather closely in contact with her 
 very closely, in fact. I thought at one time 
 that you were a little just a little touched in 
 that quarter ; but evidently I was mistaken." 
 
 I knew this would draw him out, for he could 
 not bear a misstatement of facts. Concealment he 
 would submit to and even practice in a private and 
 delicate matter, so long as it involved no falsehood ; 
 but (when no ladies were by) if you said, ' This 
 thing is white,' he would speak up and say, ' No, it 
 is black,' even if it cost him a dinner or his pros- 
 pects in life. 
 
 He emitted several rings of smoke, watched 
 them ascend to the ceiling, and drummed a mar- 
 tial air with his fingers on the table. Then he 
 remarked slowly and judicially, "I'm not fond of 
 unnecessary lying, Bob, and it's not clear that any 
 is necessary here, seeing it's only you. The thing 
 is not worth talking about, but it's all over now, 
 and since you are so curious, I may admit that I'm 
 not quite so cold-blooded as you pretend to think. 
 That young lady is all you say, and I know it bet- 
 ter than you, or perhaps than most. But to be 
 conscious of such a feeling in the germ was of 
 course to shut down on it, since no good could 
 come of it."
 
 It would not do. 227 
 
 " Ah, indeed. And if somebody had left you a 
 million or so about that time, what then ? " 
 
 "In that case I should probably have been 
 inclined to cultivate the acquaintance. But as 
 things were with me, it wouldn't do it wouldn't 
 do at all." 
 
 " I can't see why, if she and her family were 
 willing. They thought a heap of you, and en- 
 couraged you in every way ; and then there was 
 your great-grandmother, or her aunt's first hus- 
 band's sister, whichever it was, that intermarried 
 with them before. Besides, you had done them a 
 great service " 
 
 " Or they thought I had, which was the same 
 thing so far. Well, would you have had me go up 
 and say, ' Here, I want to be paid for that : give 
 me your daughter, and a furnished house on the 
 avenue, and so much a year to keep it with ' ? If 
 you can imagine a man acting like that, I can't." 
 
 " He needn't use those expressions, nor be so 
 peremptory. Take a part you can dress say 
 that of Lady Geraldine's lover. You stand around 
 awhile, and look poetic and haughty and yet tender; 
 then some day when it comes handy you say, ' List, 
 fairest, to my doleful moan ; This bosom beats for 
 thee alone' that sort of thing. Tell her you 
 haven't the least idea she'd ever care for you, and 
 wouldn't dream of asking it, but you thought she 
 ought to know that your heart lies bleeding at her 
 feet : that when you came near dying for her on
 
 228 // would not do. 
 
 those rocks, that was nothing at all, you'd be glad 
 to do it over any number of times if it would do 
 her any good you don't take any stock in that 
 tumble, but only mention it as a sample of your 
 capacity : that in the highly improbable event of 
 her responding in kind and meaning business, you 
 would have to make a much greater sacrifice, 
 seeing you value your pride more than life and 
 happiness ; but that, while a purely platonic ar- 
 rangement would meet your views best, you 
 wouldn't stand on that in case she thinks other- 
 wise you wish her to understand clearly that 
 you're at her service in any shape she prefers. 
 That, now, would be quite in character for you, 
 and well adapted to the circumstances. It does 
 the disinterested and magnanimous to a T., and 
 yet it's practical. No girl could ask for any better 
 than that." 
 
 " I fear it would go better in verse than in prose, 
 Bob. Such a flight is beyond my humble powers. 
 Keep your recipe for somebody who can use it. 
 I suppose you'll never let me hear the last of that 
 confounded accident." 
 
 "Then the lady's feelings are to go for no more 
 than yours, and any views she might have in the 
 matter to be completely disregarded ?" 
 
 " Certainly, if you insist on your absurd suppo- 
 sition. Modest women don't have views in such 
 matters till they're asked, nor feelings, to speak 
 of. And haven't you been preaching to me all
 
 It would not do. 229 
 
 these years that not views and feelings, but facts, 
 govern our lives ? In this case it's true. Between 
 Miss Edith and myself a great gulf is fixed. A 
 poor girl may marry a rich man without shame, 
 because in Nature's order the man is the provider 
 and supporter ; but when the reverse occurs, the 
 finger of scorn is justly pointed at the man for- 
 ever after. And worse than that are the stings 
 and arrows of outraged self-respect. He must 
 bear a lowly mind indeed who sells himself for 
 cash, or even for love. I'm not so poor as that. 
 Let Fitness rule, though Cupid fly." 
 
 " Dick, I'm disappointed in you. I thought you 
 went it for chivalry, but this is mere selfishness. 
 You're only thinking how to keep right with your- 
 self." 
 
 " That comes first, of course ; if a man doesn't 
 attend to that, who else can do it for him ? We're 
 all selfish, but we're not all content to be honor- 
 ably so. The skin is nearer than the shirt, and 
 I never professed to be a sentimentalist. But 
 I wouldn't say 'only.' I would stand by a friend 
 if I had the ability, like you and the De Grouts. 
 And if I were to make acquaintance with the 
 tender passion, I might go as far in it as most, 
 within bounds of reason and decency. But I 
 never could cry amen to all that slop of Byron 
 and Moore. 
 
 ' I know not, I care not, if guilt's in thy heart; 
 I but know that I love thee, whatever thou art.'
 
 230 // would not do. 
 
 That's immoral mush, fit for lunatics. The seven- 
 teenth century men understood these things 
 better. 
 
 ' I could not love thee, dear, so much, 
 Loved I not honor more.' 
 
 That's the idea. And so long as I can't go into 
 love-affairs honorably, I shall keep out of them." 
 
 " That sounds fine, but man was not made for 
 solitude. You shut yourself up tight in a cave 
 of egoism, and contemplate, I'll not say your own 
 perfections, but your principles, till everything 
 else looks small. If you own to selfishness, why 
 not be selfish to some purpose, like others ? Why 
 sacrifice yourself to these finedrawn fancies?" 
 
 " I'm not sacrificing myself, Bob ; that's the 
 lingo of your accepted system, which puts the 
 cart before the horse. My income, or the income 
 I haven't, is not myself : I should sacrifice myself 
 if I gained money by unworthy means. 'What 
 shall it profit a man,' you know. Whether I have 
 a remarkably good time, or no better time than 
 I've had so far, is not vital to the question of 
 myself. Whether I make my way and my 
 mark, or continue in total obscurity, is not of 
 primary importance either. If it looks priggish 
 I can't help it ; I've no yearning to lay down the 
 laws for others, but I see what it is for me, and 
 I'd sacrifice any number of external chances to 
 preserve my soul, my standards, my individu- 
 ality."
 
 // would not do. 231 
 
 " That's what one hears in church, and no 
 doubt it's all right in theory at least. But 
 you're not asked to accept the wages of unright- 
 eousness, or to love anybody with guilt in her 
 heart. On the contrary, all you can bring against 
 her is that she has money. But that's not her 
 fault, nor yours. You don't want her for her 
 money. You'd rather you had it yourself, and 
 she not have any " 
 
 " O no I wouldn't. I'm not so envious as that ; 
 I don't want to rob her. You've got me mixed 
 up with somebody else now." 
 
 " Well, you know what I mean. Here's a good 
 girl, pure and sweet, and as highminded as your- 
 self " 
 
 "She's not here, Bob, and she never will be. 
 But if she were, and if she had condescended to 
 such foolish fancies as you credit her with, she 
 would say I was right, that I must forego her to 
 save myself. Yes, sir, I know her well enough 
 for that." 
 
 I saw it was of no use. " Well, Dick, I fear 
 you'll never make your fortune." 
 
 " Probably not ; but I don't think I shall ever 
 sink into the pensioner of my father-in-law, or the 
 husband of my wife."
 
 BOOK FOURTH. 
 
 IN HARNESS.
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 MR. PRANCE. 
 
 GRAFTON'S duties were somewhat motley and 
 multifarious. The establishment of Lybert & Co. 
 was a vast manufactory, where brainwork of all 
 degrees prepared for and underlaid the toil of 
 many score of hands. He had nothing to do with 
 the type-setting, nor with the filling of orders at 
 retail or wholesale ; but he corrected proof, fur- 
 nished book-notices and items as at Miletus, and 
 occasionally sat in judgment on manuscripts to 
 see if they were worth printing. Not that any 
 of these momentous functions was wholly in- 
 trusted to him ; the publications of the great 
 house, and still more the products of genius or 
 learning which aspired to be taken into that cate- 
 gory, whether in a permanent or periodical form, 
 were numerous enough to claim the attention of 
 more skilled laborers than I should want to feed 
 or oversee. These gatekeepers of Literature 
 were more or less carefully graded, and only long 
 service, or high pretensions, could reach the posts
 
 236 Mr. Prance. 
 
 of command. The method by which their tasks 
 were divided (for method there of necessity was, 
 and rigidly maintained) was veiled in mystery to 
 the newcomer, and the mere contact of so much 
 symmetric thinking fatigued his rural brain. So 
 rapidly was he initiated, so much was taken for 
 granted as already within his ken, that he felt as 
 if whirled through some vast congestion of novel 
 machinery. His superiors were many, and he 
 knew not as yet in what relation they stood to one 
 another. If he asked for instructions, the curt 
 answers resolved themselves into a single formula, 
 Do what you are told, and leave the rest. The 
 motto, He that does the Will shall know of the 
 doctrine, appeared qualified by the warning, What 
 is that to thee ? In pity for his bewilderment, 
 or more probably by the rule of the place, they 
 assigned him at first to kinds of work with which 
 he was familiar ; but when the incoming mails and 
 express packages claimed his assistance in sorting 
 their contents, awe and perplexity filled his soul. 
 Yet though his labors were in great part mechani- 
 cal, he could not affect to despise them, for the 
 material they dealt with concerned itself with 
 ideas, and only mediately with dollars. What 
 solid bundles of thought, what dried flowers and 
 preserved fruits of research, were passing hourly 
 through his hands science, divinity, travel, his- 
 tory, all the way down to fiction ! The building 
 in which he spent his days was a warehouse of
 
 Mr. Prance. 237 
 
 intellect, the pages he helped prepare formed 
 journals of civilization. He respected the reign- 
 ing silence, the intent air of so many mintmasters 
 and coiners of the brain. 
 
 " You'll get used to it in time, youngster," said 
 elderly Mr. Prance one day. " Meanwhile, if you 
 can't take it easy, take it as easy as you can." 
 
 Mr. Prance was a dignitary of grade unknown 
 to the novice, with an observant eye which at 
 times emitted humorous gleams ; to him, more 
 freely than to the rest, Dick turned when in quest 
 of information. They were going out to lunch, 
 and he ventured on a leading question. 
 
 "I wish you would tell me who edits the fort- 
 nightly." 
 
 "Who edits it? Why, the editor. He's a 
 most valuable man ; he never blunders, or gets 
 sick, or goes off for a vacation ; and he never 
 dies, because he's plural. There are several of 
 him ; I'm one, and you're another." 
 
 " But who controls or manages it ? Who's the 
 head ? " 
 
 " Lybert & Co., of course ; they're head of 
 everything here. We all look up to them, as the 
 planets to the sun. Didn't you know that ? " 
 
 " Do you mean to say there's no responsible 
 editor ? " 
 
 "We're all responsible. Neglect orders, or 
 make any mistakes, and you'll think you're in 
 Utah, with the all-seeing eye staring at you from
 
 238 Mr. Prance. 
 
 the rocks. O, I forgot, you came from the West ; 
 you mean the fighting editor. We're not like 
 that ; we print nothing that can offend, and it's 
 seldom that anybody comes in to complain : when 
 he does, we refer him to the porters. Bear that 
 in mind." 
 
 "But I don't see" 
 
 " You will in time. You're young yet, and have 
 much to learn. But why this exclusive interest in 
 the fortnightly ? Are you attached to that ? " 
 
 " That's what I'd like to know. I seem to be 
 hanging on the edge of various things." 
 
 " Just so ; we all are. Didn't you read the 
 proof of the Illustrated the advertisements 
 at least and punctuate the heavy article on 
 Hygrometry in the last Quarterly ? Did it very 
 well, too. Yes, and you corrected the mythology 
 in the Puerile Delight, and saw to the logarithms 
 in the Modern Mechanician, and supplied offhand 
 those points about literary females for the Glass 
 of Fashion when they were a quarter of a column 
 short and in a hurry. That's right, my son ; 
 always be ready when you're wanted. But do you 
 know about Kalmuck musical instruments, and 
 the secret history of the treaty of Utrecht, and 
 the founding of Perdue University, and the style 
 of topboots A. D. 1 300 ? No ? Then look them 
 up ; they may be needed. We are paid to know 
 everything, and when we don't it is laid on the last 
 recruit. I have most of the other points myself,
 
 Mr. Prance. 239 
 
 and could prompt you ; but you must learn to rely 
 on your own resources, and none of us have those 
 I mentioned." 
 
 "You like your little joke, Mr. Prance," said 
 Dick, half offended, and not knowing exactly how 
 to take this quizzical elder. 
 
 " Who, I ? Not at all. When I get any new 
 jokes I keep them for the funny columns ; we pay 
 extra for those, as for poetry, when bad enough 
 that is, when strictly adapted to popular apprehen- 
 sion. That is why all our men are so silent and 
 serious : they are saving up their good things, 
 and trying to invent others, in training for the 
 charge of the Humorous Department; it is the 
 most lucrative place we have. But the incumbents 
 never live long, the brain-work is so exhausting. 
 Apart from that, no levity is tolerated in the shop. 
 What I wish to show you is that we are all parts of 
 one vast and I may say glorious system, revolving 
 around in our several orbits, but in perfect har- 
 mony, and together enlightening the universe 
 yes, sir, no less. You are an editor of all these 
 invaluable publications ; so am I ; so are most of 
 us. What more useful, more noble calling ? Let 
 that be an incentive to you to avoid the temptations 
 of the metropolis, to labor diligently, and above all 
 to seek no public recognition, to shun the siren 
 Fame. The personal element is suppressed here, 
 except in the books and the signed articles, which 
 are all clone outside. What we write is editorial
 
 240 Mr. Prance. 
 
 and nameless, and thus the more impressive. I 
 went once on business to see Bolland, the conduc- 
 tor of Filmers, and shamelessly acknowledged as 
 such. He pointed out a young man seated in the 
 office, and whispered, 'That's the assistant editor 
 of the Indian Ocean.' I thought something would 
 happen to those men ; and mark you, within five 
 short years Bolland died, and the other is now a 
 greenbacker in Congress. Let this be a warning 
 to you. It was a bad beginning when you fell out 
 of the haymow with that girl, and got your name 
 in the papers. O, wasn't it a haymow ? Well, an 
 apple tree then. But as that had no connection 
 with your work here, you may be able to live it 
 down, if you eschew all thoughts of authorship." 
 
 They had finished their lunch, and were reenter- 
 ing the great building on Lore Street. " 'Sh, now : 
 not a word of what I've been telling you, or we'll 
 both be discharged. When you need any more 
 points, give me a hint, and I'll explain to you, out 
 of office hours." 
 
 This erratic monitor aroused Grafton's curiosity, 
 which he saw no means of satisfying just then. 
 But a few days after a colleague of his own age 
 or less joined him at the nooning, and cheerfully 
 answered a casual query. "Prance? O, he's a 
 queer old cock. Used to have money, they say, 
 and lost it ; wrote some books an age ago, but they 
 didn't sell, so he got disappointed and cranky. 
 What does he do in the shop ? Dashed if I
 
 Mr. Prance. 241 
 
 know ; loafs round and pecks at things generally, 
 I guess, same as you do. Got a pretty daughter 
 though. I made an excuse to call there one night 
 way off in East Sixteenth Street it is ; but he 
 saw through my little game and sent me off in 
 short order, so I didn't see the girl at all. Wont 
 have any absinthe ? Where in hades were you 
 raised ? That's what I come here for." Dick was 
 not drawn to this comrade, who affected very loud 
 checks and a flaming necktie, and whose manners 
 had by no means that repose which stamps the 
 caste of Vere cle Vere. The youth, as he after- 
 wards learned, was employed in the mailing depart- 
 ment, and did not properly belong to the editorial 
 brotherhood at all. 
 
 When he had been at work nearly a month, he 
 was called into the inner sanctum by one of the 
 chief managers (as he supposed) of the periodicals, 
 who said, "Mr. Jones is sick to-day, and I must 
 ask you to look over these," indicating somewhat 
 less than a bushel of manuscripts. Dick gazed 
 at the pile with respect, and suggested that he 
 would prefer to carry them to his lodgings, which 
 was assented to with an air of faint surprise. 
 
 "When do you want them again ? " he asked. 
 
 The editor looked at him queerly, he thought, 
 and replied, " I don't know that I want them at 
 all. You can probably attend to them ; only note 
 such as are accompanied by return postage, and 
 keep separate from the rest."
 
 242 Mr. Prance. 
 
 His pride in this more elevated task dampened 
 by uncertainty as to what was expected of him, 
 he attacked the bundles zealously, and kept at 
 them through half the night. Many of the in- 
 tending contributions were either intrinsically 
 worthless, or plainly unfitted to the use for which 
 they were offered ; others were dubious ; a dozen 
 stones, some essays and sketches, and a few 
 copies of verse, he thought might be 'available.' 
 These he presented next morning to his superior, 
 who received them with visible reluctance. 
 
 " What are these for ? " 
 
 " For one or other of our publications, sir ; it 
 is hardly in my province to determine which. 
 But I can report more definitely if you desire." 
 
 " O no. Did it strike you that you had enough 
 here to fill two weeklies and half a quarterly ? " 
 
 " I don't urge them all for admission, sir. 
 About these two there can be no doubt, in my 
 opinion, and probably little concerning these 
 verses and this paper on education, which might 
 do best for the Review ; the rest are for further 
 consideration. My judgment was not meant to 
 be final, I presume." 
 
 " H'm ; not on a question of acceptance, cer- 
 tainly. You're not looking very bright to-day, 
 Mr. Grafton." 
 
 "I sat over these till three, sir, and then was 
 not half way through the lot." 
 
 The editor stared. " If you propose to spend
 
 Mr. Prance. 243 
 
 so much time over half a day's mail, I fear you 
 will never get through your duties." 
 
 Dick flushed. " You may remember that I 
 have had no instructions as to this part of my 
 work. You told me to look the manuscripts over; 
 I supposed that meant to examine them. Doubt- 
 less I shall be able to do it more rapidly when I 
 have had more practice." 
 
 The editor fanned himself, and looked very 
 weary : it was a hot July day, though but ten 
 A.M. " You had better talk to Mr. Prance ; I 
 am very busy. Take these things to him ; don't 
 leave them here. Just one word : remember 
 Talleyrand's advice." 
 
 Dick took Mr. Prance aside, and briefly stated 
 his case. The veteran shook with silent laughter. 
 " What, you read 'em ? That'll never do. But 
 we can't talk it over now. Come to my place 
 to-night, at nine, or later if you have girls or 
 theatres first. No ? Exemplary youth. Well, 
 at nine not earlier."
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 EDITING MADE EASY. 
 
 MR. PRANCE occupied the second floor of a 
 small house in an unfashionable neighborhood. 
 The door was opened by a bare-armed maid of 
 Teutonic appearance, who told the visitor to go 
 upstairs to the front room. Feeling his way 
 thither through the darkness, he was bidden to 
 enter and sit down. The host was at a desk in 
 his shirt-sleeves, writing furiously. " Take care 
 of yourself for two minutes," he said, " and then 
 I'll attend to you." Dick looked about him ; the 
 disorderly room was full of a workman's litter. 
 Books were on the tables, the chairs, the floors, 
 as well as on two of the walls ; everywhere news- 
 papers, pamphlets, proofs, and ' copy.' The fur- 
 niture was solid and far from new ; there were 
 a few good pictures, and one, of an attractive 
 woman in the costume of twenty-five years before, 
 hung above the desk. Presently the writer threw 
 down his pen and turned his long lean frame and 
 grizzled locks toward Dick.
 
 Editing made Easy. 245 
 
 " Either you're early or I'm late. Here's the 
 devil now." A grimy boy entered, grinned, re- 
 ceived some sheets on which the ink was barely 
 dry, and departed. " No, you're not disturbing 
 me ; I'm free now. You see, I don't work for 
 Lybert only. I leave the shop at four and go 
 to the Battle-Axe office ; come home to dinner, 
 and write for two hours or so. Been looking at 
 the books ? Sad survivals of the past, except 
 these tools for constant use. I had a library once, 
 but it went long ago, with most possessions of 
 youth." He glanced at the portrait, and, Dick 
 thought, suppressed a sigh. " Now about your 
 business. You needn't have brought that truck." 
 He glanced contemptuously at an armful of 
 selected MSS. " I see you're warm. There's 
 a little balcony back, where we can get what air 
 there is. Take off your coat if you like. No ? 
 Then I'll put on this jacket in your honor. 
 Here's Persian tobacco, and a choice of pipes ; 
 I can't afford cigars. Better light up here." 
 
 He turned down the gas, led the way through 
 one or two dark rooms, opened a window level 
 with the floor, struck a match, and found two 
 chairs. The dainty white bed, the feminine 
 devices strewed about, bespoke an absentee. 
 "There's no other way through," said the host. 
 " My daughter's away, but I wouldn't let every 
 one in here ; not that fellow Snide, for instance." 
 Dick remembered the youth of the absinthe and
 
 246 Editing made Easy. 
 
 the scarlet tie. " Met him ? Like him ? No, or 
 you wouldn't be yourself. I can tell a gentleman 
 when I see him, and it isn't altogether by the 
 clothes. You'll find all sorts in this town, and in 
 our line of business. Precious poor business it is 
 too ; but you've chosen it, and I suppose you want 
 to stay in it awhile, so you've got to learn how to 
 handle contributions." 
 
 The balcony afforded just room enough to tilt 
 your chair back and deposit your feet upon the 
 railing ; a reprehensible practice, in which Grafton 
 seldom indulged. It was a quiet place for that 
 part of the noisy city: the stars were shining, 
 and the streets and their traffic out of sight. 
 " We've got eight feet of back yard here ; an un- 
 usual privilege." 
 
 The old gentleman seemed to have left his sar- 
 casms down town, and to meet his visitor in a 
 mood of human brotherhood. Dick was embold- 
 ened to open the budget of his troubles. " What 
 did Mr. Perkins mean by referring me to Talley- 
 rand?" 
 
 " Why, he saw you were too conscientious. It's 
 a frailty that leans to virtue's side, and when 
 you've outgrown it, you'll make better stuff than 
 if you began carelessly ; but it's apt to be trouble- 
 some while it lasts. No zeal, except for your 
 employers. You're not here in the interest of 
 authors, or of the public, or of literature, but 
 simply of Lybert & Co. Ever hear what the
 
 Editing made Easy. 247 
 
 manager of the Independent Wesleyan Board of 
 Publication said when somebody proposed to him 
 to reprint their early documents ? ' We don't 
 care a button for the fame of John Wesley, or of 
 Charles Wesley, or any other man : we care only 
 for what will sell.' Minister he was too, and stood 
 for a religious house. He put it with unnecessary 
 coarseness brutal frankness like that rarely pays, 
 except in Bismarck ; it's best to smooth things 
 over but he stated the principle. Intrinsic 
 merit is neither here nor there : market value is 
 what concerns every publisher and every editor." 
 
 "I understand that," said Dick; "but the 
 Delight and the quarterly and the rest are made 
 up of contributions, mainly. These are sent in 
 good faith, I suppose, and to be taken ditto. If 
 we don't examine them, how can we tell which to 
 accept ? " 
 
 " My dear boy, contributions are of two classes. 
 We get all we want by contract with known and 
 privileged writers ; those that come unsolicited 
 from people we never heard of are of no account." 
 
 " But then we ought to give notice that stran- 
 gers are not admitted." 
 
 " That wouldn't do ; too undemocratic and exclu- 
 sive. Appearances must be preserved. We can't 
 protect ourselves against these tons of truck that 
 come in by mail ; but we needn't spend our days 
 and nights on 'em. If the writers enclose return 
 stamps, we can send back their stuff, though we
 
 248 Editing made Easy. 
 
 never promise that ; it's a mere courtesy. By the 
 way, you've got your stack of rejected addresses 
 yet ? " 
 
 "Yes; I waited for further instructions." 
 
 " Don't send any of 'em off for a month. That 
 keeps up the proprieties, shows that our time is 
 valuable, and lets the anxious scribes think, if they 
 like, that we've read their bantlings carefully, after 
 your style." Mr. Prance took his pipe from his 
 mouth, and gave way to merriment. 
 
 " I didn't read all of them through ; some I 
 could see were worthless, just by dipping into 
 them here and there. If we don't do that much, 
 it seems to me the writers are hardly treated." 
 
 " A writer has no rights except the favored 
 few ; that's the office maxim. They are a guilty 
 and obtrusive tribe, the natural foes of editors : 
 the thing to do with them is to suppress them ; 
 politely, of course, but firmly. Dismiss from your 
 mind any lingering sympathy with them, if you 
 want to get on at the shop. They've been stung 
 by lo's gadfly, and their mania is to waste ink 
 and spoil paper, and then send the result to us. 
 There's no time for dipping into their evil concoc- 
 tions : we're not paid for that, unless Jones. Do 
 you know what he gets ? Six dollars a week. He 
 can do nothing else, except read proof indiffer- 
 ently, but he's a good skipper. He can wade 
 through a hundred of these burdens of Tyre, or 
 say two thousand pages, in a day, and that's our
 
 Editing made Easy. 249 
 
 average. He takes them as they come in, and 
 they're never heard of again ; he knows too much 
 to hand any of 'em to Perkins. You can under- 
 stand now how Perkins felt when you took him 
 that stack this morning ; I think he was lenient 
 with you." The iron-gray moustache again shook 
 with mirth. " Perhaps Jones reads 'em some- 
 times ; he can if he likes to sit up nights. But it 
 takes a good deal of time, and management, and 
 a sense of order, which Jones happily possesses, 
 to handle a hundred papers a day, of all sorts and 
 sizes most of 'em in a dozen or more loose 
 pieces and keep two-thirds of 'em a month, and 
 then send 'em to the right owners with our cir- 
 cular. You can't go into that sort of business ; 
 your time's too valuable." 
 
 " I'm sorry, for I should like to do just this, if I 
 were allowed." 
 
 The veteran bestowed a glance of pity on his 
 junior. "You wouldn't, if you'd seen a little more 
 of it; it's a dreadful job. Sentimental farmers' 
 daughters, who've been one term at boarding 
 school, send you their ideas of life and men as 
 they might be. Ouida's a fool to these ; you've 
 no conception, till you strike them, how gorgeous 
 heroes, and palaces, and passions can be. Widows, 
 who can write no more than the dead, tell you 
 how they've got nine small children to keep from 
 starvation, and wont you please find a place for 
 this first effort, and they may do better next time.
 
 250 Editing made Easy. 
 
 Leading members of the Podunk Debating Society 
 have observed with approval your endeavors to 
 raise the standard of poetry, and enclose a little 
 thing which was hailed with enthusiasm at the last 
 meeting ; ail their friends say it's just what you 
 want. And evil-minded old parsons in the back 
 country weigh you down with dreadful lectures 
 on temperance and citizenship. This kind always 
 want their rant back, under the delusion that they 
 can get it in elsewhere : the widows seldom think 
 of that. My boy, I've been there long ago. It's 
 far worse now." 
 
 Dick allowed one remorseful throb to the alleged 
 widows : they might have planted unwisely, but 
 they had looked for some small harvest, and it 
 seemed hard for them to lose even the seed corn. 
 " Then, if a writer forgets the stamps, his produc- 
 tion is absolutely lost and thrown away ? " 
 
 " O no ; it's worth a cent and a half a pound. 
 The firm has a paper mill, you know. They of- 
 fered to allow Jones the waste as his perquisites, 
 but he was fool enough to prefer a salary. I judge 
 he repents that mistake now. All this is confi- 
 dential, of course." 
 
 " Is there no way of stopping this flood of offer- 
 ings?" 
 
 " None. Were we to attempt the ill-judged 
 charity of requiring certificates of moral character 
 and a high-school education from new contributors, 
 or announcing that none but trained writers need
 
 Editing made Easy. 251 
 
 apply, we should scare away only those who might 
 perhaps do good work. The ignorant, the incapa- 
 ble, the hopeless cranks, would keep on just the 
 safne." 
 
 " What does one in Jones' position do to these 
 persistent scribblers, who wont take No for an 
 answer ? Can't they be warned off somehow ? " 
 
 "Jones doesn't know one from another. With 
 our method, you might see a name fifty times and 
 not remember it. Should you chance to recognize 
 a professional bore, you might hold his piece two 
 months, and then three, and finally lose the next. 
 That ought to be sufficient notice, if he has any 
 sense. But many of 'em haven't. They're anxious 
 to get into type at any cost, and think they're 
 Thackerays and George Eliots in disguise." 
 
 " Yes, but with this system the real Thackerays 
 and George Eliots are liable to be suppressed. 
 How is a new man who has anything in him to 
 get started ? There must be some good substance 
 in this deluge of trash." 
 
 " Of course. Bolland used to say the trouble 
 was not so much in the flood of trash as in the 
 \flood of really good matter ; but then he was a 
 popular author. The chances are against the 
 sucking Thackerays : I mean, they are such rare 
 birds that we can't afford to be looking for them 
 among the crows and sparrows. You see, of every 
 fifty contributions we receive, forty will be useless 
 for any purpose, and whatever the other ten may
 
 252 Editing made Easy. 
 
 be, we haven't room for more than one of them, 
 and no time to see which it is. Now are you 
 satisfied ? " 
 
 " Between ourselves, no. Those ten possibili- 
 ties, or at least the one writer of merit, has some 
 human rights, the office maxim to the contrary 
 notwithstanding. I can't see that we are doing 
 our duty by him, or by the public, which wants 
 him detected and brought to the front." 
 
 " My dear boy, Clough has answered that. 
 
 'The Summutn Pulchrum rests in heaven above: 
 Do thou, as best thou mayst, thy duty do.' 
 
 You're not editing an ideal magazine on your own 
 account : if you were, it would soon go to ever- 
 lasting smash. The young writers of merit must 
 take their chance. Once they've shown what 
 they can do and got their names up, they may 
 have all the space they want and most favored 
 nation terms." 
 
 " I can't see how they are to do it, so long as 
 we confound them with the mob. They can't get 
 anything printed, you say, till they've made their 
 mark, and how can they make their mark except 
 in print? What ghost of a chance have they 
 while we refuse to look at their writings?" 
 
 "Somebody else may though it's not likely. 
 Let them begin on the country papers and work 
 up, like Artemus and Mark and Petroleum V.; 
 that's the way now, unless one has money and
 
 Editing made Easy. 253 
 
 friends. Or if they're of superfine fibre, and 
 allow themselves to be driven off the track by 
 disgust or starvation, the world can wag on with- 
 out them somehow. It's their funeral, not yours." 
 
 " I know, and I'm not quite ready to be buried 
 yet. As you say, I am powerless to help ; but 
 somebody ought to discriminate. Every magazine 
 in the land professes to long for fresh, bright 
 matter from new sources, and hold out both arms 
 to budding genius." 
 
 " Of course. If any responsible party will 
 guarantee us that Brown or Blue is going to be 
 paying stock, we'll invest in them fast enough. 
 But how the deuce can we tell beforehand ? We 
 can't sift all these tons of sand in search of a 
 stray diamond or two." 
 
 "It comes to this, Mr. Prance; let some one 
 else discover and label the best writers, and we'll 
 let them in. I thought the discovering was what 
 we were for, in part." 
 
 " Well, you were a green tree ; you'll ripen in 
 time. Exploration is too expensive for us ; we 
 haven't the force for it. It's cheaper and safer 
 to stick to the old approved hands. Did you ever 
 know a publication except the Skakerly, which 
 pays nothing to invite contributors ? " 
 
 " No. But how did the old approved hands get 
 to be such ? How does any one come to be 
 known, at this rate ? " 
 
 " Some by the newspapers, as aforesaid ; some
 
 254 Editing made Easy. 
 
 by hiring a hall, that is, spending a few hundreds 
 and sacrificing a first book to secure an audience : 
 some by having friends at court : some by pure 
 persistence, or pure luck, or a combination of the 
 two. If it's in them, it'll come out ; if they have 
 any call to write, they'll keep on writing at 
 least that's the supposition. We're not respon- 
 sible for their discouragements, or for any tem- 
 porary injustice that may be done. We've got 
 that is, our employers have to sell our pub- 
 lications, and you and I and Perkins and the rest 
 are paid to keep up the standard." 
 
 " But do we keep it up with truck like Wegler's 
 last story, and Boom's dissertation on Infinity ? I 
 thought they rang very false." 
 
 " O, the concern's not gotten up for you and 
 me. Nobody wants to read the whole magazine, 
 and nobody wades through that swamp of Boom's, 
 but it looks well to have a few heavy articles : 
 they carry an air of profundity, and give us a 
 reputation as all-round men, knowing about all 
 there is to be known, and able to tackle any 
 subject in the heavens above or the earth below 
 or the waters beneath, though we generally deign 
 to be intelligible and entertaining. That kind of 
 name pays better in the long run than a merely 
 literary or a merely popular one. Boom got 
 only half rates for that thing, of course. As to 
 Wegler, he's running out, you know ; but he can 
 travel a year or two yet on his old passes. It's
 
 Editing made Easy. 255 
 
 not intrinsic excellence we're after, but the public 
 taste, and the dear public wants names. They 
 look to see who's written a thing before they read 
 it, and if we brought out a number blazing with 
 new Turgeneffs and unaccredited Tennysons, the 
 circulation would fall off. How many do you 
 suppose judge for themselves ? Nine out of ten 
 readers want a fingerpost. Of course a man 
 who's made a name may lose it by being too 
 greedy and careless ; but it takes a long time, 
 longer than it does to make it. However, that's 
 not the point ; you want me to talk to my text, for 
 your private edification and guidance. Between 
 the brew that's always on top and in demand, and 
 the dregs that go into the gutter, is an inter- 
 mediate class ; things from men that have been 
 personally introduced or are of some standing j 
 and so mustn't be offended : you don't want their 
 stuff, but you must be civil about it. I hope 
 Perkins wont give you any such without notifica- 
 tion ; it might get you into a scrape. In fact, I'll 
 see that he doesn't." 
 
 " Much obliged, I'm sure. What must I do in 
 such a case ? " 
 
 " Write to the author, giving the reason for 
 rejection ; something half complimentary, so as 
 to let him down easy. Say the dialogue is very 
 bright and sparkling, but the action hardly rapid 
 enough : or you're deeply impressed by the imagin- 
 ation and feeling of his piece, but it's long, and
 
 256 Editing made Easy. 
 
 you're awfully pressed for spaced or nothing would 
 prevent your accepting his admirable sketch but the 
 fact that you've just booked one on the same sub- 
 ject. You can ring any number of changes on these 
 tunes, and it's not often necessary. Always sign 
 ' Editors,' plural never individually, of course. 
 Twenty years ago, and even ten, such letters were 
 sent more commonly, if not in most cases. Some 
 of the smaller magazines still make a pretence 
 of doing that, but it's a mere formula, like our 
 printed circulars, except that they return thanks 
 for the opportunity of examining the nuisances ; 
 we're above that particular humbug. I've heard 
 of cases, too, in which those concerns actually 
 looked at a strange MS. enough to form an idea 
 of what was in it : Priest came to light in that 
 fashion, and perhaps Hawser and Braddock. It 
 must be very exceptional, even with them. I sup- 
 pose some new hand like you had the strange 
 fancy to take a bagful of papers along on his 
 vacation, and put these in with a favorable report 
 when the chief was in a good humor after dinner. 
 Even so, I don't see how they can afford the time. 
 Of course, there are just as good fish in the sea as 
 ever came out of it ; but we can't go fishing for 
 them not here : perhaps they can in- Boston and 
 Philadelphia. Now as to these reams of spoiled 
 foolscap, send 'em back for the guilty authors to 
 wear on cold nights after a month, mind or 
 sell 'em to the ragman. O yes, amuse yourself
 
 Editing made Easy. 257 
 
 with 'em evenings and Sundays, if you like, and 
 grow old before your time ; but remember, it's a 
 bad habit, and it's not business. And above all, 
 don't bother Perkins. I'll see you again soon."
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 AN UNDOMESTIC INTERIOR. 
 
 ALTHOUGH Grafton did not then realize the full 
 measure of his indebtedness to Mr. Prance, he 
 was strongly attracted by the outspoken old man. 
 What he heard had not delighted him, but he saw 
 it was laid down not as abstractly excellent but 
 as actually existent if not inevitable ; as fact, not 
 theory ; as a rule for his conduct, and by no means 
 as food for his soul. And he was beginning to dis- 
 tinguish between these two sorts of truth ; to learn 
 that though man may not live by bread alone, his 
 baser part cannot live on ideals at all. He had no 
 wish to imperil his position by coming into absurd 
 conflict with the rules and ideas of his superiors : 
 if scamped work was insisted on, he was not re- 
 sponsible for the scamping. If the eminent and 
 variegated publications of Lybert & Co. awoke 
 delusive hopes in a myriad bosoms of the scribbling 
 tribe, that was not his doing, and really he could 
 not expect the great house to alter its policy at the 
 bidding of a newly imported and inexperienced
 
 An Undomestic Interior. 259 
 
 subordinate. It was not so much the quality of 
 the work you had to do as the spirit in which you 
 did it that credited or discredited you ; and if his 
 tasks were not quite what he had expected, he 
 could but discharge them as well as circumstances 
 would allow. As long as no positive dishonesty 
 was required and Mr. Prance must have been 
 joking about those humbugging letters to rejected 
 but respected contributors ; at any rate, they were 
 seldom needed. In such a case he would be taken 
 sick like Jones, or avoid the job somehow. He 
 would not go direct against conscience, even in 
 such a trivial matter ; but he could not again tax 
 the patience of his friends to find a new place in 
 which he might earn his bread. Did he not remem- 
 ber that poor Maryland minister who used to say 
 with such beautiful faith, ' The Lord will provide ' ; 
 and then the neighbors, knowing that the mealbag 
 was empty and not likely to be replenished by any 
 active efforts of that trustful parent, would bring 
 in provisions, lest the wolf should devour the un- 
 protected colony of little Red Ridinghoods. No, 
 he could not play that part though he had no 
 wife or children to suffer, thank Heaven. He 
 must, he would be practical : he would bend his 
 pride, and submit to fate, and do the duties that 
 lay nearest, though they were nothing to boast of, 
 and seemed to result in no more than keeping him 
 decently clad and out of debt. It was horribly hot 
 and lonesome here in town, with his few friends
 
 260 An Undomestic Interior. 
 
 away ; and it was so peaceful and homelike at 
 Oaklands. If only O yes ; if, and if, and if. 
 If fancies were diamonds, then knaves would be 
 kings, and beggars could go on horseback. If 
 one's ancestors had exercised common foresight, or 
 if oneself had any 'faculty,' why then we would be 
 out of this coil. At this point, as he owned to me 
 long afterwards, he dropped into an inexpensive 
 house of refreshment, and imbibed a B. and S. It 
 was a most unusual indulgence for him, but he 
 needed invigoration, and felt as if something would 
 happen if he did not get it just then. 
 
 He went home ; it was but an unpretentious 
 chamber, such as shelters ten thousand impecu- 
 nious bachelors in Babylon the Great, near the 
 roof of a fifth-rate mansion in a ' long unlovely 
 street ' well away from Murray Hill. He climbed 
 the stairs slowly, and sat down with that faithful 
 consoler, his pipe ; it was an old meerschaum that 
 had stood by him from college days. He did not 
 tax its fidelity by too constant usage, but relieved 
 it with humbler substitutes of brier and red clay ; 
 but when he wanted to do any special thinking, 
 or draw into himself away from an ungenial world, 
 this was his chosen comrade. Herein, says 
 worthy Adam Clarke, consists the ungodliness 
 of tobacco ; men claim to find in that profane 
 weed solace in their troubles which should be 
 sought only from the Spirit. Per contra, it was 
 a pious man before the commentator's time who
 
 An Undomestic Interior. 261 
 
 found in his long ' churchwarden ' the model for 
 a future spouse, such as should ' never burn to 
 thwart his will, never burn to use him ill/ but by 
 turns soothe and stimulate, and 'often, when his 
 thoughts were low, send them where they ought 
 to go.' In our secular age men take comfort 
 where they can get it, and Grafton's criminality, 
 if such, was not of the grossly sensual kind. 
 
 As he pursued his meditations under this gentle 
 influence, it became clearer that he must distin- 
 guish between his recent instructions and their 
 giver. Mr. Prance preserved what most early 
 lose, a mental margin. He could put a case for- 
 cibly, yet keep himself outside it ; he knew the 
 exigencies of business, but was not wholly swal- 
 lowed up thereby. Through the severe official 
 voice spoke the practised critic of life at large, 
 who accepted his own doings and belongings as 
 part of a not too admirable scheme of things, and 
 coddled no narrow prejudice on their behalf as 
 being his. ' So it is, and we can't mend it ' ; this 
 was the burden of his testimony. He talked from 
 the head, not the heart, as one who might have 
 found the latter organ troublesome ; but if the 
 substance of his communication seemed harsh, 
 there was kindness in its purpose. 
 
 Dick could not drive the poor would-be authors 
 from his head, with their ill-starred armadas that 
 were lost at sea, or came back bruised and empty, 
 and nothing to show for the expenses of the trip.
 
 262 An Undomestic Interior. 
 
 They were not his affair at all ; but he was an 
 unthrifty manager, whose brain-force expended 
 itself far too largely in speculations on abstract 
 Fitness, and how things ought to be in a con-' 
 ceivable universe. So much waste, such mis- 
 directed or unutilized energy, afflicted him like 
 a personal misfortune. All over the land were 
 homes or garrets, and some of them bare of plen- 
 ishing, lighted now by a flickering candle of hope, 
 to go out when these misbegotten manuscripts 
 came back with that infernal circular. It would 
 be bad enough if they were all born of blundering 
 imbecility ; but, however young at the trade, he 
 had seen, and Prance admitted, that this was not 
 so. There might be men and women cabined, 
 cribbed, confined by the blind routine of circum- 
 stances, who felt their wings sprouting and heard 
 Apollo's faint far-off call, but were chained to 
 the ox like Pegasus, set to plough stony fields 
 or haul manure, and harnessed down so that they 
 could not soar. And some of these were crying 
 to him for help ; but he too was tied and power- 
 less. It was in literature then as in everything 
 else unless one's whole nature went to money- 
 grubbing. 
 
 " What hand and brain went ever paired? 
 What heart alike conceived and dared? 
 What act proved all its thought had been? 
 What will but felt the fleshly screen ? "
 
 An Undomestic Interior. 263 
 
 Yes, there must still be foiled Chattertons, minds 
 that the world needed but knew not, souls thirst- 
 ing for their proper work but condemned to drop 
 short of the goal, or survive to be hedgers and 
 ditchers. What was it for, this confused and 
 cruel medley ? What did it mean, the dark vast 
 roll of failures and of woes ? It was very pretty 
 to preach about suffering and being strong, 
 about patience having her perfect work, about 
 ripening under trials. All that might be if one 
 saw an end within reach, held a clue to the 
 labyrinth. One could be patient and steadfast 
 if there were any visible cause to fight for ; but 
 
 "Neither battle I see, nor arraying, nor King in Israel, 
 Only infinite jumble and mess and dislocation, 
 Backed by a solemn appeal, ' For God's sake do not stir, 
 there!"' 
 
 That was about it ; Clough understood. When 
 you wanted to make an effort toward mending 
 things ever so little, no matter where or how, they 
 would not let you, and probably considered you 
 presumptuous and profane : if you kept on trying, 
 you would be pilloried or starved. How could 
 'Well done' be said at last supposing there was 
 anybody to say it when one had no chance to 
 do anything ? Just earning one's bread and 
 cheese, and helping to oil the machinery by which 
 the firm grew rich, was not doing, it was only 
 pretending. Such seemed the way all around ; 
 a set of children playing at this and that, and
 
 264 An Undomestic Interior. 
 
 making believe it was real and important. Your 
 life might be a lie, your whole work unsound and 
 poisonous, and then the Bishop in your, funeral 
 sermon would praise your persistent energy, and 
 set you up as an example to the young. Energy ! 
 One could be energetic for substances, but not 
 for shams. The building materials approved and 
 used seemed no better than wood, hay, stubble ; 
 where was the gold, the silver, the precious stones 
 that could withstand the fire ? Where the large 
 and noble aim, the hold on reality, the sincere 
 and simple truth ? Gone out of fashion long ago ; 
 driven to the graveyard or the poorhouse with 
 those who cared for them. Ah well, he had been 
 through this wood a hundred times, and always 
 came out at the same place nowhere. Better 
 go to bed now, or he might be late at the shop 
 to-morrow.
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 AT DINNER WITH MR. LEAF. 
 
 GRAFTON expected to hear no more of his 
 selections ; but a few days later Mr. Prance came 
 to him and asked where he took his dinners, and 
 whether he were engaged for that evening. He 
 answered that he never had engagements unless 
 on Sundays, and dined anywhere, at restaurants 
 about town. The older man said he was in the 
 same boat just then, and invited his junior to 
 call at the Bat tie- Axe office at half-past five. As 
 they rode up town (Dick usually walked both ways, 
 for reasons sanitary and financial), it appeared 
 that they were going to encounter a circle of 
 artists. 
 
 "But I know almost nothing about art," Dick 
 objected. 
 
 " You're not required to ; they don't want to 
 talk shop. They are very good fellows, and gen- 
 erally meet at dinner for company's sake : I often 
 join them when I'm alone at home. They look 
 up places that give the most and best victuals
 
 266 At Dinner with Mr. Leaf. 
 
 and drink and style for fifty to seventy-five 
 cents." 
 
 " Not kept by natives, I suppose. I fed more 
 Americano in the West, and now I try to get a 
 change." 
 
 " Certainly ; foreigners understand these things 
 much better than we, when economy is an object. 
 Few of these men can afford more than a dollar 
 a day for food, and yet they like a glass of wine 
 and a touch of Paris or Vienna or Florence : they 
 favor an Italian place this month. You see, we 
 get enough of our own trade in working hours, 
 if they don't. These painters come the nearest 
 of what's left now to the old Bohemia : they take 
 a man on his merits, no questions asked as to 
 what you're worth or what you've done, and you 
 feel at home at once. It's the most thorough 
 realization of democratic equality to be found in 
 America, among people who know something and 
 amount to something. General society in Balti- 
 more has, or had, a little of this openness, but in 
 no northern city that I've heard of." 
 
 They entered an eating-house on Third Av- 
 enue ; it was small but neat, and nearly full at 
 that early hour. Several gentlemen hailed Prance 
 jovially, and made room at one of the tables ; 
 most of their names seemed familiar to Dick as 
 he was introduced. As a waiter brought in the 
 claret, "Hold on," said one of the artists: "let 
 us have the Neapolitan instead, in your big jug.
 
 At Dinner with Mr. Leaf. 267 
 
 He's got that lately, and it's not meant for out- 
 siders : you'll see the difference." Six courses 
 were produced successively, each a single dish ; 
 the macaroni was beyond competition. An aver- 
 age appetite need ask for nothing more, unless 
 in the way of dessert. The talk ranged from 
 Siberia to Texas, and from the last People to the 
 last prizefight : the newcomer was accepted as 
 one of themselves, and felt as if among friends. 
 Cigars were lit, but long before they were finished 
 Prance said he must be off. 
 
 " It's an unchristian habit," one of the others 
 remarked, "this working at night. I hope you're 
 not going to train Mr. Grafton to it." 
 
 " He should have belonged to your order," 
 Prance replied. " You votaries of the ideal can 
 take life easily ; we slaves of stern reality have no 
 hours to spare." 
 
 When they were in the street he went on, 
 " Some whom you'd be apt to meet there earlier 
 or later are out of town : these fellows are stalled 
 here now." 
 
 " Why, I thought Purple and Indigo had a good 
 deal of reputation." 
 
 " So they have in a way, but not a way that 
 brings much income with it. What you've seen of 
 theirs were merely potboilers in our papers and 
 the like. They paint very well, but it's not every 
 season that they can sell pictures enough to take 
 them to the Adirondacs or the Maine coast. Their
 
 268 At Dinner with Mr. Leaf. 
 
 studios are rented by the year, and they sleep 
 there, whereas they would have to pay for lodging 
 as well as board in the country. If last year's 
 sketches give out, they'll go a little way up the 
 Hudson or into Jersey in October. Then they're 
 used to this kind of living, and to each other's 
 company : they go out hardly more than you and 
 I. Yes, they make little more than we, and with 
 us it's less precarious as long as we keep our 
 places." 
 
 " But Mr. Leaf surely is a man of note. I was 
 surprised to meet him in such a place." 
 
 "O, he goes anywhere with the boys. You 
 might have been surprised to meet Kirk, or Lag 
 erland, or Persimmons: those aristocrats of the 
 brush are at their palatial villas now, and never 
 dine in Third Avenue nor mix with you and me. 
 Yes, Leaf has a national and you might say a 
 European fame, but it's largely in the past, and 
 orders are not plenty with him at present. He's 
 stiff in his notions, though not in his manners ; at 
 near seventy he's the youngest of that set, and a 
 royal good fellow. The purest democrat I know : 
 he resents any show of deference to his age, or 
 his talents, or his repute ; it's manhood suffrage 
 with him, or nothing. He's worth your knowing 
 further ; no man in New York more so. Drop 
 in at his studio when you have a spare hour, as 
 he suggested."
 
 At Dinner with Mr. Leaf. 269 
 
 " O, that was a mere form of courtesy, I 
 imagine." 
 
 "These men don't use forms of courtesy, my 
 lad not for form's sake. What they say they 
 mean, and Leaf especially. He'll be as glad to see 
 you as if you were a millionaire ; more so, for he 
 hates men of money, and takes you for a man of 
 mind. Go look at his Shakspeare head, and draw 
 him out on the Sonnets. He's a rare talker, and 
 always has time and will to entertain a friend." 
 
 " I should think he'd be in demand socially, with 
 his face, and celebrity, and attainments, and pe- 
 culiar charm of manner at lion-hunting houses, 
 you know." 
 
 " They couldn't get him if they tried, and 
 they've forgotten his existence, if they ever knew 
 of it. He's out of date, as I told you." 
 
 " Has he lost his skill? He doesn't look it, nor 
 talk as if he were failing." 
 
 " Not a bit of it, but he's lost his prestige some- 
 how. He's his own man, and holds to his own 
 ideas, which is not the way to be a favorite. His 
 success was won by original talent, and lost by 
 original character independence. The stream 
 has flowed past him, and he doesn't care. He's 
 been everywhere in his day, and known everybody ; 
 now he's done with life, in some respects. Except 
 for a few visitors, and these younger brothers of 
 the craft he meets at dinner, he lives like a 
 hermit."
 
 2/O At Dinner with Mr. Leaf. 
 
 " \yhat you say sounds like a virulent satire 
 not on him, but on a community that could 
 neglect him and let him drop out of sight." 
 
 " Very likely : such is life in New York, and 
 I judge elsewhere too." 
 
 " But I thought if you once made a success, it 
 would last as long as you deserved it." 
 
 " Not much. You've got to keep on making it ; 
 to study the arts of pleasing and advertising, and 
 keep yourself right with the public. You should 
 hear Flanigan talk ; he says most of what sells is 
 not art at all, but junk, and he'd rather go out 
 whitewashing, or borrow of everybody he knows 
 (which he does, by the way, and never pays), than 
 conform to prevailing canons. A man may begin 
 right, as Leaf did, and make a hit ; then presently 
 they want him to caricature himself, which Leaf 
 wouldn't do, and drop him because he wont. To 
 real men, oftener than to shams, success comes by 
 caprice, and goes the same way : the sham can 
 generally hold it when he's once got it. Leaf 
 might as well have died ten years ago. I care 
 for few, but he'd be one if there were no other. 
 When I go anywhere I go to see him. If you're 
 bashful about it I'll take you, late some night. 
 Here's my corner, and there are other things I 
 want to talk to you about. Come round at nine, 
 or say half-past, will you ? "
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 BUSINESS SECRETS. 
 
 WHEN they were again seated on the little bal- 
 cony, Mr. Prance said with a guilty air, " You 
 wouldn't have expected it of me, nor I either, but 
 I've actually looked over those things you picked 
 out of the dust-heap the ones you were sure 
 about. I wanted to see what your judgment was 
 worth ; and by George, it's sound. That stuff 
 will go in sooner or later, somewhere or other, 
 and the writers' names are ticketed on our white 
 list. I've kept the addresses for you, in case you 
 should want to be remembered in their prayers. 
 Two of them were never heard of before, and one 
 is a man who has long been trying, without success 
 till now ; very likely, as you say, because he had 
 no chance. So you may have laid the foundation 
 of their fortunes. But what's more to the purpose 
 is this ; I've seen Perkins, and you're out of that 
 scrape though it was a near thing, and you 
 mustn't get into another. I've talked with Lybert 
 too, and told them both that you have what is
 
 272 Business Secrets. 
 
 rather uncommon, a good nose the power of 
 really sifting MSS., and an instinct for what's 
 worth preserving ; and that if they should ever 
 want to modify our system, and institute a more 
 careful examination of what comes in from un- 
 privileged quarters, you might be valuable. At 
 first they hooted at the idea ; then after awhile 
 they admitted that it might possibly be worth 
 considering as among the contingencies of the 
 remote future. So you're comparatively in their 
 good books ; though I don't want you to touch 
 Jones' work again, if it can be avoided not as 
 things are now. And you needn't think what I 
 said to you the other night was all gammon, for 
 most of it was true, and sounder than advice gen- 
 erally is. Coming in lately from outside, you 
 might take it as the mere ex parte opinion of an 
 old fogy who knew nothing outside the shop." 
 
 " I'm not quite such a fool as that, Mr. Prance. 
 I defer to your ability and infinitely greater expe- 
 rience, of course. I appreciate your kindness, and 
 the obvious weight of sincerity in most things you 
 say except when you amuse yourself with guy- 
 ing a new hand." 
 
 " What I said then had as much truth in it as 
 the rest, if you knew how to take it. I never talk 
 seriously to a man till I've sized him up. Respect 
 for one's elders is so nearly one of the lost arts 
 that I'm agreeably surprised when I meet it, and 
 perhaps this has put me off my base in your
 
 Business Secrets. 273 
 
 favor. Well, you're not to have Jones' place now ; 
 the office would have to be revolutionized to make 
 it worth your while, and that will hardly occur in 
 my time. But you may be called in as a Reader, 
 to go through stuff offered for publication in per- 
 manent form." 
 
 " So that is considered higher work than hand- 
 ling the shorter contributions ? " 
 
 " Yes, for these are meant to be really looked at 
 more or less sometimes, at any rate. A book is 
 supposed to be a bigger thing than a magazine 
 article, though it finds fewer readers in almost 
 every case, and in four out of five doesn't pay 
 expenses." 
 
 " I don't see how publishers make money then. 
 Who bears the loss ? " 
 
 "The author, if the house is sharp, and its Reader 
 has made the right report. Who do you suppose 
 pays for all these volumes of verse, for instance ? 
 A young fellow came in from the woods shortly 
 before you arrived, to see about his first venture. 
 ' How many copies of these do you want struck 
 off ? ' we asked him. ' I don't know ; about fifteen 
 hundred would do, I fancy,' says he. 'Better say 
 a hundred and fifty,' says the firm; 'that'll be 
 plenty for you and your friends, and the few critics 
 who care to cut you up, and leave some for the 
 mill. You don't want to sink over two hundred 
 dollars on this foolishness, do you ? ' You see 
 Lybert doesn't care for that kind of business;
 
 274 Business Secrets. 
 
 there's no great profit in it, and no credit at all 
 it makes him look like a mere manufacturer. The 
 houses of highest tone profess to eschew this line 
 of operations, and accept nothing not specially 
 approved, even at the writer's risk ; though most 
 of the learned and technical books, and lots of 
 which you wouldn't think it, really come out on 
 those terms." 
 
 "Then one has to pay for the privilege of 
 putting the fruit of his researches, or his imagin- 
 ings, before the world ? " 
 
 "Of course; how else? unless his name, or 
 his subject, or his handling of it, or all together, 
 are sure to sell largely, which can seldom be. 
 Bookmaking has grown so out of bounds that it 
 has come to be a bore and a nuisance and a pest. 
 Poetry's a mere drug, which nobody wants to take. 
 You remember the old saw, 
 
 ' Swans sing before they die ; 'twere no bad thing 
 Did certain persons die before they sing.' 
 
 Well, that's nearly all of them ; and prose is not 
 much better. I can't see what Job and Solomon 
 knew about it, but our enemies are making books 
 forever and without end. In fact, writers as a 
 class are the foes of mankind, and will soon be so 
 regarded." 
 
 By this time Dick knew the old gentleman well 
 enough to take some moderate liberties. "And 
 yet you get your living by them, Mr. Prance."
 
 Business Secrets. 275 
 
 " As the policeman does by the criminal classes ; 
 that's all. I get my living by standing guard 
 against their encroachments, and protecting the 
 community from them as far as possible." 
 
 "I don't believe the writers generally under- 
 stand this, nor the public. They think the gov- 
 erning idea of the literary market is free trade, 
 including not only pirated reprints, but every fel- 
 low's having his own chance. By what you say, 
 it's severe protection, with a strong leaning to 
 monopolies. It looks as if we and the few scores 
 or hundreds whom we print made a close corpora- 
 tion, determined to exclude competitors, and keep 
 the supply just what it is." 
 
 " That's the case exactly, Grafton, except that 
 the supply is always increasing perforce, and it's 
 our business to prevent its increasing too fast. 
 Writers die and go to their reward, and their works 
 do follow them if they haven't gone before. 
 Books that were popular yesterday are out of date 
 and demand to-morrow, but far too many come in 
 their place : we stand in the way, and put on pro- 
 hibitory duties, or as near as may be. When you 
 come to be a Reader, remember that you're in the 
 custom-house to prevent smuggling. I hope you 
 have no yearnings toward authorship ?" 
 
 " Not after what you tell me. Perhaps I had, in 
 a vague way, at one time ; but if they were not 
 dead before now, they would hardly survive these 
 admonitions."
 
 276 Business Secrets. 
 
 " They would be the ruin of you ; Grafton if 
 such desires ever rise again, tear them out by the 
 roots and fling them far from you. Take me for 
 a warning, if you will : I've borne a share in the 
 guilt and in the punishment. It's a painful sub- 
 ject, but long ago I wrote several books, and I've 
 never recovered from the effects. It gives a fatally 
 wrong direction to one's mind. It's a bad thing 
 to be mixed up with literature at all, even as we 
 are, in this comparatively useful way of warding 
 off inflictions from the public. If we had not taken 
 the itch, though in this modified form, we might 
 have come to some good end, in soap, or stocks, 
 or salt fish, or boots and shoes. You needn't 
 smile, my poor young friend ; if you've not learned 
 your lesson yet, you will in time. Do you think 
 even Lybert is happy ? No, sir. True, he's made 
 near a million ; but he sees others who began at 
 the same time and went into something really 
 necessary to the welfare of mankind, such as 
 whiskey, or tobacco, or Wall Street, or explosive 
 compounds, and are now worth ten times as much. 
 No, in his heart he's not content with the book 
 trade." 
 
 "You may gibe at our betters, Mr. Prance, if 
 you like ; but don't try to persuade me that you 
 think moneymaking the end of man, for I know 
 better." 
 
 " Yes, youth is always self-confident and bump- 
 tious, but age is cautious and doubtful. I'm sure
 
 Business Secrets. 277 
 
 I don't know what the end of man is ; do you ? 
 But they don't pay us for our opinions except 
 when we have to sit in judgment on a manuscript, 
 which, as I said, is a bad business."
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 BOOKS, 'READERS,' AND WRITERS. 
 
 DICK began to doubt whether such instructions 
 as the veteran might deliver in his present mood 
 were to be taken literally ; these utterances, how- 
 ever improving, were not strictly to the point. 
 " Still, you say that is likely to be my business to 
 some extent. How shall I go about it ? " 
 
 "The first thing is to settle what not to do; 
 that is always the most important. I've been 
 trying to impress on you the necessity of writing 
 nothing (except in a small way as called for) and 
 avoiding all literary acquaintance. If you attempt 
 to ring in your own productions or those of your 
 friends, you will soon be under the ban : even 
 Perkins has to be careful about that. Confine 
 yourself absolutely to MSS. committed to you at 
 the shop in the regular way, and don't dream of 
 increasing the number." 
 
 "That, of course. I presume they wouldn't 
 give me anything in divinity, or the fine arts, or 
 other fields I'm not familiar with ? "
 
 Books, 'Readers? and Writers. 279 
 
 " Why not ? You could tell how they were 
 likely to impress the general public. You know 
 Jerrold said he never read a book before reviewing 
 it, it prejudiced him so. The same truth applies 
 to a too minute or profound knowledge of a sub- 
 ject at large. School books, and treatises on 
 pyrotechnics and perfumery, when examined at 
 all, might go to an expert. But in what will be 
 apt to come to you chiefly, cases in which you 
 have to judge not of alleged facts, but simply of 
 thought and style, your trouble will be the other 
 way, from excess, not defect." 
 
 " In me ? How do you mean ? " 
 
 " You're not sufficiently woodenheaded. You'll 
 be looking for merits, when you're wanted to find 
 defects. You'll not be easily able to get Gold- 
 smith's maxim out of your head, that life and not 
 blamelessness is the desideratum. We don't go 
 by that. A thing may be full of juice, and yet not 
 suited to us at all ; whereas if it's simply strong 
 and original, you'd be apt to recommend it." 
 
 "Why, certainly. We want strength and orig- 
 inality, don't we ? " 
 
 " Not if they have the defects of their qualities, 
 as they usually will. We want Propriety. It 
 matters comparatively little about stimulating 
 thought or rousing emotion, provided we print 
 nothing to start a blush on the cheek of innocence, 
 or disturb the conventional calm of accepted stan- 
 dards. Successful preachers, you know, pick out
 
 280 Books, ' Readers 1 and Writers. 
 
 the dullest man in the audience, and aim their 
 discourse at him : those who knew something 
 before they came, and haven't patience to hear the 
 rudiments laid level to the meanest apprehension, 
 can go home they are but a small minority. 
 The average mind is commonplace : a writer who 
 would be popular must address that, and a Reader 
 must see that he does." 
 
 "But this would exclude our best, as Cravatton, 
 and Jacobs, and Miss Lambson, and Mrs. Firett. 
 They did not make their way by commonplace 
 dulness : either in style or situations, in narrative 
 or analysis, they give us something new, and 
 freely handled. So did the great masters of the 
 last generation ; so " 
 
 " O yes, of course. You're talking of those 
 already known ; they can do what they please, and 
 their books don't come to you for approval. I 
 speak of new writers, whose effort to cross the 
 line is an intrusion to be resented. That makes 
 all the difference in the world. They've not estab- 
 lished their right to be heard, and the presumption 
 is against them. So, when you once get your 
 hand in, you will bring to their pages a weary and 
 reluctant mind, corresponding to that of the jaded 
 critic or the fatigued though unprofessional wader 
 through ten novels a week ; that's the right point 
 of view. You're dealing with trespassers, remem- 
 ber : if they attempt to be funny, they are vulgar ; 
 if they pretend to individuality, that is also an
 
 Books, ' Readers ,' and Writers. 281 
 
 impertinence. As mere beginners their duty is to 
 respect precedents and follow the beaten paths in 
 serious humility. It wont do for you to report 
 favorably on anything that is not imitatively cus- 
 tomary and decorously conservative. Nothing is 
 more offensive than a striving after originality, 
 and nothing more tiresome than mechanical and 
 perfunctory humor." 
 
 " But suppose the humor is natural and the 
 originality genuine ? What right have I to stick 
 to a rigid assumption of the contrary ? " 
 
 " You must assume it : it's a priori probable, 
 and will in most cases be true. The favorable 
 supposition is against the doctrine of chances, and 
 the whole body of our rules and precedents. All 
 we expect of a first novel is to tell us when and 
 where John Henry Jackson was born, the color of 
 his hair and eyes, and the details of his adventures 
 in love, war, and politics, with his ultimate suc- 
 cess in unmasking the villain and discovering his 
 grandfather's will. Let this be set forth in good 
 plain English, such as is taught in any of our 
 colleges and academies, with no rude obtrusion of 
 his own ideas on the writer's part. Should he 
 succeed, he can sprinkle these over his later works 
 without irreverence ; we'll bear them then." 
 
 " But I might reject a book which takes a line 
 of its own, and so fails to conform to this very 
 moderate standard, and then some other house 
 risks it, and it makes a marked success. What 
 then?"
 
 282 Books, 'Readers? and Writers. 
 
 " That doesn't matter : the firm wont recollect 
 that it was offered to them, and you needn't tell. 
 Practically you are always safe in rejecting ; in 
 accepting the danger lies. Never forget that you 
 are set to guard the firm against losses, and the 
 public, in some small degree, against the waste of 
 its precious time." 
 
 " But how can I tell whether a book will sell or 
 not ? You say yourself that it is all guesswork. 
 The only point I can pronounce upon is intrinsic 
 merit, literary character. Some books don't suc- 
 ceed that ought to, and vice versa" 
 
 " Make your report according to what you find 
 on the lines just indicated; and in a case of 
 doubt (which is almost always, except with a mar- 
 ketable reputation, and that doesn't concern you) 
 advise publication, if at all, at the author's risk. 
 He seldom has any money, so it comes to the same 
 thing. When you reject, write him a few civil 
 lines in the firm's name, saying that his work has 
 merit but is not quite in our line, and you would 
 advise his sending it to the Sunday School Union ; 
 or that the story is rather too slight, and you 
 regret your inability to persuade yourselves that it 
 is expedient to put it in cold type before a callous 
 world ; or that in the present terribly depressed 
 condition of the fiction market the counsel of your 
 literary advisers (that's you) is adverse to the 
 probability of securing for the book such favorable 
 attention from the critics and the public as you
 
 Books, 'Readers' and Writers. 283 
 
 consider important for a volume bearing your 
 (that's our) imprint. You can enlarge on the 
 injury done to home literature by cheap reprints ; 
 that's perfectly true. And always sling in a little 
 style on these occasions ; it shows 'em that we can 
 write, whether they can or not." 
 
 " All this is very hard on the young authors, I 
 must say : they seem to be friendless and defence- 
 less. Is there no brotherly feeling among the 
 guild ? " 
 
 "There used to be, when writers were compara- 
 tively few and life less rapid ; but now the profes- 
 sion's crowded, the pace stiff, and it's each for 
 himself and the devil take the hindmost. Any 
 fraternity has to guard its doors and keep out the 
 riffraff ; and you know what human nature is. If 
 you and I got into the car at the last crossing, we 
 grudge to make room for those who enter at the 
 next ; if we're off for the summer and registered 
 yesterday, we look down on to-day's arrivals and 
 feel that they have no business to be so close on 
 our heels. Why can't they stay at home or go 
 somewhere else, and let us have a good quiet 
 time ? At least they needn't expect us to show 
 them around, and point out the paths and views, 
 and explain the rules of the place ; let them find 
 out for themselves, as we did. You see there's a 
 strong and general impression that the hotel, or 
 the conveyance, or whatever it may be, is full, and 
 in this case it's only too well founded. Litera-
 
 284 Books, 'Readers? and Writers. 
 
 ture's a trade like anything else. A successful 
 author must be methodical to get through his 
 work, and his time's worth so much an hour ; he 
 can't waste it on poor scrubs who want to be 
 taught, first how to write, and then how to sell 
 their scribblings. Most of these aspirants are 
 lame ducks anyway, and it's best to regard them 
 all as such till one out of a thousand has proved 
 himself an exception." 
 
 "You don't hold this hidebound selfishness 
 essential to success, do you ? " 
 
 " I hold that one may break his heart over 
 other's woes, or starve himself to feed the hungry, 
 and get small thanks for it in this world ; how it 
 is in the next I can't say, never having been there. 
 Charity must be organized to be effective. If I 
 were to go into philanthropy I should want to be 
 paid for it. 
 
 " And yet you are taking some pains to post me, 
 and keep me out of scrapes, and get me started 
 right." 
 
 "We were talking of authors; I'm out of that 
 branch since the fifties, and if you go into it I'll 
 disown you. But you needn't suspect me of dis- 
 interestedness. I like to hear myself talk, after 
 nine p. M., and you're a good listener. Then 
 when my daughter's away so long I get lonesome, 
 and you're much the same sort of innocent donkey 
 that I was at your age. Besides, you may be of 
 use some day ; any good you get by me I expect 
 to take out of you with inte rest."
 
 Books, ' Readers? and Writers. 285 
 
 " I hope you will. You speak of the old days 
 when beginners found some sympathy and en- 
 couragement. Was that in Willis' time ? " 
 
 " Nat had a mania for playing godfather. He 
 was wild to catch recruits, bring them to the front, 
 and predict their coming greatness so long as 
 they weren't his sister Sara. He had a good eye 
 for points too ; he would have been the chief for 
 you, and you the lieutenant for him. Poor Nat, 
 he's forgotten already, or remembered only as a 
 worse fellow than he was. Bayard Taylor was 
 another with a heart open to all comers, corre- 
 sponding with every small poet in the land ; if 
 he'd had a paper of his own, he might have been 
 a better duenna even than Willis. These two 
 burned the candle at both ends, and died in their 
 prime, when meaner men could have lived in peace 
 to eighty. Too much heart ! Taylor spent him- 
 self on others ; it doesn't pay. Ever hear what a 
 certain statesman said of him ? ' Nothing in him, 
 positively nothing.' Such is fame. We're wiser 
 now ; we look to number one, and save up health 
 and dollars. Remember that, youngster, and be a 
 man of your own era." 
 
 Mr. Prance's countenance was nearly as grim 
 as his monitions ; but Dick suspected an ironic 
 vein, and taking them cum grano, was less dis- 
 mayed by this definition of his duties than he 
 might have been a week before.
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 MISS LOUISE. 
 
 
 
 BUT for his new friend's advice, it is doubtful 
 whether Grafton could have held his place three 
 months ; at least that was his matured opinion 
 later. Thanks to the hints and guidance of one 
 who had been long behind the scenes, and grown 
 from something near enough for sympathy to 
 what Dick was into that in substance which Dick 
 now saw he must become, he managed to steer 
 between the Scylla of his preconceived notions 
 and the Charybdis of mundane demoralization and 
 unmitigated practicality. He became an expert 
 in inspecting MSS. as well as a dextrous trimmer 
 of notices and literary items : not more than once 
 did Mr. Perkins need to say, " This is too long, 
 Mr. Grafton. We do not require so much elabo- 
 ration : just the main points, hit off incisively, so 
 that he who runs may read ; with snap, you know, 
 and a little flourish." The accomplished editor- 
 in-chief (for if this awful function did not belong 
 to Mr. Perkins, then whose was it ?) relaxed the
 
 Miss Louise. 287 
 
 languid remoteness of his manner, and grew 
 almost confidential ; it was understood that the 
 recruit had passed his entrance examinations, and 
 could be trusted at least a yard or two out of 
 sight. That he was in love with his duties would 
 be too much to say, but he knew they suited him 
 better probably than any others within his reach : 
 he had put his hand to the plough, and admitted 
 no thought of turning back. Developing under 
 pressure the faculty of rapid and methodical labor, 
 he was able to increase his tasks, and with them 
 his earnings : in time he was inducted at the 
 Battle-Axe office, and assumed some minor occu- 
 pations there. But this is anticipating. 
 
 Throughout that first summer he saw much of 
 Mr. Prance, and often dined with the veteran and 
 his artist friends. He spent more than one leisure 
 hour in the studios, and listened to Mr. Leaf's 
 laudations of the Shakspeare Sonnets and dia- 
 tribes against the hermetic interpretation thereof. 
 The talk of the younger painters refreshed his 
 home and foreign geography ; he drank in Flani- 
 gan's vituperative comments on contemporary 
 art, and went home poorer by the price of the 
 satirist's next breakfast. 
 
 Among these acquaintances he learned some- 
 thing of Mr. Prance's past. "That man has a 
 history," they stated, " though he wont talk about 
 it." He had begun with what were considered 
 brilliant talents and prospects ; had travelled
 
 288 Miss Louise. 
 
 abroad, married early, and put forth a volume of 
 verse, a novel, and some essays which made a 
 noise in their day. " You'll find them mentioned 
 in the cyclopaedias and histories," said Mr. Leaf, 
 " but they're long out of print. He might as 
 well have died twenty years ago : he and I are 
 fossils, survivals of the unfittest. He's taken 
 life harder than I ; he looks over sixty, and he's 
 scarcely fifty-five. There was good stuff in his 
 books, but luck was against him." A course 
 of luxurious and hospitable living was cut short 
 by the total loss of his property, through the 
 dishonesty or carelessness of agents whom he 
 trusted and friends for whom he had endorsed ; 
 the death of two children was followed by that 
 of his wife, and at thirty-six he was left with an 
 infant daughter. " But for her he would have gone 
 to the dogs or underground, I believe ; only that 
 responsibility kept him up. If I had had his load 
 to carry I should have fallen beneath it. There 
 are things nearer than money, that are harder to 
 lose." So he had taken shelter in the outworks 
 of literature, and lived ever since by labors more 
 or less editorial. " You can't call him a hack, his 
 leaders are too strong for that ; but he does them 
 as he might lay pavement or cobble shoes." They 
 had no relatives but some remote cousins on a 
 New Hampshire farm, to whom the daughter was 
 always sent in summer. " She wouldn't leave 
 her father but that he insists : however little
 
 Miss Louise. 289 
 
 might come in, he has put by a hundred every 
 year since she was eight to get her away from 
 town in July and August. She's a nice quiet 
 girl, but it's a narrow life, and very different from 
 what he would like for her. It's this contrast 
 with the past that makes him gruff, but he's gold 
 inside his sort stands the fire. A generation 
 ago there was no more gallant and jovial fellow 
 in New York than he. They used to entertain 
 magnificently : it was one of the best houses. 
 Popular was no name for him ; but after the 
 crash he hid from sight, and of course was soon 
 forgotten." 
 
 The old artist's beautiful eyes were moist. 
 " Well, well, he's borne up under it, and there's no 
 need for us to break down. I'm glad he's taken 
 this fancy to you ; he leads far too solitary a life." 
 
 Dick had a Chinese reverence for age, and the 
 spectacle of these graybeards summing each other 
 up in almost the same terms struck him as pa- 
 thetic rather than humorous. 
 
 One evening in early September he mounted 
 to the second floor on East Sixteenth Street, 
 where he knew himself a welcome visitor. For 
 once his host was not alone ; a slight fair girl 
 answered to his knock. He noticed her no more 
 than courtesy required, found an errand in some 
 circumstance of his work, and cut short his call 
 with an apology for disturbing the reunion of 
 parent and child. He was not in the humor for
 
 290 Miss Louise. 
 
 feminine society then, and possibly had as much 
 of it as he cared for in his half compulsory Sun- 
 days at Oaklands. For the next week or two he 
 avoided Mr. Prance's rooms, and when he went 
 again, the girl presently arose and withdrew. 
 This coldness between the young people seemed 
 to oppress the older man, but his invitations were 
 not urgent, and Dick remembered how jealously 
 he guarded his daughter. 
 
 At last, on a lovely October night, goaded by 
 the fear of seeming ungrateful and neglectful, he 
 sallied forth, and was discomfited at finding Miss 
 Louise alone in the den. "Father is out, for a 
 wonder," she said, "but he'll be back soon. No; 
 sit down, please," for Dick was nervously saying 
 that his business was not pressing, and he would 
 not intrude ; " he wants to see you, I know, and 
 and I want to talk to you a little." 
 
 She blushed, and he was conscious of some 
 alarm : he was not much accustomed to young 
 ladies, and his attitude toward this one was com- 
 plicated by his relations with her father. Yet 
 there could be no great danger in that ingenuous 
 face, that rippling light-brown hair, those honest 
 blue eyes timidly raised to his. I am not going 
 to describe Miss Prance any further : she was 
 well enough, but nothing to look at beside or 
 after Edith De Grout. 
 
 "Mr. Grafton," she went on, " I'm afraid I have 
 driven you away."
 
 Miss Louise. 
 
 291 
 
 "O no," he stammered, "not at all. But the 
 last time I was here I seemed to drive you away." 
 
 " I didn't want to disturb you. But the time 
 before that the first time, you remember you 
 went away almost as soon as you came in ; and 
 you know you would have stayed till eleven or 
 twelve if I hadn't been here." 
 
 " That's not so certain," Dick answered more 
 confidently, "for sometimes your father sends 
 me off by ten, when he's very tired ; and that 
 time I knew he wanted to see you." 
 
 "And this time I know he wants to see you, 
 as I told you. He has so few friends that is, 
 so few that he cares about and likes to have come. 
 I never stay in here when it will interfere with 
 his visitors, and you're almost the only one. I'll 
 go away now if you'll promise to wait for him." 
 
 " O, that wont do at all ; I couldn't think of it. 
 But you see, Miss Prance, I know your father's 
 very particular about you, and doesn't like to have 
 everybody coming here ; and as a stranger 
 
 " But you're not a stranger ,- as if I didn't know 
 all about you, from his letters through the sum- 
 mer ! He writes me regularly twice a week, you 
 know, when I'm away. And you're not every- 
 body, but somebody very particular, and not at 
 all fond of ladies ; so I couldn't blame you, though 
 I did want to see you and explain that you must 
 come here just the same, and I would try to keep 
 out of the room."
 
 292 Miss Louise. 
 
 " And do you suppose I would be welcome here 
 when I drove you out ? No ; if I come you will 
 have to go on just as if I were not here." 
 
 " O, I can be very quiet, and not interrupt ; 
 and I do love to hear papa talk. But if I come 
 in you must do just as you would if I were away." 
 
 So they patched up a modus vivendi, on the 
 basis of ignoring each other, before Mr. Prance 
 entered he being in the mind of each the chief 
 person to be considered ; and from that time the 
 conferences on literature from a more or less 
 mercantile point of view were continued in pres- 
 ence of an auditor, but with no great disturbance 
 from that cause. Dick's thoughts did not run 
 to young women, and this one was sufficiently 
 harmless. Though near twenty and brought up 
 in New York, she knew little of the world and 
 its wiles. Her father had managed to send her 
 to private schools, and she had acquired a toler- 
 able taste for books ; she was of a retiring dispo- 
 sition, and happily content with few resources ; 
 her friends and her amusements were far from 
 numerous. How a girl manages to get through 
 the week, in almost total solitude till evening, 
 with only her limited housekeeping and three 
 rooms and her father's shelves for occupation, 
 I really do not know. No doubt there are thou- 
 sands in Babylon as narrowly cooped in as she, 
 kept by instincts and traditions from mingling 
 with the grossness round them, and hopelessly
 
 Miss Louise. 293 
 
 cut off from society either extensive or select. 
 Louise had at least her father's company at break- 
 fast and dinner (he never sought his artist friends 
 and the Italian restaurant when she was at home) 
 and after nine P.M. ; and while he wrote she could 
 sit in the den and sew or read. For two months 
 each year city grime and dust were exchanged for 
 the rural sights and enlivening breezes of a moun- 
 tain farm ; and then she made her own gowns 
 a practice which I am told combines enjoyable 
 employment with economy, for any young person 
 who has a knack that way and not much cash 
 to spare. Thus fortified, she somehow escaped 
 devouring ennui and desire for flirtations with 
 the grocer's boy on the corner. The wind is 
 tempered to our bareness, and Heaven has en- 
 dowed the more helpless sex with a mighty fund 
 of patience. 
 
 In time Grafton grew reconciled to this appen- 
 dage to his Mentor, and came to regard her as an 
 inoffensive fellow creature who had been assigned 
 some small supernumerary part on the by no 
 means crowded boards of his unsensational drama. 
 It even occurred to him to contribute mild assuage- 
 ments to her loneliness now and then. I am sure 
 he never furnished her with flowers or caramels, 
 for these are costly luxuries ; but sometimes when 
 he had tickets from the Battle-Axe he would take 
 her to a play or other scene of delight, and the 
 following spring they might be observed on fine
 
 294 Miss Louise. 
 
 Sundays in the Park, or at Coney Island before 
 the crowd began to go. Mr. Prance viewed these 
 proceedings with tolerance, rather glad that the 
 poor child should have some little entertainment, 
 and troubled his head with no fear of the conse- 
 quences. He was not addicted to playing Provi- 
 dence in other than a negative way, and Grafton 
 was wholly to be trusted and perfectly ineligible.
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 
 EXIGENCIES OF LITERATURE. 
 
 DICK'S account of Mr. Prance aroused my 
 curiosity, and I asked him to introduce me at the 
 den. The sage gave a reluctant consent, and 
 sometimes, when my wife was out of town, I was 
 admitted to partake the feast of reason. As soon 
 as I knew the old gentleman well enough, I ven- 
 tured to compliment him on his influence over my 
 friend. " You have done him all the good in the 
 world ; really, you have made quite a little man of 
 him. He always needed somebody to look after 
 him and keep him straight, and he never would 
 listen to me, because I'm not much older than he 
 is." 
 
 The host and his daughter looked as if they 
 thought that my advice would have had but limited 
 value under any circumstances, and Dick came to 
 my assistance. " You see, Bob, you and I are 
 very differently situated ; our spheres are wide 
 apart. But Mr. Prance and myself are in the same 
 line of business, and and have other things in
 
 296 Exigencies of Literature. 
 
 common." (He meant poverty, but it was not 
 manners to say so.) " So he has kindly given me 
 the great benefit of his experience, and of his ex- 
 ample. An ounce of that, you know, is worth a 
 ton of mere preaching like yours." 
 
 "Yes," said the old man, "I could help Grafton 
 to solve some of his problems, because I had done 
 the same sums for myself long before. There was 
 a time when I held it degradation to touch any 
 work that did not square with my liking, and gave 
 taste and temperament the name of principle. I 
 was fastidious and self-indulgent, and must do 
 things in my own way or not at all." 
 
 "That's Grafton to a T.," said I. "As I've 
 often told him, laziness was his trouble." 
 
 " O no," said the young lady ; " I'm sure he's 
 not lazy at all. Why, he works almost as hard as 
 you, doesn't he, papa ? " 
 
 " It is a kind of laziness," her father resumed ; 
 "not precisely either intellectual or physical indo- 
 lence, but allied to them as being emotional or 
 moral temperamental, we might say. As such 
 it is well enough for the dilettante whose nest 
 is feathered, but quite incompatible with active 
 exertion. When one has dinner to get and rent 
 to pay, he must cast his finer sense and sorer 
 shame aside, as Newman says. Necessity is the 
 mother not only of useful inventions but of ethical 
 discoveries. I found I could do without a throb 
 things of which the bare idea would have been
 
 Exigencies of Literature. 297 
 
 shocking in salad days if it had been con- 
 ceivable then." 
 
 "I'm sure, papa," the girl again put in, "you 
 never did anything that wasn't honorable and 
 highminded." 
 
 " Highmindedness, my dear, is a quality not 
 commended in Scripture, which speaks reprovingly 
 of 'traitors, heady, highminded, lovers of pleasures,' 
 and so on. Perhaps that's what I was before you 
 came, omitting the element of treason. We're apt 
 to glorify our condition, and erect our pride into 
 a virtue. But I got bravely over that. One year 
 I reported the meetings of Council, and the next 
 wrote free trade arguments for one paper, and 
 protectionist for another." 
 
 " You did ? " Grafton exclaimed ; " and at the 
 same time ? Wasn't that a pill to take ? " 
 
 " If so, it was gilded, and the coating made 
 it palatable. At your age, I felt as you do ; now, 
 I justify the course, and would pursue it again 
 on occasion. It all depends on the point of view, 
 and those of abstract and practical morality are 
 quite different. Why should not a journalist take 
 either side at will, as they do in debating societies 
 and at the bar ? You ought to be familiar with 
 that, Grafton." 
 
 " Yes, but I never liked it ; it didn't seem 
 right." 
 
 " He never would take a retainer," I thought 
 fit to testify, " except from the angel Gabriel, or
 
 298 Exigencies of Literature. 
 
 unless he had chapter and verse for it. As a 
 colleague told him in my presence, he was too 
 blamed particular. Excuse me, Miss Prance." 
 
 "I think he was just right," she remarked 
 beamingly. 
 
 "Too right for this world, which is the same 
 as being wrong," the father corrected. "Except 
 by you two babes, it is universally agreed that in 
 law all sides and all cases should have a hearing ; 
 why not elsewhere, especially in newspapers ? " 
 
 " O, well," said Dick, " the lawyer is hired." 
 
 "So are we. Any other arguments for the 
 negative ? " 
 
 "Yes," his junior persisted. "The advocate 
 is not required to speak from his own private 
 opinion, but according to the exigencies of his 
 client ; whereas journalism is supposed to be 
 serious." 
 
 "The devil it is!" the old man broke forth. 
 " I beg your pardon, Louie. You ought to close 
 your ears when we talk this way : I shall have 
 to send you off if this youngster keeps on contra- 
 dicting me. I thought I had cured you of that 
 delusion, Grafton. Serious ! So you thought it 
 was serious, did you ? " He shook with laughter. 
 
 Miss Louise, who had been looking anxious, 
 emitted a softer peal. "There, you see he was 
 only joking." She looked confidently at Dick, 
 and appealingly at me. 
 
 "Not exactly," said her father, with a somewhat
 
 Exigencies of Literature. 299 
 
 awkward air, and his tone was almost apologetic : 
 " if there's any joke here, you must lay it at 
 the door of the great god Pan. He's a terrible 
 joker, and his jests, like those of full-private 
 James, are sometimes in doubtful taste. What 
 can we do, except conform to the laws of the 
 universe or of this planet, which is all we know 
 of the cosmos? If our conforming is not agree- 
 able to the higher law, the fault lies with 'the 
 guilty goddess of our harmful deeds, who did not 
 better for our life provide than public means, 
 which public manners breeds.' That's often so, 
 but this is hardly a case in point, as I will show 
 you. It seems a little outre" to you, that I should 
 take both sides at the same time, does it ? On 
 the contrary, it's an excellent way to get at the 
 whole truth, and avoid narrowness. The tariff 
 question, like most others, does not lie in a nut- 
 shell, and is not as plain as that two and two 
 make four. There is much to be said for and 
 against, which can best be put in the way of 
 special pleading at least that's the way it's 
 wanted ; so I, having gone over the whole ground 
 and cherishing no petty prejudices, argue for 
 protection in the Forum, and for free trade in the 
 Battle-Axe. I'm not riding a personal hobby, you 
 see ; I'm enlightening the community. Read 
 both papers, and you'd get about the entire truth 
 of the matter so far as truth on this or any 
 subject is attainable by human faculties, with such
 
 300 Exigencies of Literature, 
 
 lights as have been afforded up to date. If people 
 will be partisan, and hear only one side, that's 
 not my fault. You might blame me if I had 
 given only one, being able to see both. This 
 was an act of exceptional conscientiousness, such 
 as few could appreciate : in fact, when the Forum 
 people found that I was answering myself in the 
 Battle-Axe, they were absurdly angry, and dis- 
 pensed with my further services." 
 
 We all sat silent for a minute or so, and I at 
 least was pretty well convinced ; but Dick said, 
 " Let me ask one question, Mr. Prance, and for- 
 give me if it sounds impertinent : you know it's 
 not meant to be so. Would you have done that 
 merely for your own pleasure as an intellectual 
 exercise, say if there had been no question of 
 pay?" 
 
 " I might : I really don't know. You draw too 
 heavily on my imagination, Grafton. Perhaps you 
 can remember when you wrote for the fun of it, 
 and what your manners and motives were then ; 
 but I'm hanged if I can, it's so long ago. I've 
 been writing for beef and potatoes and pudding 
 these twenty years now ; since before you were 
 born, missie" he put his arm around his 
 daughter's chair "and before this curious young 
 man was interested in such recondite enquiries. 
 The trade has its own laws, which are not imposed 
 on amateurs. Humiliating, isn't it ? " He turned 
 on me almost fiercely, as if I were an enemy
 
 Exigencies of Literature. 301 
 
 come there to spy out the nakedness of the 
 land. 
 
 I made haste to mollify his wrath. "Well," I 
 said, "it's considered a mighty good thing for a 
 fellow to be thrown on his own resources. My 
 poor father used to say I needed just that disci- 
 pline to make a man of me. He threatened more 
 than once to cut me off with a shilling: you must 
 remember, Dick, how scared I was that time at 
 college, after I nearly flunked out. Once he even 
 talked of failing a real failure, you know, honest 
 Injun so as to bring me to hard pan and put me 
 on my mettle. I half believed he would have done 
 it but for Harry and Jane and my mother ; but he 
 couldn't thrash them for my sins, because that 
 wasn't biblical. With Grafton, somehow, the 
 prescription didn't seem to work not till you 
 took him in hand ; as I said, you've licked him 
 into tolerably decent shape." 
 
 It was my cue to be a listener when at Mr. 
 Prance's, and not talk much ; but I said all this 
 to show that there was no purse-pride about me, 
 that I respected intellect and Roman virtue though 
 in rags, and in their presence was properly meek 
 and humbleminded. My remarks, however, had 
 not a very good effect : Miss Louise looked at me 
 indignantly, and her parent somewhat contemptu- 
 ously, I thought. "You must have been a fine 
 boy," he observed. "Grafton is getting along, 
 as you say; within a year or two he'll probably
 
 302 Exigencies of Literature. 
 
 learn to come indoors when it rains. Before he's 
 my age you may see him not only upholding and 
 denouncing revenue reform, but supporting all 
 the various presidential candidates they'll have 
 at least six then and earning big wages. That 
 sort of talent is coming more and .more into de- 
 mand." 
 
 Louise looked pained. " O no, papa. What 
 you did was all right, of course right for you, 
 I mean, since you thought so. You're a what 
 was it Mr. Leaf called you ? O yes, a casuist. 
 But Mr. Grafton might not be able to take that 
 view ; he's young yet, you see, and not not so " 
 
 " Not so depraved ? My dear, you have no idea 
 of the depth of his depravity. He does things 
 every clay that you wouldn't suspect ; much worse 
 than I did at his time of life. Grafton, have you 
 forgotten what a horrible hole you got into when 
 you undertook to review Weesbax' book with a 
 view to the whole truth and nothing but the 
 truth ? You put the notice in without consulting 
 me, but Perkins chanced to look at it, and came 
 to me luckily you were out at lunch as black 
 as thunder. ' Leave it to me,' I said, ' and this 
 will not occur again.' I had to tell him you were 
 sensitive, and take the whole responsibility myself, 
 and keep you away from the office all that after- 
 noon. And then at night I talked to you like a 
 father, and laid bare the enormity of your of- 
 fence."
 
 Exigencies of Literature. 303 
 
 " Well," said Dick, rather sheepishly, " I was 
 very sorry to give you so much trouble, of course ; 
 but you know what the book was, and that it 
 deserved all I said." 
 
 " As a private individual, certainly I do ; but, 
 shade of Giordano Bruno ! the naked truth mustn't 
 be always on exhibition. Have you no sense of 
 decency ? Have you forgotten the illustrious Pom- 
 ponatius ? I made you see, officially, that the firm 
 brings out none but good and admirable works, 
 and that we are on hand to testify accordingly. 
 Daughter, he heeded the words of wisdom, and 
 ever since he practises his Socratic principle 
 only on books that come in from outside. Of 
 our own publications he displays merely the 
 shining merits : when he has anything bad to say 
 of them he disguises it in French or Sanskrit, or 
 in that fine vein of irony of his which nobody can 
 detect. That's the way he salves his conscience 
 with a double meaning and a hidden esoteric sense, 
 this dissembling Gnostic whom you think so 
 guileless." 
 
 "Well, Mr. Prance," said Dick, resignedly, "I'm 
 a tree of your grafting ; and according to you, my 
 backsliding is growth in grace." 
 
 "Now, papa," the maiden cried, reproachfully, 
 "you're joking again. I don't mind it" (though 
 she looked much hurt), "and Mr. Grafton is 
 getting used to it, but strangers might not under- 
 stand."
 
 304 Exigencies of Literature. 
 
 "You needn't mind Bob," my friend soothingly 
 remarked ; " he's said worse things to me than 
 your father does often and often." 
 
 " Then I don't see what people want to say such 
 hateful things for," she almost snapped. The 
 gentle creature's motherly instincts seemed to be 
 aroused, as if she were charged with the defence 
 of helpless innocence. Her father and his prote'ge' 
 were the only persons in her little world just then : 
 they were right in all things, were to be defended 
 even against their oldest friends : whoever opposed 
 them was a heathen man and publican, whoever 
 criticised them a heretic and blasphemer.
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIII. 
 
 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. 
 
 " Miss PRANCE," said I, rising to relight my 
 pipe. "Are you quite sure you don't mind 
 smoke ? " Of course I had said this before, when 
 we began. 
 
 " No," she answered, shortly, " but I can go 
 into the next room if you want to talk secrets. 
 Only it's so lonesome, and my father and Mr. 
 Graf ton never mind my being here." Her tone 
 added, plainly enough, "And I don't see what 
 right J0 have to send me out." 
 
 " O, not at all," I had to say. The truth was, 
 I felt the time had come for asserting my claim 
 to a place in this symposium, and making a con- 
 tribution of some value to the fund of ideas ; and 
 I was not quite sure whether she ought to hear it. 
 " Far from it, on the contrary. But we're getting 
 rather blue in here I refer to the physical at- 
 mosphere ; and some of the thoughts expressed, 
 Grafton's more especially, are rather free. I only
 
 306 Cosmic Philosophy. 
 
 feared you might find it tiresome, not to say 
 oppressive " 
 
 " She's used to it," said her father, with his 
 hand on hers : " she has to take us as we are, for 
 want of better. The air here is nightly polluted 
 with vile fumes and conversation unfit for unac- 
 customed ears when Grafton is present, as you 
 remark. So out with your oracle." 
 
 Thus urged, though with some reluctance, I 
 eased my bosom of its perilous stuff. A man of 
 tact adapts his conversation to the company, and 
 I had worked this selection up at leisure, with 
 reference to Mr. Prance, whose measure I had 
 taken previously. 
 
 " I speak under correction," I began, " and you 
 will know how much importance to attach to the 
 observation ; but it seems to me difficult to recon- 
 cile some of those old texts with modern facts. 
 'Cast your bread on the waters.' Now that's not 
 a safe operation ; the chances are you'd never see 
 it again. ' Consider the lilies.' If you do, how 
 are you going to get in your crops ? ' I have not 
 seen the righteous forsaken, nor his seed begging 
 bread.' Why, you may see it on any street corner, 
 if you look up their genealogy." 
 
 I paused, for a smile not wholly pensive was 
 spreading over Grafton's countenance, while that 
 of Mr. Prance was disfigured by a positive grin. 
 The former inquired, " What does your wife say to 
 this, Bob ? " and the latter, composing his facial
 
 Cosmic Philosophy. 307 
 
 muscles to that air of gravity which best becomes 
 gray hairs, replied in an unnecessarily oratorical 
 tone. 
 
 " You put it bluntly, and I fear they would 
 scarcely let you take a class in Sunday School. 
 But you need not look so shocked, Louise. Our 
 friend is a strict constructionist, but I think I can 
 in part explain his difficulty. He quotes from a 
 book at once oriental, therefore highly figurative, 
 and ancient, therefore not immediately aimed at 
 our present manners. In fact, geographically, 
 politically, and generally, the distance between 
 former times and our own is vast ; witness their 
 sad lack of newspapers, and of great publishing 
 houses. Of old, wars, pestilences, and tyranny 
 kept down the surplus population : civilization has 
 stopped most of these amenities, and substituted 
 an improved and decorous form of the Struggle for 
 Existence, developed to proportions the old world 
 never imagined. In those warm climates neces- 
 sary expenses were light and wants easily supplied, 
 for people lived out of doors and required hardly 
 any clothing and but little food. Only epicures 
 and men in politics needed much money ; common 
 folks, so long as they could keep their heads on 
 their shoulders, had no appearances to preserve 
 and small fear for their suppers. Their drawbacks 
 were wholly different from ours, for they had no 
 personal rights, no security against raids, and but 
 the roughest and vaguest conception of liberty.
 
 308 Cosmic PJiilosophy. 
 
 They were far more picturesque than we, and far 
 less practical. Their notion of life was war ; ours 
 is peace. They cared for glory ; we care for cash, 
 and comforts to be procured therewith. They 
 crawled at the heels of a patron ; we stand on our 
 own pins or profess to and push each his own 
 fortunes. The wonder is that they have anything 
 to say to us, except through the imagination. 
 Homer is but a more venerable and less edifying 
 Hans Andersen, and Thucydides the recorder of 
 conditions that seem to us ludicrously impossible. 
 Why should the gods intervene to punish Ajax 
 and protect Ulysses, or lengthen the day to enable 
 one barbarous tribe to complete the scalping of 
 another? Such favoritism, such glorification of 
 mere force, seems to us neither just nor wise. 
 The personal element, with all its faults, is apo- 
 theosized, alike in heaven and among a few aris- 
 tocrats on earth ; the mass is but a herd to be 
 driven, slaves to obey the law or feel the lash. Of 
 course their legislation, civil and religious, pro- 
 ceeds on a basis of ideas widely variant from ours. 
 And yet, that wonderful, deathless, unaccountable 
 Syrian stock, that has given us poets greater than 
 Shakspeare, and ethical principles far beyond 
 Plato we must make a reservation in their fa- 
 vor. This at least they have done: they have 
 dreamed for all time, and it may be for eternity. 
 Be it but a dream, it is so large, so beautiful 
 the most beautiful thing in life." The old man's
 
 Cosmic Philosophy. 309 
 
 tone was solemn ; he seemed to have forgotten 
 our presence, to be talking to himself. 
 
 "Father," said Louise very earnestly, "you 
 believe more than that ; I know you do." 
 
 He shook off his abstraction. " My dear, 
 hadn't we better save up our beliefs for Sunday ? 
 Few people have enough to go round the week." 
 
 "For all that," said Dick, "I should like to 
 have lived in the Bible lands and times the 
 further back the better, before the crowd came." 
 
 " That's merely because you're of a patriarchal 
 turn," said I; "and I doubt if it was any better 
 than the Eastern Shore. You must remember 
 that ' they didn't know everything down in 
 Judee.' ' 
 
 " He is right," said Mr. Prance ; " they knew 
 little of the laws of competition, and the strin- 
 gency of the literary market, and the rules of 
 Lybert & Co. You see one can't have every- 
 thing. So inquisitive a mind as yours, Grafton, 
 could hardly have been satisfied with the company 
 of Samson and Elijah, or even of Ezra and Joel. 
 Their horizon was very narrow, and narrower 
 the further back you go." 
 
 " One could dispense with some kinds of know- 
 ledge," Dick replied, "to be allowed to walk on 
 one straight simple line, with no doubtings or 
 windings ; to deal with a few great primary truths, 
 and stand erect in their light." 
 
 "Why, so you do," cried our female chorus.
 
 310 Cosmic PJdlosophy. 
 
 "Father says you wouldn't do a dishonest thing 
 to save your life ; that's why he liked you so much 
 from the start. I know you wouldn't tell a fib, 
 not to him or me at least no, not for a thousand 
 dollars. And I don't believe you would to any- 
 body, if you could help it." 
 
 " Not unless in the way of business, I hope," 
 he answered. " That's the attraction of those 
 old days to me ; they hadn't any business to speak 
 of." 
 
 " And they won't have any in heaven," said 
 she, consolingly. " Poor papa, you wont have to 
 be away from me all day, and to write so hard 
 at night. Maybe they have books there, but not 
 any newspapers, I'm sure." 
 
 " Just so, my dear. We'll have nothing to do 
 but twang on gold harps, and listen to the sweet 
 little cherubim singing, and put on clean collars 
 every morning and fine white clothes, and sit by 
 a beautiful purling stream." 
 
 "But that wont suit Dick," I remarked. "He'll 
 want to go fishing in it, and to hunt up Socrates 
 and Epictetus, and bore them to death till he 
 hears all the nonsense they can think of." 
 
 " Mr. Prance," said Dick, " I didn't bring up 
 these abstruse and elevated topics; but since 
 we're on them, if you don't mind, I'd like to hear 
 your scheme of being. It might do Bob here a 
 great deal of good, and he needs it." He meant 
 nothing by this hit at me ; it was merely one of
 
 Cosmic Philosophy. 311 
 
 his efforts to be facetious, and he never had any 
 talent as a humorist. 
 
 " His what ? " Louise enquired. " What on 
 earth do you mean ?" 
 
 "His scheme, his theory. Of course he's got 
 one men of marked ability always have. His 
 way of solving the infinite, and making darkness 
 light and crookedness straight, and justifying the 
 ways of Providence, Miss Louise ; or, if you pre- 
 fer, his plan for the conduct of life." 
 
 "Why, that's perfectly plain," the girl cried 
 with full assurance, "and I don't see how you 
 could ask such a question. His plan of life is 
 simply to discharge all his duties faultlessly, and 
 do a great many kind and generous things besides, 
 and set a noble example to you and all other 
 young men." 
 
 " That's right, Louie," the parent commented ; 
 " mix in all the colors of the rainbow. But I fear 
 your Portrait of a Gentleman as drawn by his 
 Daughter will not be recognized outside the fam- 
 ily. Nor do I propose to unwind the labyrinth 
 of fate for you, Grafton, as you modestly request ; 
 you'd better go to a fortune-teller. You're not 
 as lucid as usual either. What he wants, little 
 girl, is that I should try to reconcile the dual 
 elements of Character, or what some now call 
 the two lobes of the brain, and explain how 
 honest men can descend to the tricks we perform 
 every day."
 
 312 Cosmic Philosophy. 
 
 " There are no tricks, papa, as you're perfectly 
 well aware ; that is only your funny way of talk- 
 ing. I know all about lobes, and I've heard of 
 duality ; if Mr. Grafton meant them, why couldn't 
 he say so ? But you'll have to explain now, or 
 some of us wont understand." 
 
 She glanced at me, so I said, "That's true, Mr. 
 Prance. I should like it of all things." If none 
 of them cared to hear what more I had to say, 
 that was their loss, not mine. Thus adjured by 
 all present, he yielded. 
 
 " My scheme of life, as Grafton calls it, is as 
 simple as the complexity of things will allow. 
 We can't be just our own men, and go our own 
 way. I doubt if anybody can ; certainly not 
 those who are situated as we are. Necessity is 
 laid on one man to preach the gospel, and on 
 another to hunt for the North Pole, and on us 
 to get our living between Lore Street and the 
 Battle-Ax? office. Yet we don't wish to become 
 wholly the slaves of circumstance, nor to starve 
 the soul any more than the body. The only way 
 out of this dilemma is to compromise, to keep two 
 sets of accounts, one with God and the other with 
 Mrs. Grundy. One life we live invisibly because 
 we ought ; the visible one because we must, and 
 that brings its duties too. If they clash, we can't 
 help that ; our business is to keep each account 
 balanced by itself, and in as little conflict with 
 the other as may be. Not only every politician
 
 Cosmic Philosophy. 313 
 
 and retail tradesman, but every man who has any 
 work to do in the world, I suppose, has to connive 
 at humbugs, and crook the supple hinges of the 
 knee more or less, and do and bear things that 
 run counter to his ideal, if he has one ; it's either 
 that, or step down and out. Where the venial 
 ends and the inadmissible begins, each must judge 
 for himself. The extremes are plain enough: fail 
 on one side, and you're a cad, a worldling, a tool 
 and prey of the adversary ; fail on the other, 
 you're an imbecile. Even Scripture says he that 
 doesn't provide for his own house is worse than 
 an infidel. Curious, by the way, the number of 
 scoundrels who have all the domestic virtues : 
 they think kindness to wives and children gives 
 them license to be foxes and wolves outside, and 
 I presume they're not wholly wrong better that 
 way than the other. It's not an angelic situation, 
 and I would no more have chosen it than you 
 would, Grafton. You can't do as you would, and 
 you're forced to do as you wouldn't if you were a 
 free agent, or to go further and fare worse. We're 
 let in to it, as the boys say ; by whom, or why, or 
 how, is useless to inquire. Most men either ac- 
 cept it without question and go on like machines, 
 or else try to persuade themselves that what they 
 do is sufficiently fine to justify the lapses they 
 commit in doing it, and to bring out their account 
 on the credit side ; but that's a delusive consola- 
 tion mostly. Why should we pretend that our
 
 3 14 Cosmic Philosophy. 
 
 work is especially congenial, or inspiring, or grand 
 in its results ? Making books and magazines and 
 newspapers ranks a little higher than raising cab- 
 bages, and much lower than speculating in real 
 estate or watering stocks. We haven't the ability 
 for these more useful avocations, you see, and we 
 must expect to be looked down upon accordingly. 
 It's a grind, and humble at that ; but it keeps our 
 heads above water, and allows us to feel that we're 
 not absolutely cumberers of the ground. Ask any 
 salaried man what is the most satisfactory element 
 of his position, and if he's honest he'll say the 
 monthly checks. Not that the noble mind can 
 respect base lucre ; but so quaintly obnoxious are 
 the arrangements of this planet, the noble mind 
 can't continue to occupy its present tenement 
 without the assistance of cash." 
 
 "That's what I've been telling Grafton these 
 ten years," said I, seeing that our entertainer 
 paused ; "but he wouldn't believe it." 
 
 " And that's why I prefer the Old Testament 
 times," he asserted ; " the earlier ones, I mean, 
 before mints were invented." 
 
 "Grafton's doing fairly now," said Mr. Prance, 
 " though with one or two wrong turnings he might 
 easily have joined the ignoble army of martyrs 
 who are never canonized, because they suffer in 
 nobody's cause. As it is, I suppose he and I 
 ought to be thankful that we are privileged to 
 show some small fruits of our education, and in a
 
 Cosmic Philosophy. 315 
 
 not flagrantly dishonest way to earn our mutton 
 and occasional beer. Yes, Louie " the girl had 
 left the room, and now returned with several 
 pint bottles, flanked by crackers and cheese 
 "it was time for that. And when we think that 
 there are fellows just as good as we who can't 
 afford these unassuming delicacies, who go to 
 bed hungry and get up tired with seeking places 
 they can't find " 
 
 The old man came to a stop in the middle of 
 his sentence, and Dick exclaimed, " You can't get 
 a devotional exercise out of that, can you? It 
 doesn't make me feel any better to think that 
 others are worse off than I." 
 
 Louise answered him reproachfully. " Don't 
 you see that he's worrying because he can't 
 invite them all to supper, and find good places 
 for them to-morrow ? He would if he could. 
 You ought to have known that." 
 
 " So I ought," said Dick, penitently. " Thank 
 you, Miss Louise." 
 
 " I don't keep an intelligence office," her father 
 retorted. "You thought I was hard on the 
 would-be authors, Grafton ; but my hands were 
 full just then with your case, which seemed to 
 be the duty that lay nearest ; and I've cudgelled 
 my brains over them longer than you have. I 
 don't like the system ; it's not merely that of 
 our shop, but of the universe. But what the 
 devil can I do ? There's a nickel to put in the
 
 316 Cosmic Philosophy. 
 
 church plate, Louie. It's my fine for using cuss- 
 words," he explained to us. 
 
 "But you owe me another, papa," the girl 
 urged ; "you're very bad to-night." 
 
 " So I do ; it's the demoralizing atmosphere 
 of these young men. Here's a dime then; take 
 it and be quiet. Grafton, you may possibly have 
 heard, or suspected from your own observation, 
 that the world as a corporation is soulless. It 
 has a hardening influence on us who live in it, 
 and bears heavily on those who don't get on in 
 it the lower stratum, a few feet beneath us. 
 Ah, bah, we say ; he's out, let him stay out : 
 he has nothing, therefore he deserves nothing, 
 can do nothing, and is good for nothing. That 
 is liable to be like most snap-judgments. He 
 may be a good workman but a poor salesman ; 
 he may have skill to raise fine pigs, but none 
 to get them to market. People are starving or 
 cutting their throats every other week who can 
 converse in six languages, calculate an eclipse, 
 and explain exhaustively the true inwardness of 
 the Thusandso. They go out of life because 
 they can't find any room in it ; they take their 
 learning along because it seems to be of no use 
 here, and possibly it may be in some other planet. 
 Once they had a place, very likely, which gave 
 them bread and cheese, and perhaps a little vin 
 ordinaire and the plaudits of a limited community ; 
 but they slipped out of it, and never slipped into
 
 Cosmic Philosophy. 317 
 
 anything else. They had plenty of knowledge, 
 but they couldn't apply it so as to turn it into 
 power ; they couldn't bring themselves to bear, 
 because that branch was not attended to when 
 they were laying in supplies. What should be 
 done with these folks ? Obviously one of two 
 things : either get up wars and plagues as of old, 
 and decently kill off enough to make room for 
 them and thus avoid scandal, or set up bureaus 
 for the Training and Utilizing of Intelligence, 
 and so put them at their proper work. You 
 might write a prize essay on that topic some time, 
 Graf ton. When philanthropy grows tired of its 
 murderers and burglars, perhaps it will think of 
 these people." 
 
 " But," said I, " don't you believe most of 'em 
 are no account ? " 
 
 "Just so," Dick added; " naturally, being ' the 
 world's poor rduted leavings.' " 
 
 " Not necessarily," Mr. Prance replied ; " not 
 all. Some of them could pick oakum neatly after 
 a little practice ; others would make very fair bar- 
 tenders or district school teachers ; and some, no 
 doubt, could govern an empire almost as well as 
 the Czar or Queen Victoria. But they have no 
 luck, that is, they don't understand the arts of 
 trade and advertising ; they never attended Shys- 
 ter and Grab's Commercial Academy that is 
 their difficulty. It was awfully stupid of them, 
 or of their parents, who should have known that
 
 318 Cosmic PJiilosophy. 
 
 pipelaying, and wirepulling, and trumpetblowing, 
 and making yourself solid in several quarters, 
 and commanding various channels of usefulness, 
 are tfee most important accomplishments man can 
 possess, more so even than the rule of three and 
 signing your name. O, confound it all ! Louie, 
 you'll break me at this rate : you ought to go to 
 bed." 
 
 "I'll let you off this time, papa dear," said 
 the girl, who was listening with shining eyes. 
 "You've told us all about the account with 
 Mrs. Grundy, and it's very interesting. Now 
 tell us about the other, please : or was this last 
 part of it ? Didn't you get them mixed a little ? " 
 
 "Perhaps I did, my child, though it's against 
 my own rule and all rules ; to do so is highly 
 improper. Of the other account the less said 
 the better ; talking about it doesn't help to keep 
 it straight, nor pottering much over it either. 
 I've known men to have a good balance there 
 without suspecting it ; and I've known lots to 
 overdraw and go smash when they thought 
 they'd been laying up wealth though failures 
 of this kind mostly make no noise. With these 
 it was talk ; their banking was in word and name, 
 not in deed and in truth. Judging by to-night, 
 my place is among the goats, for ' gabble's the 
 short road to ruin.' " 
 
 When we were in the street, Dick asked, 
 "What do you think of him?" I said he ought
 
 Cosmic Pliilosophy. 319 
 
 to have been a preacher. "He is, but his best 
 preaching is done at home. Down town they 
 choose his texts, and limit him as to time ; up 
 here it's spontaneous." 
 
 " He's all right," I said, " and I'm content to 
 leave you in his hands ; but another question is, 
 what do you think of his daughter ?" 
 
 Dick flushed in his idiotic fashion, .and replied, 
 " We are quite brother and sister. As you can 
 see for yourself, she is a child, inexperienced, 
 ingenuous, loyal, and devoted to her father." 
 
 "And disposed to be devoted to you too, eh ? " 
 I rashly added. " If you don't look out, old man, 
 you'll" 
 
 I stopped, for he turned on me savagely. " Con- 
 demnation," he said (or something worse), and 
 his violence shocked me. " I don't want to be 
 rough on you, Bob, but you surely have sense 
 enough to know that you ought not to say such 
 things. The privileges of friendship have their 
 limits, and I want you to understand that these 
 people are my friends too. How would you like it 
 if I were to speak in that way of your sister?" 
 
 It did not strike me that I should mind it much, 
 for in those days Jane and I were not on the 
 closest terms ; besides, the cases were not paral- 
 lel. When a young fellow talks about a strange 
 girl as his sister, that means something else ; but 
 Grafton always was a cross between an early 
 Christian and a government mule, and I could
 
 32O Cosmic Philosophy. 
 
 not manage him at all. Still, I wished he would 
 go less to Prance's and much oftener to De 
 Grout's, where he was just as welcome ; but, as 
 you have already seen, that affair came to nothing, 
 through his pigheaded pride.
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 
 MISFORTUNES COME DOUBLE. 
 
 ABOUT a year after this, and during Dick's 
 second winter in the metropolis, he saw his 
 senior's desk vacant one day, and toward noon 
 was called into the inner office by Mr. Perkins. 
 " Mr. Grafton, I am pained to say that Mr. Prance 
 has had a slight paralytic stroke. There is no 
 immediate danger, as I gather from the message, 
 but he cannot be here for a week or two at least. 
 You will have to take his work, as far as possible. 
 You know him well, I think ? Then see him to- 
 day, and get his instructions." 
 
 He found the veteran tranquil and entirely 
 himself. The daughter, as women will, had risen 
 to meet sudden calamity : she hovered about the 
 bed, jealous even of this intruder, and had to be 
 ordered away. " Go and take a rest, my dear," 
 the patient said. " No, it wont hurt me to talk ; 
 the doctor said so. Well, Dick, pride must have 
 a fall ; I've not been on my back in the daytime 
 for ten years or more, and now I'm paying up for
 
 322 Misfortunes come Double. 
 
 long exemption. It's a bore, but we can't help it. 
 You're to take my work at the shop ? So I hinted 
 to Perkins : you may as well have my place if I 
 don't get back. What, the Battle-Axe too? Do 
 you think you can do both ? I fear it'll be too 
 much for you." 
 
 " My dear sir, at twenty-eight I ought to be able 
 to carry what you do at twice that. Of course I 
 haven't your skill, but you've been training me, 
 and if they will let me try " 
 
 " It's merely the facility of long practice, my 
 boy ; your brains are full as good as mine. But I 
 don't want you to overtax nature, and break down 
 before your time. Well, try if you must." 
 
 He did try, and succeeded ; though he omitted 
 to state that his temoprary arrangements with 
 the Battle-Axe had been made before seeing Mr. 
 Prance. By stinting sleep, by eating his breakfast 
 on the cars and carrying lunch in his pocket, by 
 staying down town till eight or nine P.M., he was 
 able to give daily reports and care to his friend, 
 whose habits made sleep before midnight im- 
 possible. 
 
 This went on for a week ; the invalid did not 
 mend, and the doctor spoke dubiously. " Dick," 
 said the veteran one evening, " I shall not get out 
 of this : it's borne in upon me somehow. An- 
 other stroke is coming, and that will end it ; at 
 least I hope so, for I can't afford to be an uncon- 
 scionable time dying, like Charles Second. Of
 
 Misfortunes come Double. 323 
 
 course some cases hang fire for a year or two, but 
 that would swallow up all my savings, and be an 
 indecent extravagance. I'm not used to idleness, 
 and I've no desire to become a burden and ' a 
 driveller and a show.' If I have anything to say 
 about it, I'll go as soon as it's clear to others, I 
 mean that I can't get well. There's nothing to 
 regret in going, except Louise. Poor child, it will 
 be a blow to her; she doesn't understand yet." 
 
 Whether Dick was prepared for this or not, he 
 spoke up on the instant. " I will take care of 
 her, if she will let me. O yes," for he noticed 
 a curious look on the sick man's face, " I've 
 intended for some time to speak to you about this 
 later, after I got a little further on. As things 
 are, it's best to say so now." 
 
 " Have you spoken to her about it?" the parent 
 inquired. 
 
 Dick had some very oldfashioned ideas. " Of 
 course not. I couldn't, you know, till I had told 
 you. But she's pretty well used to me, and shows 
 no strong dislike for me personally, and so " 
 
 " And so you feel bound to step into my place 
 here, as well as at the shop and the office ? " He 
 spoke irritably, a thing unusual. "That's quite 
 another matter. I wouldn't mind letting you do 
 my work for a week or two, and reaping the bene- 
 fit, if I were going to get up and take it again ; 
 but I don't propose to tie a millstone round your 
 neck for life. A girl and a boy can be on friendly
 
 324 Misfortunes come Double. 
 
 terms without his being under obligation to marry 
 her. Louie's a good child, and all that, but I 
 don't see what the deuce the fact is to you ; you're 
 not in a position to go into sentiment. If you 
 have no understanding with her, you're in no way 
 bound to sacrifice yourself, and I don't propose to 
 have it." 
 
 "Mr. Prance," said Dick coolly, "certainly I 
 haven't much to offer, but if I keep on with your 
 work I'll make what you've been earning, or near 
 it. Have you any objection to my family, or 
 habits, or character?" 
 
 "That's not the point. Not to your family any- 
 way, as it's comprised in yourself. There are no 
 relatives to object to the proposed alliance, and 
 that's about the only thing to be said in its favor. 
 Keep still now ; can't you see I'm talking in your 
 interest ? You've taken up this quixotic notion of 
 immolating yourself for your friends, that I may 
 say, ' Bless you, my children,' and go off the stage 
 with an easy mind. It's not necessary, Dick, and 
 I can't take advantage of your unprotected youth. 
 The Prances were somebody once as well as the 
 Graf tons, and they still cling to the rags of self- 
 respect. My girl is not an object of charity yet ; 
 she'll have a thousand or two provided I retire 
 without any foolish delays and six thousand of 
 life insurance ; and she can have a home at the 
 farm in New Hampshire. They are good people 
 and fond of her, and she likes it well enough 
 there."
 
 Misfortunes come Double. 325 
 
 " Still, if she prefers to stay here with me, you 
 ought to let her. She's nearly of age now, and I 
 mean to give her the choice." 
 
 " It's a poor idea, Grafton ; it will be a bad 
 thing for both of you. If you could live in the 
 country I might not object so much, but you 
 know you can't, any more than I could, with this 
 night work. It's an incessant, everlasting grind ; 
 a demnition grind; as the prophet Mantalini ex- 
 pressed it or if it wasn't he I don't know who 
 it was : my memory is going, I believe. It's folly, 
 at your age and in your situation, to think of 
 marrying. Your wife will be no better off than 
 you, remember ; and \yhen children come, it will 
 be worse for both of you. You read Malthus 
 before you move in this. Haven't I been through 
 it all ? It has broken me down at fifty-six, and 
 you'll repeat the tale, and not last so long. Being 
 what you are, you'll have bound yourself to do 
 what you can't ; every day you will feel that those 
 nearest you have rights which you can't supply. 
 You'll be down with them in a bearpit, with just 
 a glimpse of sun and sky, climbing your pole for 
 no more return than daily food. You know only 
 what this treadmill is for one : what right have 
 you to condemn another to it ? Tell me that." 
 
 " I simply keep her where I found her, Mr. 
 Prance. I wish I had five thousand a year and 
 the old place to give her ; as I haven't, would I 
 stand in the way if better things were in her
 
 326 Misfortunes come Double. 
 
 reach ? I come between her and desolation : if 
 she has other resources, if she thinks differently, 
 well and good. As you say, it's not for me to 
 put this thing on grounds of sentiment not just 
 here and now ; nor is it for you and me to settle 
 the matter. We'll leave that to her." 
 
 " You'll have your way of course, and I suppose 
 I know how it will end, for she likes you, and she's 
 seen nobody else. If I saw any way out of this 
 infernal round for you, it would be right enough. 
 I only hope you'll not have to curse the fate you 
 entail on others, as I've done not out loud, to 
 be sure. You're a fine lad, Dick, and I hate to 
 think that I and mine are taking a mean advan- 
 tage of you. Poor girl, she's as innocent as a 
 babe about these things, and as for me, my help- 
 lessness and not my will consents. If I were on 
 my feet and doing my stint, you'd put this off 
 awhile at least. I can't wish you luck, my boy, 
 for I see no luck in it : you and I are not the 
 lucky kind." 
 
 Grafton cared little for opposition, once the way 
 was clear to his unworldly mind ; like Jim Bludso, 
 when he saw his duty, a dead-sure thing, he went 
 for it there and then. He had less difficulty with 
 the daughter; her only idea of finance was to 
 make the few dollars that came into her hands go 
 as far as might be, and the thought of being a 
 burden to any one never entered her head. She 
 had been indispensable to her father, or so she
 
 Misfortunes come Double. 327 
 
 imagined, and Dick was the next man in the world 
 to her. father in fact, there were no others 
 deserving mention. If she had been offered a 
 queen's position and income to leave these two, 
 she would have rejected it with disdain ; but no 
 such temptation had come her way, or was likely 
 to. Her mind was simple and direct, and she had 
 been very imperfectly taught, having no mother to 
 tell her how things are done in society. She had 
 read that young men were in the habit of marry- 
 ing young women, and saw no impropriety in 
 Grafton's entertaining views of this nature con- 
 cerning herself ; but before she could understand 
 the need for speedy action in the premises, her 
 father's condition had to be explained to her. 
 Then she gave way for a moment, but presently 
 remembered that filial love must find its expression 
 now in fortitude. For the rest, it is the nature of 
 the vine to cling, and when the parent oak is 
 shattered by the tempest, it is well if there be a 
 vigorous young tree at hand to take its place. 
 Not that she thought of this questions of self- 
 interest were not in. her way ; but Dick knew it, 
 and assumed his new part with courage. 
 
 He had the manliness to come to me, few as 
 were his hours of leisure then, and tell me what 
 had occurred. "I don't expect your approval, 
 Bob," he said, frankly, "but it's only fair that 
 you should know what I mean to do." 
 
 I knew that he could not be shaken, but the
 
 328 Misfortunes come Double. 
 
 bride-elect was not fond of me, and self-respect 
 required that I should put myself on record ; 
 politely of course, and with due consideration 
 for his feelings, but still unmistakably. "Well, 
 Grafton," I said, " I've got nothing to say against 
 the girl, but' " 
 
 "No," he interrupted; "not at this time of 
 day, I should judge." There was a warning 
 gleam in his eye which was wholly uncalled for. 
 
 " Still, I had other views for you, and I quite 
 agree with Mr. Prance." I had made him tell 
 me the whole story, and he had not the skill 
 or prudence to conceal that wise man's objec- 
 tions. " You are going into this thing simply 
 from a quixotic sense of honor and generosity, 
 and, so far as I see, the sacrifice on your part 
 is entirely unnecessary. It's not your funeral " 
 
 He again broke in upon my discourse, and in 
 an unpleasantly sarcastic tone. " It will soon be 
 the funeral of my best friend : would you advise 
 me to drop the acquaintance of the family just at 
 this time ? " 
 
 "Not that," I replied with dignity, "but there 
 are intermediate stages between dropping and 
 marrying them. The latter, I repeat, is a need- 
 less sacrifice." 
 
 " Sacrifice ! " he cried. " Why will you make 
 me out a martyr ? I told you long ago that I 
 was as selfish as other men. To say the truth, 
 Bob, it's a damnably lonesome and aimless life;
 
 Misfortunes come Double. 329 
 
 and I don't believe a man is good for much so 
 long as he has only himself to care for. Friends 
 are all very well in their way, but it's not good 
 for man to be alone, as you used to remind me. 
 I'm not as callous and independent as I once was ; 
 time seems to take the stiffening out of a man, 
 and give him a sneaking desire for sympathy and 
 ties of his own. You can't blame me, for you set 
 the example." He was plainly conscious of the 
 gross imprudence of his course. 
 
 " O, if you put it on that ground : though you 
 talked differently not many months ago." I al- 
 luded to a conversation which you will find re- 
 corded in Chapter XXIX. But I spared him 
 any further reference to that episode, and went 
 on with well-deserved irony, " Of course there 
 were no other women in New York, at least 
 within your reach ; and as it was impossible for 
 you to form a union which would promote your 
 prospects in life I paused there : such a 
 pause is sometimes more impressive than the 
 completion of your sentence. 
 
 He disregarded the innuendo, and said quietly, 
 " I understand your point of view : we've dis- 
 cussed these topics before in a general way, and 
 must agree to differ. Well, old man, you can cut 
 me if you like : it will come to much the same 
 thing, as I shall be more closely occupied than 
 ever, and have no time to leave my work." He 
 looked me in the eye, and we both felt that more
 
 33O Misfortunes come Double. 
 
 was meant than the words expressed. " I don't 
 blame you : we'll part friends at any rate." 
 
 He held out his hand : I took it, and in that 
 moment our hearts went out to each other, and 
 knew that I could forgive him even this. " Let 
 me know when it's to be, and I'll come if you 
 want me," I said in low and agitated tones. A 
 man of my temperament can be almost unpar- 
 donably foolish where the comrades of his youth 
 are concerned, and I never professed except 
 now and then for some particular purpose to 
 be a sage.
 
 CHAPTER XL. 
 
 DEATH AND MATRIMONY. 
 
 GRAFTON'S courtship, I imagine, was a prosaic 
 and melancholy one ; the circumstances afforded 
 little room or reason for any other. The wedding 
 was quiet, not to say sombre ; the unhappy pair 
 took no trip, and the groom left his duties for 
 but an hour or two that day, for he knew a longer 
 absence would be required soon. Mr. Prance was 
 failing : Dick told me of one deliverance of his 
 as the end approached. 
 
 " No, I can get through this without a min- 
 ister," the sick man said : " you'll have to call 
 one in shortly, and it's not fair to ask too much 
 of him, for I'm not a valuable parishioner. You'll 
 do for a confessor, if any last words are required. 
 I'm quite content to leave this vale of tears, dear 
 boy : as your friend Marcus says, why should 
 one desire a longer stay, things being as they 
 are ? Yes, the accommodations and arrangements 
 are far from perfect ; if asked, I really could not 
 recommend the Globe Hotel. Do you know, I
 
 332 DeatJi and Matrimony. 
 
 have an idea they do things better at the oppo- 
 sition house. It's erratic, I admit ; if it's imbecile, 
 kindly credit the weakness to my failing powers ; 
 but I believe there's something beyond I do, 
 indeed. If there isn't, this business of existence 
 is a put-up job, a most disreputable swindle ; 
 and that, you see, is what some call unthinkable 
 at least one would rather not think it. No, 
 I fancy the Demiurge's reign is limited to this 
 mundane sphere. Excellent people, those Gnos- 
 tics, though ahead of their time ; they devised 
 the only plausible explanation of this planet. Put 
 your head nearer, Dick, and let me ' whisper : 
 don't tell anybody, but I believe the Man of 
 Nazareth was not altogether mistaken. Curious 
 instinct, isn't it, to print all His titles in capitals ? 
 Curious, but sound. So far as we know, He 
 never did any editing, or even writing, except 
 with His finger in the dust, so that it couldn't 
 be preserved fine, strong idea that: but I be- 
 lieve He would understand. You think I'm 
 wandering ? Well, maybe I am. A little further, 
 and I'll wander over the edge and take the plunge, 
 and then perhaps I'll be in the way to know more 
 about it." 
 
 At the funeral I chanced to be put in a carriage 
 with Mr. Leaf. " I am not what is called a 
 religious man," said he, "nor was our friend; but 
 to me he represented the Power that made him. 
 John is my favorite author, not James ; but James
 
 Death and Matrimony. 333 
 
 has a noble word about those being happy who 
 endure. Yes, we are following to the grave an 
 athlete, crowned at last and victorious. When 
 stripped bare and smitten to earth, he never 
 whined, but rose and girded himself, and went 
 soberly about his humble duties. He disdained 
 the success that comes by puffery and lying : it 
 strengthens my soul to think how that man ab- 
 horred a lie. How brave he was, and how gentle ! 
 His fine spirit revolted against its bonds, and 
 he loved to deride himself and his work ; but 
 many have been the better for him and none 
 the worse. If his light was not set on a hill, 
 nor in any lofty candlestick, the blame was not 
 his. When the city turned its back on him, he 
 drew apart into himself, and there lived, a modern 
 hermit, in patience and purity. Had he been a 
 Voltairean, he had reason and excuse ; but amid 
 all the doubts that life forced upon him he re- 
 tained faith enough to stand erect and be a man. 
 His keen analysis went to the root of things, and 
 severed the perishable from the permanent ; so 
 much, the husk, the routine, for bread and a roof, 
 in necessary deference to the powers that rule 
 here and now ; but the inner part, the self, was 
 not for sale, but kept unmarred for better use 
 in the hereafter. Under that accursed system 
 he was held down, hidden, chained as a galley- 
 slave to his oar : now he is freed, enlarged. Few 
 knew him here ; but the Master Artist arranges
 
 334 Death and Matrimony. 
 
 His figures and spreads His colors on a plan 
 of His own, and those of whom the world was 
 not worthy shall shine as the brightness of the 
 firmament. For such as he are the palm branches, 
 the reward and the repose." The old painter 
 turned his head aside and drew out his handker- 
 chief: he was not thinking whether I listened 
 and understood or not. 
 
 I was careful not to ask the De Grouts what 
 they thought of Dick's marriage ; but as soon as it 
 was decent to do so, Edith induced her mother to 
 countenance her in a call on the mourning bride. 
 They wore their plainest clothes and left their 
 carriage around the corner ; but even so, their 
 presence must have caused some astonishment, 
 and the meeting could hardly be enjoyable on 
 either side. No doubt they were gracious, and 
 Mrs. Grafton, if otherwise placed, would have 
 borne sufficient signs of birth and breeding ; but 
 she shared her husband's views as to keeping in 
 their own sphere. Her bereavement afforded a 
 sufficient excuse for not returning the visit till it 
 and her existence might be supposed to be alike 
 forgotten. 
 
 We all thought better of the poor young couple 
 for taking this stand ; it avoided trouble. What 
 is the use of mincing matters, or pretending that 
 things are otherwise than as they are ? As Mr. 
 Prance used to say, the solid concrete, and not
 
 Death and Matrimony. 335 
 
 the airy abstract, makes the best pavement to 
 walk on. A man can go anywhere, after dark at 
 least, but ladies of established position have no 
 business in that part of East Sixteenth Street 
 it is too incongruous. I am not responsible for 
 these social arrangements, and they may be open 
 to criticism in some of their details or applica- 
 tions, but any one can see that in the main they 
 are reasonable and inevitable. No one cares 
 where a bachelor sleeps ; so long as he dresses 
 properly and behaves himself, there is nothing in 
 our usages to prevent his being welcome any- 
 where ; but in marrying a poor girl he simply ties 
 a millstone round his neck, as Grafton's father- 
 in-law had fairly warned him. His respectable 
 friends cannot recognize her without grave risk 
 of embarrassing complications ; if they push phil- 
 anthropy so far as to call, they are out of place, 
 and if she attempts to respond, she feels much 
 more so. She has no fit rooms to receive com- 
 pany ; she probably has no cards, they are not 
 needed in her way of life ; and really it is 
 needless to pursue such an unpleasant subject. 
 As I have said, the Graftons quite understood 
 all this ; but Dick's absurd mistake was in suppos- 
 ing that he was under the ban before marriage, 
 and obliged to perpetuate his impoverished con- 
 dition instead of escaping from it. I had endeav- 
 ored fifty times to expose this fallacy, but it was 
 useless.
 
 336 Death and Matrimony. 
 
 I never entirely abandoned him, I am proud to 
 say, but no great encouragement was offered on 
 his side to continued intimacy. When he had 
 been married about fifteen months, a new incum- 
 brance arrived ; they always do with such people, 
 I believe. Not long after this I met him on the 
 street ; he was looking worn and jaded. 
 
 "Old man," I said, "we never see you now." 
 
 " Too much to do," he answered, " business is 
 brisk, and I work like a drayhorse." 
 
 "Well," said I, "you'll come along now and 
 have some lunch ; " and I took him into Zwei- 
 kopf's. 
 
 " This hock is good," he admitted ; " I haven't 
 tasted any in ages." 
 
 " Dick, you're running it too hard. You should 
 take a vacation." 
 
 " How can I, when it would increase the outlay 
 and stop the supplies ? Two thousand is less for 
 me here than six hundred was in Tackville and 
 Miletus. You used to want me to be up and 
 doing, and I'm at it now ; I can't stop for a week, 
 or even a day off." 
 
 " But can't you branch out ? With your brains, 
 which ought to be growing all the time ; you might 
 do something original, and get higher pay." 
 
 " There's no time to think of anything original. 
 The regular routine sucks your brains dry, and 
 takes all ambition out of you. I suppose that's 
 what Mr. Prance meaiit by his early warnings."
 
 DeatJi and Matrimony. 337 
 
 After a pause he went on. " Bob, do you remem- 
 ber Tennyson's prince who had ' weird seizures ' 
 now and then, and ' seemed to move among a 
 world of ghosts, and feel himself the shadow of a 
 dream ' ? That has been my normal state since I 
 can remember, though not always equally. You, 
 and this table, and these oysters, and my desk in 
 Lore Street, and what I write, and all the rest of 
 it, pass before me like a poor play badly acted. I 
 am a part of it all, but I'm hardly real to myself; 
 when anything happens, good or bad, the first 
 thought that rises is, It doesn't matter ; this is but 
 a form to be gone through with, a series of images 
 passing before the eye, a waking vision, a third- 
 class puppet-show. The solidest part of it is 
 home and the ties there ; that's something to work 
 for, something to fall back on. I used to feel as 
 if I could drop out of life from sheer lack of any 
 interest in it ; I had no hold, no purchase ; but 
 wife and child give one a sort of anchorage, as I 
 once fancied the old place might have done. I 
 believe Mrs. Prance, dead twenty years, was nearer 
 and more authentic to her husband than the things 
 around him." 
 
 Some, hearing Grafton talk thus, would have 
 questioned his sanity ; but I knew it was merely 
 his old disease of impracticable idealism. He always 
 preferred trains of thought that led nowhere, or 
 straight away from utility and common sense. 
 After this, I had small hopes of him.
 
 CHAPTER XLI. 
 
 GREAT NEWS. 
 
 IT is time this tiresome tale was ended. A 
 flat, lustreless, dismal chronicle it is, and my 
 spirits sink as I try to make the best of it ; for I 
 give you my word that I have selected the least 
 undramatic episodes of Grafton's life, and such of 
 the conversational encounters he engaged in as 
 would best bear repeating. When a man has no 
 money and no faculty of making any, there cannot 
 be much that is cheerful to say about him ; but 
 his unwise architecture may serve as a useful les- 
 son to more fortunate builders, and the principal 
 end of literature, I take it, is the moral instruction 
 of youth. The ending of the narrative will sur- 
 prise you, as it did me : it is not at all in keeping 
 with what goes before there is no sort of fitness, 
 or coherence, or even poetical justice ; but I can- 
 not help that. 
 
 It was a blustrous morning in March, and the 
 subject of this history had been grappling with 
 domestic cares for full two years. I sat in my
 
 Great News. 
 
 339 
 
 place on Water street, looking over market reports, 
 when Clinton De Grout rushed in. He was grow- 
 ing portly now, and free in his language : he had 
 recently set up an establishment of his own, hav- 
 ing loved both wisely and well. " Zeuxis and 
 Apelles," he cried ; at least I substitute these 
 harmless names for the ones which he mentioned. 
 He sank into an arm-chair, and I would not be 
 willing to show myself in such a blown and breath- 
 less state. " Have you heard this about Grafton ? " 
 
 " No ; what ? " I asked, starting anxiously to my 
 feet : " is his wife dead ? " 
 
 " Get out," he replied with too little urbanity. 
 "What the demon would she want to die for? 
 Has she done anything to you ? She's all right. 
 But I only just heard " And he told me what 
 it was. 
 
 " Great Caesar," I said, for I wished to show the 
 loose youth that a gentleman can be emphatic 
 without profanity ; " is this a sure thing ? " 
 
 " I don't know ; I hope so. Let's go round and 
 see." 
 
 We went, and found our friend in his quiet 
 corner at Lybert's, seemingly employed as usual. 
 " Old horse," Clinton began, " we've come to con- 
 gratulate you." 
 
 "Yes," I added, "provided the story's true. 
 We want the particulars first." 
 
 " What story ? " he asked. " Let us have no 
 misunderstanding now : I don't wish to obtain
 
 340 Great News. 
 
 congratulations on false pretences. We'd better 
 get at the alleged facts in order. You claim " 
 
 "That's what we're after," I said. "Somebody 
 told Clint that you had come into a big fortune." 
 
 " O no," Dick corrected ; " merely a decent 
 competence." 
 
 " Thunder," Clinton observed. " Why, they 
 said it was a solid million." 
 
 " It's more, as I understand ; but you don't call 
 that a big fortune, do you ? " 
 
 We both stared at him. "You're a pretty 
 blanked cool hand, you are," said my companion. 
 
 "There's nothing to be hot about," Grafton 
 replied, " but there will be presently, if you shout 
 so. This isn't a football ground. We don't allow 
 dime novels in this establishment, nor noise, nor 
 bad language ; if you try to demoralize our young 
 clerks, Lybert & Co. will be about your ears. 
 Wait two minutes, will you?" He gave some 
 directions to a subordinate, who listened with 
 marked deference. " Now let's go out to lunch ; 
 it's early, but you can get up an appetite in honor 
 of this reunion. Bob, you choose the place, and 
 Clint, you can select the dishes you're what 
 Mrs. Gauche calls an ipecac ; but it's my spread. 
 First time I've had the honor, but I trust not the 
 last." 
 
 "I must say, Dick," I remarked as soon as I 
 could get in a word edgeways, " your ideas have
 
 Great News. 341 
 
 gone up several pegs. To talk so irreverently of 
 a million " 
 
 "My ideas are just where they always were," 
 he answered, "though my tax-rate will go up, I 
 suppose." 
 
 " Don't you see," Clinton put in, " he's posing 
 for the ancient sage, no more elated by prosperity 
 than cast down by t'other thing ? You couldn't 
 expect any less of him. Well, bully boy, you've 
 kept a stiff upper lip in the shade, and now you 
 can enjoy the shine but don't be too dashed 
 philosophic about it." 
 
 We found an upstairs room in a high-class hash- 
 ery, and secured the sole tenancy of it for an hour. 
 " Now, Dick," I said, "tell us the whole story. Is 
 it true that old uncle of yours has turned up at 
 last?" 
 
 " He's turned up defunct, and it would not be 
 the correct thing for me to say that no action of 
 his life became him like the leaving it ; but be- 
 tween us, I suspect he was a hard case. He left 
 home, you know, when I was a baby, and we 
 thought his career was soon ended ; but it seems 
 he drifted to the Pacific slope, went through vari- 
 ous queer adventures, and under a false name 
 amassed all this money. He never was much of a 
 Grafton, in that or anything else ; but being un- 
 married, and sick for some months, he disclosed 
 himself to a lawyer out there, set on foot inquiries 
 about the family, and made his will in my favor.
 
 342 Great News. 
 
 I was his only relative and natural heir, and I 
 might feel more obliged to him if he had taken 
 these steps some years ago." 
 
 " Then," said I, " you can buy baok the old 
 place, after all ? " 
 
 " I should do so in any case, but he has ex- 
 pressed a desire to that effect, which carries the 
 force of a command. Natural feeling, or I might 
 say conscience, awoke in him toward the end and 
 better late than never." 
 
 A shadow came over his face as he thought of 
 the years of needless narrowness and gloom. I 
 hastened to cheer him up. " But I say, old man, 
 with your high and mighty notions you couldn't 
 have taken help from him while he was alive, you 
 know." 
 
 " You forget my patriarchal views, and our 
 Maryland prejudice in behalf of family ties, Bob. 
 As my father's brother and head of the house, 
 he had a right to restore its fortunes and to 
 direct my life, if he had chosen to take the 
 trouble." I could see that he felt more aggrieved 
 by that silence of near thirty years than gratified 
 by his sudden inheritance. 
 
 Young De Grout, who was looking rather sour 
 and pugnacious, now asked, " When did you get 
 all this fine news, Monte Christo ? It sounds as 
 as if you'd been in correspondence with your lawyer 
 since New Year's." 
 
 " O no ; he wrote at length, and I got it only
 
 Great News. 343 
 
 yesterday, with authority to draw on him to any 
 extent through a bank here ; he'd satisfied himself 
 about me some time ago, it appears. I would 
 have sent you word, or looked you up, presently 
 both of you. Did you suppose I wanted to 
 keep it to myself ? I've had no time to turn round 
 yet, till I made this sacrifice to friendship. 
 
 " And now you'll cut Lybert & Co., of course ? " 
 
 "As soon as I can get things straight in a 
 month or so. They've done the fair thing by 
 me, and I can't leave them in the lurch. I've 
 got a young man in training for my place, and 
 another at the Battle-Axe. There's no such vio- 
 lent hurry." 
 
 " And then, what are your plans ? " 
 
 " We'll go to California and look after the 
 property ; curious, my having property to look 
 after, isn't it ? Beyond that, we'll see. Sat die 
 bonum stium." 
 
 " You'll want to stop at Tackville on the 
 way," I suggested. " But how about securing the 
 Manor?" 
 
 " I wrote last night : I may have to go there 
 soon. And I might stop to shake hands with 
 Mrs. Claybank and Major Way and Rustler, but 
 that it would look like flaunting; the natives 
 would think I thought myself a better man than 
 I was in the old days, and had come to show off. 
 I judge my wife will be content to take Tackville 
 and Miletus at second hand."
 
 344 Great News. 
 
 Here a sudden thought struck me ; connubial 
 relations must be duly respected. " Dick, can I 
 go up and call on Mrs. Graf ton ? " 
 
 " Why not ? She'll be glad to see you, of 
 course. It's no longer necessary to keep our 
 friends at arm's length, thank Heaven." 
 
 " It never was necessary," Clinton exclaimed 
 in his uproarious way ; " that was your dashed 
 pharisaism, thinking that folks who chanced to 
 have a little more cash than you couldn't be fit 
 to associate with. By Jove, Grafton, if you're 
 going to acknowledge me as a friend simply 
 because you've come into this bonanza, you may 
 spare yourself the trouble. I can speak for sis 
 and the old people, too ; we're no more your 
 friends now than we've been all this time, only 
 you wouldn't let us show it." 
 
 " My dear boy," said Dick with a very sweet 
 smile, " I'm quite aware of it. Having made 
 allowances for my confounded position and par- 
 doned my enforced rudeness through these four 
 years, you needn't quarrel with me now. I was 
 tied hand and foot, with results that no one can 
 appreciate who hasn't been disgustingly and lu- 
 dicrously poor. I'm free now, and one of the 
 chief pleasures of emancipation is that it will 
 enable me to show my respect and regard for 
 your family." He made his grandest bow, and 
 held up a bumper of Pommery. " Permit me to 
 drink their health, and yours." We responded
 
 Great News. 345 
 
 in silence, and the past was as if it had not 
 been. 
 
 " Well, Dick," I presently remarked, " this new 
 deal suits me first rate, though it puts you well 
 above me in the social scale, so that I'll not be 
 justified in giving you any more advice. But, 
 if I may criticise, I should have expected some- 
 thing more original from you. California uncles 
 are commonplace." 
 
 He hardly listened to this observation, the play- 
 ful character of which was intended to rouse him 
 to a frame of mind befitting the festive occasion. 
 " Had it been left to me, I should have arranged 
 it differently, as I've hinted. For myself it 
 doesn't matter, but my wife has never been able 
 to get about as I should like, or to indulge her 
 taste in bonnets. She's young yet, however, and 
 this comes in time for the children." 
 
 " The children ? " Clinton exclaimed, with the 
 thoughtless roughness of a man whose domestic 
 experience is but just begun. "What the O 
 yes, I see ; I beg pardon. Of course," and he 
 laughed awkwardly. 
 
 "It doesn't matter, Dick," I said soothingly; 
 "you can afford such things now." 
 
 A virginal blush mounted to his brow. " Well, 
 you see it's best to have more than one, in case 
 of accidents when there is anything to inherit." 
 
 I understood his feelings perfectly : he could 
 not at once break from the old sense of being
 
 346 Great News. 
 
 bound to apologize for any imprudence to friends 
 who might possibly (though not by his volition) 
 in one way or another have to pay the bill ; and he 
 had got a little mixed, as the brightest intellects 
 will at times, for the excuse he offered applied 
 only to his newly arrived condition, which re- 
 moved the necessity of any. 
 
 We parted from De Grout, and walked back 
 toward Lore Street. " I didn't care to say it before 
 Clinton," Dick went on, " but this takes a dread- 
 ful load from my mind. Now I can get out of the 
 treadmill, and do as I please. If only Mr. Prance 
 had lived to see this ! You've always taken vaca- 
 tions when you liked, Bob, and been free to go 
 and come, so you can't understand what it is to 
 be my own man." He raised himself to his full 
 height, and shook off as it were a stoop which his 
 shoulders had contracted of late. 
 
 " Yes," I said, " now you can work in your own 
 way, and think about making a position and a 
 name." This I said, thinking to chime in with his 
 views in the way of literary ambition ; but it did 
 not seem to please him. 
 
 " The Grafton name is good enough for me, now 
 that it no longer covers a beggar. I don't care 
 for your positions, old man, and the work may go 
 hang. I want to get away from it all, and look at 
 life dispassionately from outside, as I've not been 
 able to do since I was a boy. And I want to see 
 something of my wife, and give her open air and
 
 Great News. 347 
 
 sunshine : she's been shut up in a vault so far, 
 poor child. Then my boy or my boys, perhaps 
 
 must grow up in a very different atmosphere 
 from what their parents have been breathing. The 
 thing for us is to wander about, and have the Ma- 
 nor to fall back on when we're tired of travelling 1 
 
 O 
 
 for one must have the home feeling, you know 
 
 and come to a hotel here in the fall. Yes, I 
 think a week or two in the year will be enough 
 for New York." 
 
 " That's a pretty good program, Dick, except 
 that we shall see too little of you. But I should 
 think you'd want to write some books and things 
 
 by and by, after you've rested a bit. You'll 
 have a vantage-ground now, and I presume Lybert 
 \\ ould be glad to publish "em." 
 
 " Not now, thank you, and probably never. 
 What have I to say to the world ? Simply that 
 I am bored and that it is a humbug. Let me get 
 off to the woods and waters and rehabilitate. I'm 
 sick of ink and paper : I can buy all the literature 
 I'll want for months to come of the trainboys and 
 at the news-stands." 
 
 I was received with unprecedented cordiality in 
 East Sixteenth Street, and spent a most agreeable 
 hour. " Do you know," Mrs. Grafton said she 
 had caught certain tricks of speech from her father 
 and her husband " that I've had a weight on my 
 conscience all this time ? When I married, I was
 
 348 Great News. 
 
 so young, and so ignorant of practical things, it 
 never occurred to me that I was coming between 
 Dick and his friends, and might be spoiling his 
 life. I suppose you thought me dreadfully selfish 
 and unprincipled and designing, now didn't you ? 
 
 though, goodness knows, he was no great catch 
 then, and I never dreamed of such luck as this. 
 I've thought a great deal since, and it seems 
 incredible I should have been so stupid ; but it 
 seemed perfectly natural and right then, and he's 
 so firm and positive that if I had resisted it would 
 have been of no use, probably. But when I real- 
 ized that I had cut him off from his friends, I 
 knew that wasn't right, and it troubled me. They 
 couldn't come here O, I know you tried, but 
 you didn't feel comfortable, and what was the 
 use ? It was my fault, and I felt very badly about 
 it ; but he wouldn't go anywhere without me, and 
 
 he's so patient, you know. It doesn't matter 
 about me, but O, I'm so glad for his sake that 
 he's come to his own ! I speak to you as his 
 oldest friend, and I want you to know that he 
 was never ungrateful or disloyal it isn't in him 
 to be that. And I want his friends to share in 
 our joy over his good fortune. You understand, 
 don't you ? " 
 
 " That's all right," I hastened to assure her, and 
 explained that De Grout and myself had been 
 with Dick but two hours before. In my secret 
 heart I was much indebted to her for thus tak-
 
 Great News. 
 
 349 
 
 ing the whole responsibility for any coolness or 
 estrangement that might have appeared to exist. 
 These terms are too strong, for I had carefully 
 avoided any breach between us ; but when a stock 
 goes up suddenly and violently like this, you feel 
 remorseful for not having invested in it more 
 heavily while it was down. " You don't mean 
 to stay here, of course," I asked somewhat 
 anxiously. 
 
 " No," she replied. " Dick wants to stay till 
 we leave the city, and it's the only home I can 
 remember, but I will not keep him any longer 
 from his true position. Of course we will keep 
 the books and pictures and furniture all that 
 was my father's ; they can be stored till we are 
 ready to send them to the Manor." The pride with 
 which she said 'the Manor,' as if she had also 
 been born and bred there, was touching ; I remem- 
 bered that the Prances too had been Somebody 
 once, and now their solitary remnant was coming 
 to her own as well as the last Grafton. " I want 
 to go there, if it is possible, before we start for 
 California. We will make our home there, you 
 know ; that is the place for his boy to grow up in. 
 But meanwhile we shall go to a hotel just as soon 
 as I can persuade Dick to it. O yes, you can 
 trust me for that," she added confidently, " and he 
 will let you know as soon as we move." 
 
 I renewed my congratulations on the windfall. 
 " Dick says he cares for it chiefly on your account.
 
 350 Great Nezvs. 
 
 He wants you to see people, and things, and 
 places." 
 
 "Yes, that is his view," she said very brightly ; 
 "he so is unselfish. It will be a great change, of 
 course, and no doubt I shall enjoy it ; but I don't 
 care very much about meeting people. I have 
 always been contented, and a wife lives for her 
 husband. I am glad because he will be free now, 
 and not have to work so hard all day and most of 
 the evening, but be able to follow his own tastes. 
 You know," she said with brave simplicity, " he is 
 a very able man. My father often said he had too 
 fine an intellect to be chained to mere drudgery at 
 the desk. I didn't understand it then, a girl takes 
 things so for granted ; but I've often thought 
 since, that poor father never escaped that drudgery 
 himself, and feared Dick never would. And now 
 I thank God that he has escaped it before his mind 
 was stunted, and his spirits broken, and his youth 
 and health entirely gone. Didn't you know I 
 would feel that way about it ? " she cried, for I was 
 looking at her in some surprise at this vehemence. 
 " Did you suppose I would think of myself in com- 
 parison with him ? Why, he is the best man in 
 the world. Of course he comes first : who else 
 should I think of?" 
 
 "Well," I said suggestively, "there's the boy." 
 She laughed. " O, that's entirely different. I 
 don't suppose you could understand, being a man : 
 one loves a child ever so much, and does every-
 
 Great News. 351 
 
 thing for him, but others might take an equal 
 place in your heart without your caring any less 
 for him, I mean." She blushed a little. "Some 
 mothers, you know, have several. But one's hus- 
 band is separate, and nobody could ever be like 
 him not possibly. O, I can't explain it; per- 
 haps your wife can. O yes, certainly, I'm glad 
 that Archie will have an easier time than his 
 father has had ; but I mean to bring him up to be 
 exactly like his father." 
 
 " There's another thing," I said, " that maybe 
 you can effect, and nobody else can. Dick has 
 very fine brains, as you say, but he lacks ambition. 
 I want him to write a book or two, or do some- 
 thing to distinguish himself, and show what's in 
 him. We've often talked it over ; and now he has 
 a fine chance, but he wont hear of it says he's 
 sick of ink and paper." 
 
 "Naturally," she answered; "but he'll get over 
 that feeling, I think, and use his pen in a higher 
 way. He's so tired now, poor boy; but I have 
 some ambition for him, if he hasn't. I knew you 
 appreciated him. Of course his mind can't be 
 idle, and the world ought to know him. I think I 
 can manage that in time."
 
 CHAPTER XLII. 
 
 A LAME CONCLUSION. 
 
 I WENT home with my mental equilibrium 
 somewhat disturbed (for I had always thought of 
 Dick's wife in the light of a mistake and an in- 
 cumbrance), and sought to regain a proper tone in 
 the bosom of my family, by a relation of the day's 
 events, omitting De Grout's improper language. 
 The ladies of my household had seen very much 
 less of Dick than I had, but I thought any news 
 would gratify them. 
 
 " Well," said Clarice, when my judicious abridg- 
 ment was finished, " Mr. Grafton has fallen in my 
 opinion. From all you have told us about him, I 
 should have expected him to do something strik- 
 ing, and this is so vulgarly flat and feeble. Rich 
 uncles are continually dying in the West ; it 
 happens to every other carpenter and laundress." 
 
 "It never happened to us yet, dear," my wife 
 urged. "Still, as you say, it was an ordinary 
 thing to do ; but I suppose they don't mind that, 
 as they couldn't afford to be particular."
 
 A Lame Conclusion. 353 
 
 " Would you have had the poor man die of 
 brain fever, and leave his widow and orphan to 
 charity ? " asked my sister Jane. " That was not 
 unlikely to occur, I understand, if this good for- 
 tune had not come to them." 
 
 " It would be more picturesque," said Clarice, 
 " more harmonious. I have never met him, but 
 Robert said he was a cultivated person, and far 
 from commonplace ; and this was such a stale and 
 greasy thing to do. Probably the money was 
 made in groceries." 
 
 "Let us trust not," I said. "I don't believe a 
 Grafton would stoop to that, and Dick shares your 
 effete antipathy to trade. More likely by gam- 
 bling and murdering about th'e mines ; that would 
 more nearly meet your views, Clarice. The old 
 man was a tough customer, it is said. I urged 
 your objection to his accepting the legacy; but it 
 really isn't Dick's fault that he had an uncle in 
 California. He said he would have fixed it differ- 
 ently if it had been left to him ; give him credit 
 for that." 
 
 " I presume," Clarice languidly went on, " you 
 think the uncle ought to have died four years ago 
 and let your friend marry Edith De Grout." 
 
 "That's just the way Robert would feel about 
 it, of course," Jane chimed in. "Did you advise 
 him to stop at Chicago on his way out and get a 
 divorce, brother ? " 
 
 " No," I replied calmly, for I was used to these
 
 354 A Lame Conclusion. 
 
 carpings. " His present wife is good enough for 
 him. In fact, my opinion of her has altered ; she's 
 improved wonderfully." 
 
 "In looks, do you mean ? " they all asked. 
 
 " Yes ; in looks, and manners, and intelligence, 
 and character. She received me most courteously, 
 and talked with charming frankness. There was a 
 delicate flush on her cheek, and a fine soft light in 
 her eye. Her hair was always good, for a blonde, 
 and she has a nice neck and shoulders, and small 
 hands. She wouldn't compare with any of you, of 
 course, but she's entirely a lady, and some might 
 call her almost beautiful." 
 
 " Then that accounts for it," Jane cried. " She 
 never was polite to Robert before, fearing, no doubt, 
 that he would lead her husband astray. Now they 
 are going off, she wants to part on friendly terms, 
 which is to her credit, I'm sure ; and any tolerable- 
 looking woman who is decently civil to him he 
 thinks an angel." 
 
 " Jane," I said mildly, " Mahomet must have 
 been acquainted with you in some pre-existent 
 state." My wife asked why, and I explained that 
 that fact would account for his excluding ladies 
 from the heaven of his persuasion. " If he had 
 met only women like you, and Clarice when she 
 behaves herself, and Mrs. Grafton, he would have 
 known better. But," I went on, " you ought to 
 call on her now." 
 
 "Why," said Mabel, "Jane and I were going 
 there long ago, and you wouldn't let us,"
 
 A Lame Conclusion. 355 
 
 " She didn't want visitors in those small rooms, 
 and you wouldn't either if you had to live in such 
 a place, which God forbid. But now they are go- 
 ing to a hotel, and she'll be ready to receive. You 
 see, the situation is totally changed. They both 
 came of very good stock, and now they'll be where 
 they would have been all along, if their parents 
 had had more sense." 
 
 " So they were a prince and princess in disguise, 
 were they ? " Clarice inquired. 
 
 " Just so ; so disguised that you never would 
 have known them through no particular fault of 
 their own. But now they've come out in their 
 proper character, and are to be respected accord- 
 ingly. I want you all to remember that." 
 
 Dick and his wife had to attend sundry domestic 
 dinings, at which she acquitted herself as credit- 
 ably as if she had been brought up in society ; 
 a certain unconventional freshness about her 
 called forth only admiration from the men, and 
 sympathetic no less than hostile comments from 
 her own sex. It was interesting to see how many 
 people now recalled Grafton's existence ; Van 
 Snoozer and a hundred others, some of whom 
 neither he nor I could remember. But he was 
 cool to all except the De Grouts and my family. 
 
 " I've known you through fair weather and 
 foul," he said, "principally the latter, and we're 
 not going to part now. But I don't care for new 
 acquaintances, and as for those who value a man
 
 A Lame Conclusion. 
 
 by his bank account, let them go to the bank and 
 nose it over ; they and I haven't two ideas in 
 common." But I made him see that such rational- 
 ism was vulgar and levelling, and that he now had 
 a stake in the community, involving certain duties. 
 
 " Remember, you've got the Grafton name to 
 keep up," I said : " that implies an exchange of 
 courtesies with your peers. The money is merely 
 the outward and visible sign of gentility : without 
 the sign, you couldn't expect to be recognized ; 
 with it, you take and keep your proper place." 
 He growled and grumbled, and I think hastened 
 his departure ; but that touch-me-not air, which 
 Mrs. Claybank had noticed at Tackville and Jan- 
 dyke at Miletus, sat well upon him now, and a 
 certain hauteur, which he put on to guard against 
 intruders, added to his importance. 
 
 His wife came to be great friends with Edith 
 and her mother, and was made much of in his an- 
 tique manner by the senior De Grout. "Madam," 
 said he, " I knew your father well, long before 
 you were born ; his reverses and determined 
 withdrawal from society were a source of grief to 
 myself and others, who sought in vain to lure him 
 from his retirement. He was the soul of honor, 
 but a prouder man never lived. Your husband 
 is not unlike him. My dear if you will let 
 me call you so teach your children, in happy 
 days to come, that pride has its limits ; it is a 
 good armor of defence, but not a weapon to be
 
 A Lame Conclusion. 357 
 
 turned against one's friends. Your mother was 
 one of the loveliest women of her day ; you have 
 her eyes, her forehead. Her grandfather married 
 a distant cousin of my own, so that I may claim 
 you as a relative. I trust that you will not yield 
 to the charm of California ; it is a fine country, 
 but too new. Grafton Manor is not so far away, 
 and next summer we rely on your spending some 
 weeks at Oaklands." 
 
 Clinton and I, being satiated with these correct 
 festivities, determined on a little stag party at 
 Delmonico's on the eve of Dick's going. Mr. 
 Lybert heard of the plan, and, somewhat to our 
 disgust, begged to be admitted on the ground 
 floor, a favor which we saw no way to refuse. 
 The worthy publisher, unaccustomed to these re- 
 laxations, became effusive, and made a tearful 
 speech over his late employe". " A brilliant young 
 man," he said ; " a most excellent man, an inval- 
 uable man, whose loss to the city will be deeply 
 and widely felt. His departure leaves an aching 
 void in all our breasts, and most of all in mine. 
 Gentlemen, his was the master mind to superin- 
 tend all our periodicals. I offered him a partner- 
 ship, sirs, which he refused, as Caesar did the 
 kingly crown." 
 
 " Dick," Clinton remarked as we turned home- 
 ward, "it would appear that you're considerable 
 pumpkins of a huckleberry, after all. Did the 
 boss really want you in the firm ? "
 
 358 A Lame Conclusion. 
 
 "O," Dick returned lightly, "he's enlarging his 
 business, and it would meet his views to have my 
 uncle's cash added to the capital ; but it didn't 
 meet mine to go in. Speaking poetically, I'm not 
 on that lay." 
 
 "I guess not," said young De Grout. "When 
 you want to go into business, there's ours. If 
 you'd had any leaning that way, we'd have taken 
 you in long ago, and made a partner of you before 
 now, and be dashed to your million. Do you 
 know that, man of sin ? " 
 
 " I don't doubt it, dear boy," said Dick. 
 
 I do not believe Grafton will ever amount to 
 anything. He is a very good fellow, and greatly 
 respected now, of course, and enjoying life rather 
 more than he did of old ; but he has no earnest- 
 ness, no faith, no real respect for the established 
 Order of Things. His boys will probably come 
 to something, because they have their mother's 
 blood in them, and are getting her training ; but 
 if Dick ever wakes from his dream, and comes 
 into sympathy with the Cosmos, and asserts him- 
 self by taking some voluntary part in it, it will be 
 his wife's doing. 
 
 THE END. 
 
 CUPPLES A HURO, THE ALGONQUIN PRESS, BOSTON.
 
 Y e Bookvvorrne 
 
 Y e Olde Colonial Time 
 
 Extracts from 
 
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 f&fcjonquin 
 
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 The Algonquin Press Library. 
 
 Pictures of American Life and Character, Past and 
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 I. 
 
 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A NEW ENGLAND 
 
 FARM HOUSE. By N. H. Chamberlain. Illustrated. Third 
 edition. $1.50. 
 
 A boak that will take its place, on the shelves of tfie library, by the 
 side of " The Vicar of Wakefield." Born and bred on Cape Cod, the 
 author, at the winter firesides of country people -very conservative of 
 old English customs now gone, heard curious talk of kings, Puritan 
 ministers, the "war and precedent struggle of our Revolution, and 
 touched a race of tnen and women now passed away. He also heard, 
 chiefly from ancient women, the traditions of ghosts, witches, and In- 
 dians, as they are preserved, and to a degree Miftff, by honest Chris- 
 tian folk, in the very teeth of modern progress . These things are em- 
 bodied in this book. 
 
 II. 
 
 THE SPHINX IN AUBREY PARISH. By N. H. 
 
 Chamberlain. Illustrated. #1.50. 
 
 The instantaneous popularity of " A New England Farm House" 
 the aitthor' s first venture in the field of fiction (which has been read 
 and re-read by all classes, with an eagerness little short of that which 
 hailed the appearance of " Scarlet Letter" a generation ago), has led 
 the publishers to induce Mr. Chamberlain to consent to a companion 
 volume. Wholly distinct from that first book in its plot, scenery, ami 
 location, it will be found as interesting, and equally as strong in its 
 animation and sustained energy of action. 
 
 III. 
 
 OLD NEW ENGLAND DAYS : A Story of True Life. 
 By Sophie M. Damon. Illustrated. Fourth edition. 1.25. 
 
 IV. 
 
 AUNT PEN'S AMERICAN NIECES AT BLEDISLOE. 
 By Ada M. Troyr. Illustrated. Second Edition. $1.50. 
 
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 AROUND THE GOLDEN DEEP. A Romance of the 
 Sierras. By A. P. Reeder. $1.50. 
 
 VI. 
 
 CLEOPATRA'S DAUGHTER. A Romance ef a branch 
 of Roses. [/ press. 
 
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 AX ALIEN FROM THE COMMONWEALTH. The 
 
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 VIII. 
 
 A WINTER EVENING'S TALE. A Californian Ro- 
 
 mance. [/ press.
 
 Recent Publications 
 
 OF 
 
 CUPPLES & HURD, 
 
 PUBLISHERS, GENERAL BOOKSELLERS, AND 
 LIBRARY AGENTS, 
 
 Boston, Mass. 
 
 *** IMOTE. In order to insure the correct delivery of the actual -works, or 
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 distinctly given. These books can be had from any local bookseller ; but should 
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 THE AMERICAN TAUCHNITZ SERIES. 
 
 Square 161110. Paper covers, 50 cents. Cloth, $1.00. 
 I. 
 
 Miss FRANCES MERLEY: 
 
 A Novel. By JOHN ELLIOT CURRAN. 420 pages. 
 
 The first important work of an author familiar to American readers by his 
 remarkable sketches to Scribner's and other magazines. 
 
 II. 
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A NEW ENGLAND FARM HOUSE: 
 
 A Romance of the Cape Cod Lands. By N. H. CHAMBERLAIN. 380 pages. 
 A novel of singular power and beauty, great originality and rugged force. 
 Born and bred on Cape Cod, the author, at the winter firesides of country 
 people, very conservative of ancient English customs now gone, heard curious 
 talk of kings, Puritan ministers, the war and precedent struggle of our Revolu- 
 tion, and touched a race of men and women now passed away. He also heard, 
 chiefly from ancient women, the traditions of ghosts, witches and Indians, as 
 hey are preserved, and to a degree believed, by honest Christian folk, in the 
 very teeth of modern progress. These things are embodied in this book. 
 
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 les." A classic by reason of the esteem in which it is held by yachtsmen, and 
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 tongue. 
 
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 DAYLIGHT LAN D. The experiences, incidents, and adventures, b'"norous 
 and otherwise, which befell Judge John Doe, Tourist, of San Francisco ; 
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 from New Hampshire, and divers others, in their Parlor-Car Excuioion over 
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 Superbly illustrated with 150 cuts in various colors by the best artists. 
 
 CONTENTS: Introduction The Meeting A Breakfast A Very Hopefu 1 
 Man The Big Nepigon Trout The Man in the Velveteen Jacket The 
 Capitalist Camp at Rush Lake Big Game A Strange Midnight Ride 
 Banff Sunday among the Mountains Nameless Mountains The Great 
 Glacier The Hermit of Frazer Canon Fish and Fishing in British Colum- 
 bia Vancouver City Parting at Victoria. 
 
 8vo. 350 pages. Unique paper covers, $2.50; half leather binding, $3.50. 
 
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 of this book ; a region of country which is little known by the average reader, 
 but which in its scenery, its game, and its vast material and undeveloped 
 resources, supplies the author with a subject which has not been trenched upon 
 even by the magazines, and which he has treated in that lively and spirited 
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 information of the country, humorous and pathetic incidents, vivid descriptions 
 of its magnificent scenery, shrewd forecasts of its future wealth and greatness 
 when developed, illustrated and embellished with such lavishness and artistic 
 elegance as has never before been attempted in any similar work in this coun- 
 try. 
 
 ADIRONDACK TALES. By W. H. H. MURRAY. Illustrated, mno. 
 300 pages. $1.25. 
 
 Containing John Norton's Christmas Henry Herbert's Thanksgiving A 
 Strange Visitor Lost in the Woods A Jolly Camp Was it Suicide? 
 The Gambler's Death The Old Beggar's Dog The Ball Who was he ? 
 
 Short stories in Mr. Murray's best vein humorous; pathetic; full of the 
 spirit of the woods. 
 
 HOW DEACON TUBMAN AND PARSON WHITNEY KEPT 
 NEW YEARS, and other Stories. By W. H. H. MURRAY. i6mo. 
 Illustrated. $1.25. 
 
 A HEART REGAINED. By CARMEN- SYLVA (Queen of Roumania) 
 
 Translated by MARY A. MITCHELL. Fcap. 8vo. Cloth. $1.00. 
 A charming story by this talented authoress, told in her vivid, picturesqm 
 manner, and showing how patient waiting attains to ultimate reward. 
 
 Cupples and Httrd, ' **&*, BOSTON 
 
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 Important New Books. 
 
 THOMAS CARLYLE'3 COUNSELS TO A LITERARY ASPI- 
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 ai.'u fas a leaning itrw.jrjs literary wirk will read and ponder over. 
 
 SOCIAL LIFE AND LITERATURE FIFTY YEARS AGO. 
 
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 Pickering style. 
 
 CIVILIZATION IN THE UNITED STATES. By MATTHEW 
 ARNOLD. And Other Essays concerning America. i6mo, unique paper 
 boards. 75 cents. Cloth, uncut, $1.25. TIte cloth binding matches the 
 uniform edition of his collected 'works. 
 
 Comprises the critical essays, which created so much discussion, namely, 
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 about America," and " Civilization in the United States." 
 
 ** This collection gathers in the great critic's lasf contributor.." to i.ie.ature. 
 
 LEGENDS OF THE RHINE. From the German of P.*. rfEKXARD. 
 
 Translated by FR. ARNOLD. Finely Illustrated. Small 4to. Cloth. 
 An admirable collection of the popular historical traditions of tne Rhine, told 
 with taste and picturesque simplicity. {In press. 
 
 A SELECTION FROM THE POEMS OF PUSHKIN. 
 Translated, with Critical Notes and a Bibliography. By IVAN PANIN. 
 author of "Thoughts." Foolscap Svo. Unique binding. $2.00. 
 
 The first published translation by the brilliant young Russian, Ivan Panin, 
 whose lectures in Boston on the literature of Russia, during the autumn of last 
 ear, attracted crowded houses. 
 
 WIT, WISDOM, AND PATHOS, from the prose of HEINRICH HEINE, 
 
 with a few pieces from the " Book of Songs " Selected and translated by 
 J. SNODGRASS. Second edition, thoroughly revised. Cr. Svo, 338 pp. 
 Cloth, #2.00 
 
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 Important New Books. 
 
 BOOKS FOR THE SEEKER AND FOR THE SORROWFUL. 
 
 LIFE'S PROBLEMS. HERE AND HEREAFTER. An autobio- 
 graphy. By GEORGE TKIEJUELLE FLANDERS. i6mo. Cloth, gilt top. 
 $1.25. Second Edition revised. 
 
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 critics and by readers, both in this country and in England. This is not sur- 
 prising, for it treats the most difficult problems of life, here and hereafter, in a 
 hold and fearless manner, and at the same time in a candid and tender spirit, 
 and has supplanted unbelief, doubt, and perplexity, with faith, trust, and hope. 
 
 " // is a real spiritual biography an inner Ufe honestly revealed. . . Such 
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 WHENCE? WHAT? WHERE? A ViEW OF THE ORIGIN, 
 NATURE, AND DESTINY OF MAN. By JAMES R. NICHOLS. 
 With portrait of the author. i2mo. Cloth, gilt top. $1.25. Eleventh 
 edition, revised. 
 
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 ers of the same kind to co-operate with him, the world would find cut some- 
 thing of value. Joseph Cook. 
 
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 and to ponder on tlte all-important subjects which it presents. Though it is not 
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 exercise of the religious nature, and which in diffusing many sensible ideiis 
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 SORROWFUL. By JAMES HIKTON, M. D. With an introduction by 
 JAMES R. NICHOLS, author of "Whence? What? Where?" i6mo. 
 Cloth, gilt top. $1.00. 
 
 This book was published in England twenty years ago, and a small edition 
 was sent to this country, which readily found purchasers. The book, at the 
 time it appeared in England, had a limited sale ; but since the author's death a 
 new interest has arisen, and the work has been widely circulated and read. A 
 book which has comforted many a troubled soul, and awakened the emotion of 
 love in distressed and doubting hearts. Many good and uplifting thoughts in 
 the book, thoughts which will not readily pass from the memory. The prob- 
 lem of pain is indeed dark and not easily solved ; and if one is able to point 
 out rifts in the cloud, the world of sufferers v.-iil welcome the light as rays 
 breaking through from the regions of rest and bliss. From the Introduction. 
 
 " No -word of praise can add anything to the value of this little work, which 
 has now taken its place as one of the classics of religious literature. The ten- 
 der, reverent, and searching spirit of tjic author has come as a great consolation 
 and helfi to many persons. New York Critic. 
 
 Cnpples atid Hurd, Booksellers, BOSTON. 
 
 Library Agents,
 
 fmportant New Books. 
 
 TRAVESTIES, PARODIES, AND JEUX D'Esp,"!" 1 ". 
 
 THE IMAGINARY CONVERSATIONS OF HIS EXCELLENCE 
 AND DAN. By C. W. TAYLOR. With 40 .full-page silhouette illustra 
 tions by F. H. BLAIR. 90 pp. i6mo Paper. 25 cents. 
 
 "It is fun for the masses, wholly irrespective of political parties, such good- 
 natured fun that even those that it satirizes might well laugh. . . Probably tin 
 most humorous skit ever produced " 
 
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 OUR MODERN ATHENS- A Trilogy, after the manner of the 
 Greek. By ROBERT GRANT. Illustrated by F. G. ATTWOOD. Tenth edi- 
 tion. Pamphlet. Small 410. 50 cents. 
 
 Divided into Three Parts: The Wall Flowers; the Little Tin-Gods-on- 
 Wheels ; The Chaperons. A broad burlesque of Boston society scenes. 
 
 HOLLO'S JOURNEY TO CAMBRIDGE. A Tale of the Adventures 
 of the Historic Holiday Family at Harvard under the NVv Regime. Wirt 
 twenty-six illustrations, full-page frontispiece, and an illuminated cover ol 
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 Limp. London toy-book style. Third and enlarged edition. 75 cents. 
 
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 Boston Traveller. 
 "A brilliant and witty piece of fun." Chicago Tribune. 
 
 EVERY MAN HIS OWN POET; OR, THE INSPIRED 
 SINGER'S RECIPE BOOK. By W. H. MALLOCK, author of " New 
 Republic," etc. Eleventh Edition. i6mo. 25 cnts. 
 
 A most enjoyable piece of sa'ire, witty, clever, and refined. In society and 
 literary circles its success, both here and abroad, has been immense. 
 
 TWO COMEDIES: AN ILL WIND; AN ABJECT APOL- 
 OGY. By F. DONALDSON, JR. Fcap. 8ro. Paper, elegant. 50 cents. 
 
 These comedies belong to the same class of literature as do the lightest of 
 Austin Dobson's lyrics and Andrew Lang's least serious essays, and their form 
 is admirably suited to the depicting of the foibles and rather weak passions of 
 that indefinite caste, American society. They are evidently modelled on the 
 French vaudeville, and their characters are clever people, who say bright things. 
 Why should we not choose the people we describe from the clever minority, 
 instead of making them, as is sometimes done, unnecessarily dull, although 
 perhaps more true to nature at large ? Mr. Donaldson has done so, and much 
 of the dialogue in these comedies is clever as well cxs amusing. 
 
 Cupples and Hurd, B^U*", A BOSTON. 
 
 Library Agents,
 
 Important New Books. 
 
 TRANSLATIONS OF Two POWERFUL GERMAN NOVELS BY AUTHORS 
 
 NEW TO AMERICAN READERS. 
 
 THE LAST VON RECKENBURG. By LOUISE VON FRANCOIS. Trans- 
 lated from the third German edition. 370 pages. Cr. 8vo. Cloth, gilt. 
 #1.50. 
 
 The popularity of this book among the reading public of Europe, and the 
 interest it has excited in critical circles, led to the present translation into 
 English. Gustave Freytag, one of the greatest of German novelists, says of 
 it : " Clear, terse, with not a word too much, and rich in powerful expres- 
 sions, it depicts everything in short sentences, obedient to every mood, every 
 change of color. Readers will always close this volume with a consciousness 
 that they have received a rare gift." 
 
 MM. Erckmann-Chatrian have depicted the feverish excitement of France 
 during the height of Napoleon's meteor-like blaze : this equally powerful ro- 
 mance shows the reaction in Germany immediately after his downfall, when 
 the pulse of Europe was striving to regain its normal beat. 
 
 THE MONK'S WEDDING. A novel. By C. F. MEYER. Cr. 8vo 
 
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 This is an Italian story, written by a German, and translated by an American, 
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 " Hie jacet monachus Astorre cum uxore Antiope. Sepeliebat Azzolinus " 
 (Here sleeps the monk Astorre with his wife Antiope. Ezzelin gave them 
 
 difficulty in conjuring up what a gnm, lurid tale of secret cnme and suffering a 
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 of delicate touches and flashes of passion, a tragedy which cannot fail to leave 
 an impression of power upon the mind. 
 
 WORKS BY WILLIAM H. RIDEING. 
 
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 as a story, is interesting enough for the most experienced taste, and, as a satire, 
 it is manly and healthy." John Boyle O'Reilly. 
 
 " Notably free from the least sensationalism or unnaturalness. . . Flashes of 
 sterling wit, with touches of exquisite pathos, and with a quiet mastery of style 
 which I have rarely seen surpassed in American fiction and seldom equalled. 
 The incidental bits of philosophy, observation, and keen worldly knowledge 
 have few parallels in our literature.". Edgar Fa-wcett. 
 
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 LIVES CF FIVE DISTINGUISHED AMERICANS. THE ONLY 
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 ivIATTHEWCALBRAITH PERRY. A typical American Xaval Officer. 
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 " One of the best books of the year." Public Ot>iniott. 
 
 " His biography will be one of the naval classics." Army and Navy 
 Jon rnal. 
 
 " Has done his work right well." Chicago Evening Jmirnal. 
 
 " Highly entertaining audins:ructive.' r Universalist Quarterly. 
 
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 FOUNDER OF THE REPUBLICAN PARTY. A Memoir by 
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 A biography of one of the most interesting characters in the whole range of 
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 JOHN HOWARD PAYNE. A Biography of the author of "Home, 
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 and photographic illustrations of his tomb at Washington, etc., etc. Svo. 
 Cloth elegant, gilt top, in box. $3.00. 
 
 Apart from the remembrance and regard in which the author of " Home, 
 Sweet Home " is held by the world, this biography will possess additional inte- 
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 coran, the late eminent philanthropist, who provided the funds for the removal 
 of the poet's body from Africa to Washington. 
 
 THE LIFE OF ADMIRAL SIR ISAAC COFFIN, BARONET; 
 HIS ENGLISH AND AMERICAN ANCESTORS. By THOMAS 
 C. AMORY. With portrait. Large Svo. $1.15. 
 
 The name of Coffin is so widely spread over our continent, so many thous- 
 ands of men and women of other patronymics take pride in their descent from 
 Tristram, its first American patriarch, that what concerns them all, any consid- 
 erable branch or distinguished individual of the race, seems rather history than 
 biography. 
 
 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF COMMODORE CHARLES 
 
 MORRIS, tl'ith helMype portrait after Ary Schtffer. i vol. Svo. 
 in pages. $1.00. 
 
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 one who, in the words of Admiral Farragut, was "America's grandest seaman." 
 
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 HOW TO WRITE THE HISTORY OF A FAMILY. By w. P. 
 
 W. PHILLIMORE, M. A., B. C. L. i vol. Cr. 8vo. Tastefully printed in 
 untiqui style, handsomely bound. $2.00. 
 
 Unassuming, practical, essentially useful, Mr. Phillimore's book should be in 
 the hands of every one who aspires to search for his ancestors and to learn his 
 family history. Athenaum. 
 
 This is the best compendious genealogist's guide that has yet been published, 
 and Mr. Phillimore deserves the thanks and appreciation of all lovers of family 
 history. Reliquary. 
 
 Notice. Large Paper Edition. A few copies, en hand-made paper, wide mar- 
 gins, bound in half morocco, may be obtained, price $6.50 net. 
 
 THE KINSHIP OF MEN: An Argument from Pedigrees ; or, Genealogy 
 Viewed as a Science. By HENRY KENDALL. Cr. Svo. Cloth, $2.00. 
 
 The old pedigree-hunting was a sign of pride and pretension ; the modern is 
 simply dictated by the desire to know whatever can be known. The one 
 advanced itself by the methods of immoral advocacy ; the other proceeds by 
 those of scientific research. Spectator (London). 
 
 RECORDS AND RECORD SEARCHING. A Guide to the Genealo- 
 gist and Topographer. By WALTER RYE. Svo, cloth. Price $2.50. 
 This book places in the hands of the Antiquary and Genealogist, and others 
 interested in kindred studies, a comprehensive guide to the enormous mass of 
 material which is available in his researches, showing what it consists of, ant 1 
 where it can be found. 
 
 ANCESTRAL TABLETS. A Collections of Diagrams for Pedigrees, so 
 arranged that Eight Generations of the Ancestors of any Person may be 
 recorded in a connected and simple form. By WILLIAM H. WHITMORE, 
 A.M. SEVENTH EDITION. On lieavy parchment paper, large jto, 
 tastefully and strongly Bound, Roxburgh style. Price $2.00. 
 
 " No one with the least bent for genealogical research ever examined this in- 
 
 feniously compact substitute for the ' family tree ' without longing to own it. 
 t provides for the recording of eight lineal generations, and is a perpetual 
 incentive to the pursuit of one's ancestry." Nation. 
 
 THE ELEMENTS OF HERALDRY. A practical manual, showing 
 what heraldry is, where it comes from, and to what extent it is applicable to 
 American usage; to which is added a Glossary in English, French and 
 Latin of the forms employed. Profusely Illustrated. By W. H. 
 WHITMORE, author of " Ancestral Tablets," etc. \_Inpress. 
 
 Cupplts and Hurd, Boolleiiers, BOSTON. 
 
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 Important New Books. 
 
 RALPH WALDO EMERSON, PHILOSOPHER AND SEBR. An Estimate 
 
 of his Character and Genius. By A. BRONSON ALCOTT. 
 With portraits aitd other illustrations. Foolscap octavo. Gilt toj>. $1.50. 
 One hundred copies mill be printed on larger and finer paper, Svo, suitable 
 for the insertion of extra illustrations. Bound in Roxburgh, gilt top. Price 
 to Subscribers, $^.oo. 
 
 A book about Emerson, written by the one man who stood nearest to him of 
 all men. It is an original and vital contribution to Einersoma ; like a rortrait 
 of one of the old masters painted by his own brush. [/ J'ras. 
 
 HERMAN GRIMM'S WORKS. 
 
 THE LIFE OF RAPHAEL as shown in his principal works. From the 
 German of HERMAN GRIMM, r.uthor of "The Life of Michael Angelo," 
 etc. With frontispiece, after Crann, of the recently discovered portrait, 
 outlined by Raphael in chalk. Cr. Svo. Cloth. 2.00. 
 
 ESSAYS ON LITERATURE. From the German of HKRMAN CMMM, 
 uniform with "The Life of Raphael." New and enlarged edition, care- 
 fully corrected. Cr. Svo. Cloth. $2.00. 
 
 BY JAMES II. STARK. 
 
 ANTIQUE VIEWS OF YE TOWNE OF BOSTON. By JAMES H. 
 
 STARK, Assisted by Dr. SAMUEL A. GREEN, Ex-Mayor o Boston, Libra- 
 rian of the Massachusetts Historical Society; JOHN WARD DEAN, Libra- 
 rian of the New England Historic Genealogical Society; find Judge 
 MELLEN CIIA.MHERLAIN, of the Public Library. An extensive and exhaust- 
 ive -work in 378 pages. Large quarto. Illustrated with nearly zoo full 
 size reproductions of all known rare maps, old prints, fti . / vtl. 4/0. 
 Cloth. $6.00. 
 
 BERMUDA GUIDE. A description of everything on or about the Ber- 
 muda Islands, concerning which the visitor or resident may desire informa- 
 tion, including its history, inhabitants, climate, agriculture, geology, 
 government, military and naval establishments. By JAMES H. STARK. 
 With Maps, Engravings and 16 plioto-prints. i vol. 121110, cloth, 
 
 157 PP- #2.00. 
 
 PAUL REVERE: Historical and Legendary. By EuiumcE H. Coss. 
 With reproductions of many of Revere 's engravings, etc. [In frets. 
 
 A DIRECTORY OF THE CHARITABLE AND BENEFICENT 
 ORGANIZATIONS OF BOSTON, ETC. Prepared for the Asso. 
 
 ciated Charities, i vol., 196 pp. i6mo. Cloth, 1.00. 
 
 Cupples and Hurd, " B%&u*r* t BOSTON, 
 
 Library Agents.
 
 Important New Books. 
 
 PROF. CLARK MURRAY'S WORKS. 
 
 SOLOMON MAIMON: An Autobiography. Translated from the Ger- 
 man, with Additions and Notes, by Prof. J. CLAKK MURRAY, i vol. 
 Cr. 8vo. Cloth. 307 pp. $2.00. 
 
 A life -which forms one of the most extraordinary biographies in the history 
 vf literature. 
 
 The London Spectator says: "Dr. Clark Murray has had the rare good 
 fortune of first presenting this singularly vivid book in an English translation 
 as pure and lively as if it were an original, and an original by a classic 
 English writer. 
 
 George Eliot, in "Daniel Deronda," mentions it as "that wonderful bit of 
 autobiography the life of the Polish Jew, Solomon Maimon " ; and Milman, 
 in his " History of the Jews," refers to it as a curious and rare book. 
 
 HANDBOOK OF PSYCHOLOGY. By Prof. J. CLARK MURRAY, 
 LL D., Professor of Mental and Moral Philosophy, M'Gill College, 
 Montreal. Cr. 8vo. zd edition, enlarged and improved, $i-75* 
 Clearly and simply written, with illustrations so well chosen that the dullest 
 
 student can scarcely fail to take an interest in the subject. 
 
 ADOPTED FOR USE IN COLLEGES IN SCOTLAND, ENGLAND, 
 CANADA, AND THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 Prof. Murray's good fortune in bringing to light the " ATaimon Memoirs" 
 '.ogcthcr with the increasing popularity of his "Handbook of Psychology" ha\ 
 ittracted the attention of the intelleitnal ivorld, giving him a position 
 with the leaders of thonght of the present age. His writings are at once 
 original and suggestive. 
 
 AALESUNb TO TETUAN. By CHAS, R. CORNING. A Volume of 
 
 Travel. 121110. 400 pp. Cloth. $2.00. 
 
 TABLE OF CONTENTS. Portsmouth Isle of Wight Channel Islands 
 Normandy Nice Monte Carlo Genoa Naples and its Environments 
 Rome Verona Venice Norway Sweden St. Petersburg Moscow 
 IVarsaw Berlin Up the Rhine Barcelona Valencia Seville Cadiz 
 
 Morocco Gibraltar Granada Madrid and the Royal Wedding Bull 
 Fights Escurial Biarritz Bordeaux Paris. 
 
 TAPPY'S CHICKS: or, Links Between Nature and Human Nature. 
 By MRS. GEORGE CUPI-LES. Illustrated. i6mo. Cloth. #1.25. 
 
 The tenderness and humor of this volume are simply exquisite. E. P. 
 W hippie. 
 
 The title is altogether too insignificant for so delightful and valuable a work 
 
 Spectator (London). 
 
 It is not merely a work of talent, but has repeated strokes of undeniable 
 genius. George Matdonald. \In preparation. 
 
 Cupples and Hurd, " "**//*, BOSTON. 
 
 Library Agents,
 
 Important New BooRs. 
 
 THE HEIDI SERIES. 
 STORIES FOR CHILDREN AND THOSE WHO LOVE CHILDREN. 
 
 Translated from the German of Johanna Spyri by Louise Brooks. 
 
 HEIDI: HER YEARS OF WANDERING AND LEARNING. How SHE USED WHAT 
 
 SHE LEARNED. 2 vols. in one. i2mo. Cloth, pp. 668. 8th edition, with 
 7 illustrations, and portrait of the Authoress. $1.50. 
 
 RICO AND WISELI. "RICO AND STINELLI," and "HOW 
 RICO FOUND A HOME." ijmo. pp. 509. doth. #,.50. 
 
 VERONICA AND OTHER FRIENDS. i2mo. 5,7 pages. Cloth. #,. 5 o. 
 GRITLI'S CHILDREN, umo. 397 pages. Cloth. $1.50. 
 
 The Atlantic Monthly pronounces " Heidi " "a delightful book . . . charm, 
 ingly told. The book is, as it should be, printed in clear type, well leaded, and 
 is bound in excellent taste. Altogether it is one which we suspect will be 
 looked back upon a generation hence by people who now read it in their child- 
 hood, and they will hunt for the old copy to read in it to their children." 
 
 A leading Sunday-school paper further says : " No better books for a Sunday- 
 school library have been published for a long time. Scholars of all ages will 
 read them with delight. Teachers and parents will share the children's enjoy- 
 ment." 
 
 The steadily increasing sales of these books attest to their extreme popularity 
 and value, and it has been truly said that their publication marks an era in the 
 history of juvenile literature. Their sweetness, purity, and freedom from any 
 sectarian bias, have secured for them a place in the Sunday-school libraries of 
 all denominations, and make them as welcome to those having charge of the 
 young as they are to the children themselves. 
 
 OLD NEW ENGLAND DAYS. A story of true life. By SOPHISM. 
 DAMON. Second edition. i6mo. $1.25. 
 
 " Reading ' Old New England Days ' is like talking with an old lady who has 
 long since passed the allotted " three score and ten, and now delights in noth- 
 ing so much as in recalling the far distant days of her youth." Concord Even- 
 ing Gazette. 
 
 " The beauty of the tale is in the touches of Yankee life and lore, joy and 
 sorrow, which crop out at every turn of the page, like dandelions in a summer 
 field." Christian Journal. 
 
 MAHALY SAWYER; OR, PUTTING YOURSELF IN HER 
 PLACE. By S. E. DOUGLASS. i6ino. Cloth. 125. 
 
 This is a very curious and a remarkably interesting little book. The Chris- 
 tian Register, one of the ablest of critical reviews, says: " If the number of 
 people vitally interested in the motif oi this bright story should all be^the num- 
 ber of its readers, it would have a circulation equal to ' Uncle Tom's Cabin.' 
 ... It is a realistic tale, which, in its way, puts Mr. Howells to shame." 
 
 Publishers , r> /-> r- ~r/-\ \ r 
 
 Cupples and Hurd, ***//,, BOSTON. 
 
 ff Library Agents,
 
 Important New Books. 
 
 WORKS BY SALLY PRATT MCLEAN. 
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. A novel. Twenty-third edition. Illustrated. i2mo. 
 Cloth. $1.25. 
 
 TOWHEAD: THE STORY OF A GIRL. Fifth thousand, umo. 
 Cloth. $1.25. 
 
 SOME OTHER FOLKS. A Book in Four Stories. I2mo. Cloth. $1.25. 
 
 These books are so well known that further comment seems superfluous. 
 Suffice it to say that the entire press of the country has unanimously spoken or 
 them in terms of high praise, dwelling not only on their delicious humor, their 
 literary workmanship, their genuine pathos, and their real power and eloquence, 
 but what has been described as their deep, true hinnanr.ess, and the inimitable 
 manner in whicR the mirror is held up to nature that all may see reflected 
 therein some familiar trait, some description or character which is at once recog- 
 nized. 
 
 MISS McLEAlTS NEW BOOK. 
 
 Since the production of Miss McLean's first effort " Cape Cod Folks," she 
 has steadily advanced in intellectual development ; the same genius is at work 
 in a larger and more artistic manner, until she has at lergth produced v. h.-.t 
 must be truly considered as her masterpiece, and which we have the pleasure to 
 announce for immediate publication. 
 
 LASTCHANCE JUNCTION; FAR, FAR WEST. A novel. By 
 SAILY PRATT MCL-EAN. i vol. izmo Cloth. $1.25. 
 
 The author in this book sees further and clearer than she saw in her earlier 
 works ; she has stepped, as it were, out of the limits of her former thought and 
 action into the centre of the arena of the world's full, rich life; from the indi- 
 vidual characteristic she has passed to the larger weaknesses and virtues of 
 humanity, with their inevitable results of tragedy and nobility. Much as 
 has been said respecting the pathos of her former books, one feels, as the 
 last page of " Lastchance Junction " has been turned, that they were but sma'l 
 as compared with this, so terribly earnest is it, so true in its delineation of life, 
 with all its elements of tragedy and comedy ; and life, moreover, in that region 
 of our country where Nature still reigns supreme, and where humanity, uncon- 
 trolled by the conventionalities of more civilized communities, stands sharply 
 drawn in the strong shadows of villainy and misery, and in the high lights of 
 uncultured, strong nobility and gentleness. There are no half-tones. 
 
 Terse, incisive descriptions of men and scenery, drawn with so vivid a pen 
 that one can see the characters and their setting, delicious bits of humor, 
 passages full of infinite paihos, make this book absolutely hold the reader from 
 the title to the last word, and as, when finished, one sighs for the pity of it, the 
 feeling rises that such a work has not been written in vain, and will have its 
 place among those which tend to elevate our race. 
 
 Cupples and Hurd, Bookttur* BOSTON. 
 
 I. ibrary Agctits,
 
 Important New Books. 
 
 JOHN BROWN. By HERMANN VON HOLST, author of "Constitutional 
 History of the United States," &c., together with an introduction and appen- 
 dix by FRANK P. STEARNS, a poem by Mr. WASON, and a letter describing 
 John Brown's grave. Illustrated. i6mo, gilt top. $1.50. 
 This book, the author of which is so well known by his " Constitutional His- 
 tory," and by his biography of John C. Calhoun, cannot fail to be of interest to 
 all students of American history, who appreciate a calm, impartial criticism of 
 a man and an episode which have been universally and powerfully discussed. 
 
 MARGARET; and THE SINGER'S STORY. By EFFIB DOUGLASS 
 PUTNAM. Daintily bound in white, stamped in gold and color, gilt 
 edges. i6mo. 431.25. 
 
 A collection of charming poems, many of which are familiar through the 
 rri2d:um of the magazines and newspaper press, with some more ambitious 
 flights, amply fulfilling the promise of the shorter efforts. Tender and pastoral, 
 breathing the simple atmosphere of the fields and woods. 
 
 AROUND THE GOLDEN DEEP. A Romance of the Sierras. 
 
 By A. P. REEDER. 500 pages. i2ino. Cloth. $1.50. 
 
 A novel of incident and adventure, depicting with a strong hand the virile life 
 of the mine that gives its name to the story, and contrasting it with the more 
 refined touches of society in the larger cities ; well written an&interesting. 
 
 SIGNOR I- By SALVATORE FARINA. Translated by the Baroness LANCE- 
 
 NATJ. i2mo. Cloth. $1.25. 
 
 A dainty story by an Italian author, recalling in the unique handling of its 
 incidents, and in the development of its plot, the delicate charm of " Marjorie 
 Daw." 
 
 MIDNIGHT SUNBEAMS, OR BITS OF TRAVEL THROUGH 
 THE LAND OF THE NORSEMAN. By EDWIN COOLIDGE KIM- 
 BALL. On fine paper, foolscap Svo, tastefully and strongly bound, with 
 vignette. Cloth. $1.25. 
 P.anounced by Scandinavians to be accurate in its facts and descriptions. 
 
 ind of great interest to all who intend to travel in or have come from Norway 
 
 >r Sweden. 
 
 WOOD NOTES IN THE GLOAMING- Poems and Translations by 
 
 MARY MORGAN. Square i6mo. Cloth, full gilt. $1.25. 
 A collection of poems and sonnets showing great talent, and valuable transla- 
 tions from Gautier, Heine, Uhland, Sully-Prudhomme, Gottschalk, Michael 
 .\ngelo, and others. Also prose translations from the German, edited and 
 prefaced by Max Miiller. 
 
 Publishers, r>/^\C" T~/~\ \ J 
 
 Cvpples and Hurd, Book^u, BOS 1 UN. 
 
 Library Agents,
 
 Important New Books. 
 
 SCOTTISH HUMOR. 
 
 DAVID KENNEDY, THE SCOTTISH SINGER: Reminiscences 
 of his Life and Work by MARJORY KENNEDY. With portrait and illustra- 
 tions. 8vo. Cloth. 479 pp. $2.00. 
 
 A highly interesting narrative of this humorous and pathetic singer, who will 
 be remembered the world over, not only by Scotchmen, but by all those who, at 
 any time, have formed a part of his delighted audiences, and who recall the in- 
 imitable manner in which he rendered all that is best in Scottish poetry and song. 
 Genuine fun and drollery, keen observation of men and manners, notes of travel 
 in many cities, the vicissitudes of an artistic career, are all depicted here with 
 force and style. 
 
 NEW AND CHARMING WORK ON JAPAN. 
 
 NINE YEARS IN NIPON : SKETCHES OF JAPANESE LIFE 
 AND MANNERS. By HENRY FAULDS, L. F. P. S., Surgeon o/TsvKiJi 
 Hospital, Tokio ; Member oftlie Royal Asiatic Society. With lithographed 
 frontispiece, and initial letters and illustrations on wood by Japanese 
 artists, i vol. 304 pp. 8vo. Cloth. With appropriate and original cover 
 designs. $2.00. 
 
 The best inexpensive book on Japan that has yet appeared ; valuable as the 
 record of the observations and experiences of one who, by virtue of his profes- 
 sion and his long residence, was admitted into the inner life of that conserva- 
 tive people, the Japanese. Teeming with accurate information and eloquent 
 description, especially of the social life of the people, of which the ordinary 
 traveller sees practically nothing, it is a valuable addition to the literature of 
 geographical, ethnological, and social science. 
 
 THE TERRACE OF MON DESIR. A Novel of Russian Life. By 
 SOPHIE RADFORD DE MEISSNER. i2mo. Cloth limp, elegant. $1.25. 3rd 
 edition. 
 
 This novel is written by the A merican wife of a Russian diplomat, -who, by 
 virtue of her position, is -well qualified to describe tlu scenes and characters 
 tvhich she has chosen to present', she writes with the clear, unbiassed view of 
 her native country, and shows, perhaps for ths first time, an unprejudiced pict- 
 ure of Russian society. 
 
 Her literary style has been pronounced easy and flowing, "with a certain opu- 
 lence in its swift panorama of bright scenes and high persottages, and readers 
 who recall the cnarming story of Switzerland which appeared in a late mint*"*- 
 (if " Scribner" will need no further recommendation to the perusal of this 
 work. 
 
 In these days when so much interest and sympathy is evoked by the narration 
 of the miseries of the moujik this novel comes very a propos, as it presents 
 a picture of the social and domestic life of that other branch of the Russians, the 
 aristocratic, governing class ; who, notwithstanding their adherence to French 
 models, still have that indefinite touch of their Oriental ancestry which gives 
 them their romance and passion ; and renders them as emphatically Russian as 
 the most humble peasant. 
 
 Cupples and Hard, Boilers, BOSTON. 
 
 Library Agents,
 
 Important New Books. 
 
 STANDARD BOOKS BY THE AUTHOR OF "MADGE" AND 
 "SHERBROOKE." 
 
 A distinguished critic says: "There is nothing sensational or dramatic 
 about the writings of Mrs. H. B. Good\vin. Her books are natural, heartfelt, 
 and a true mirror of this not altogether uuromantic life of ours." 
 
 DR. HOWELL'S FAMILY- i vol. i6mo. Cloth elegant. $,. m . X e r 
 and popular edition. 
 
 "Of the merits of this \vork it is difficult to speak too highly. It is written 
 in a style as near perfection as it is possible to conceive, belter books a parent 
 cannot put into the.hands of a son or daughter." Watchman. 
 
 CHRISTINE'S FORTUNE, i vol. i6mo. Cloth elegant. ..oo. New 
 and popular edition. 
 
 Like a pearl on the sands of the seashore is the story of Christine among the 
 average novels of the day. The interest is sustained, and no one who begins 
 the book will lay it down until lie lias finished reading it, and will rise from it 
 with the feeling that he has been in excellent company. The style, the senti 
 ments, and the teachings are faultless and ennobling. 
 
 ONE AMONG MANY, i vol. :6mo. Cloth elegant. $1.00. 
 
 The author has not drawn imaginary and impossible characters, but lias se- 
 lected a few from the vast theatre of life to portray the loveliness of that wis- 
 dom " which is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, and easy to be entreated, full 
 of mercy and good fruits." 
 
 OUR PARTY OF FOUR. A story of Travel, i vol. i6mo. Cloth 
 elegant. $1.00. 
 
 Readers will find great pleasure in fol'mvinjc the fortunes of the kind-hearted 
 narrator and her three friends in their Kuropc.ni tour, and in the glimpses of 
 their subsequent careers at home. A rare combination of travel, intellectual 
 discussion, exciting adventure, and the portrayal of earnest feeling and refined 
 sentiment. 
 
 THE ANGEL OF THE VILLAGE. By L. M. OHORX. Translated by 
 Mrs. MATHEWS. i6mo. Cloth. 1.25. 
 
 "A work possessing unusually high merit. It is such fiction as elevates and 
 makes beneficent influences keenly manifest; . . abounding in deepest inte- 
 rest, and written in the most fascinating style." Journal, Philipsburg, Pa. 
 
 " Purely and pleasantly written." Christian Register. 
 
 " Honest and pure in tone, with a distinctly religious inspiration." Ameri- 
 can, Philadelphia. 
 
 " Elevated in tone, and healthy in its suggestions and influence." Utiivcr- 
 salist Quarterly. 
 
 Publishers, n/^r" ~r/^ i r 
 
 Cupples and Hitrd, Bcc^iicr*, BOSTON. 
 
 Library Agents,
 
 Important New Books. 
 
 STRAY LEWES FROM NEWPORT. By MRS. WM. LAMONT 
 WHEELER. Exquisitely printed and most beautifully bound in tapestry, 
 white atid gold. Gilt top. Uncut edges. 121110. $1.50. 
 Two editions of these charming prose idyls were exhausted within two weeks 
 
 of publication. Third edition now preparing. 
 
 whi 
 
 presents will be readily recognized as direct copi*.* j, , ,,..,..,^. ^..^ ~, .,.*. 
 
 mutely acquainted with the scenes she describes, and the literary quality of her 
 
 book is of a character that will retommend it to readers of cultivated tastes. 
 
 Gazette. 
 
 ION A : A Lay of Ancient Greece. By PAYNE ERSKINE. Cr. 8vo. Cloth. 
 Gilt top. $1.75. 
 
 Musical, and full of classic beauty, recalling in many passages the delicate 
 and subtle charm of Keats. 
 
 WHAT SHALL MAKE US WHOLE? or, Thoughts in the direction 
 of Man's Spiritual and Physical Integrity. By HELEN BIGELOW MERRI- 
 MAN. Third Edition. i6mo, unique boards. 75 cents. 
 
 An endeavor to present iu a popular way the philosophy and practice of 
 mental healing. 
 
 The author does not claim for her essay either completeness or permanent 
 value, but hopes " to fix a few points and establish a few relative values, in an- 
 ticipation of the time when human research and experience shall complete the 
 pictures." 
 
 She holds that the human mind can achieve nothing that is so good except 
 when it becomes the channel of the infinite spirit of God, and that so-called 
 mind cures are not brought about wholly by the power of the mind over the 
 body, or by the influence of one mind over another. 
 
 Religious enthusiasm and scientific medicine abound in cases of extraordi- 
 nary cures of diseases effected by what, for the sake of convenience, is gener- 
 ally called "faith." 
 
 It will not do, says the British Medical Journal, for pathologists and psy- 
 chologists to treat these " modern miracles " so cavalierly. 
 
 In them are exhibited, in a more or less legitimate manner, the results of the 
 action of the mind upon the bodily functions and particles. 
 
 Hysteria is curable by these phenomena, since hysteria, after all, is only an 
 unhealthy mastery of the body over the mind, and is cured by this or any other 
 stimulus to the imagination. "Therefore," says the editor of the above jour- 
 nal, " there is no reason to doubt that faith-healing, so called, may have 
 more positive results than we have been accustomed to allow." 
 
 TYPICAL NEW ENGLAND ELMS AND OTHER TREES- 
 Reproduced by Photogravure from photographs by HENRY BROOKS, with an 
 Introduction, and with Notes by L. L. Dame. 4to. [Ingress. 
 
 Publishers, 
 
 Cupples and Hurd, Booksellers, BOSTON. 
 
 Library Agents,
 
 Important New Books. 
 
 HERMAN GRIMM'S WORKS. 
 
 THE LIFE OF RAPHAEL as shown in his principal works. From the 
 German of HERMAN GRIMM, author of "The Life of Michael Angelo," 
 etc. Translated by Miss S. H.ADAMS. IVit/i frontispiece, after Braun, 
 of the recently discovered portrait, outlined by Raphael in chalk, Cr. 8vo. 
 Cloth. $2.00. Half calf. $4.00. 
 
 It is a masterpiece of intelligent and conscientious criticism. New 
 York Sun. 
 
 The whole book is written in the highest spirit of criticism, and will greatly 
 enrich the store of English works on art. Boston Post. 
 
 The Raphael is a vital contribution to the science of biography. Philadel- 
 phia Ledger. 
 
 ESSAYS ON LITERATURE. From the German of HERMAN GRIMM, 
 uniform with "The Life of Raphael." Translated by Miss S. H. ADAMS. 
 New and enlarged edition, carefully corrected. Cr. Svo. Cloth $2.00. 
 Half calf. $4.00. 
 
 There has been written no finer, more appreciative, or more just essay on 
 Emerson than that found in the pages of this book; and every admirer of 
 Emerson will be p!ad to read this tribute of a "foreign friend." .... All the 
 essays treat logically and incisively the subjects chosen by the essayist, and there 
 is a freshness and charm about the phraseology that delights the reader. 
 Boston Transcript. 
 
 These are among the best specimens of literary and historic criticism. 
 Chicago A dvance. 
 
 UNIFORM WITH THE ABOVE. 
 
 THE LIFE AND TIMES OF GOETHE. By HERMAN GRIMM. Trans- 
 lated, with the author's approval, by Miss S. H.ADAMS. With an intro- 
 duction by the author, for the American edition. Cr. Svo. Cloth, $2.50. 
 Half calf. $4.50. 
 I return to you herewith the manuscript of your translation of my book, 
 
 which you have intrusted to me. I have compared it carefully, and find it 
 
 excellent. Herman Grimm to the Translator. 
 
 THE LIFE OF MICHAEL ANGELO. By HERMAN GRIMM. Trans- 
 lated from the German by FANNY ELIZABETH BUNNETT. 2 vols. Cr. Svo. 
 Cloth. $5.00. Half calf. $9.00. 
 
 As a history it is wise, just, discriminating, and so dramatic that it cannot 
 fail to be popular. New York Evening Post. 
 
 The work is invaluable for men of wide reading, generous culture, and a 
 fondness for the literature of art. Springfield Republican. 
 
 Publishers, r\/^\f^T/-\^ T 
 
 Citpples and Hurd, Book^n, BOSTON. 
 
 rr Library Agents,
 
 Important New Books. 
 
 BOOKS BY ANTI-SLAVERY WRITERS. 
 ACTS OF THE ANTI-SLAVERY APOSTLES. By PARKER 
 
 PlLLSBURV. I2IT10. Cloth. $1.50. 
 
 THE STORY OF ARCHER ALEXANDER, FROM SLAVERY 
 TO FREEDOM. By W. G. ELIOT. Illustrated. i6mo. Cloth. 90 cents. 
 
 WITH 32 ILLUSTRATIONS AND MAPS. 
 
 THE WINNIPEG COUNTRY. A record of a journey of 35 oomilesby 
 canoe, stage, saddle, and ox-cart, through the northern portion of the Ameri- 
 can continent. By a Professor of Harvard University. i2mo. Cloth. ?i.75- 
 
 WORKS ABOUT BOSTON. 
 
 RAMBLES IN OLD BOSTON, NEW ENGLAND. B y Emv A Ki> 
 G. PORTER. With forty-two full-page and over fifty smaller illustrations 
 from original drawings by G. R. TOLMAN. Second edition. Large paper, 
 parchment binding, $15.00; half levant, 25.00; i vol. quarto, half leather, 
 cloth sides, uncut edges, #6.00. 
 
 ANTIQUE VIEWS OF YE TOWN OF BOSTON. By JAMES H. 
 STARK, assisted by Dr. SAMUEL A. GREEN, Ex-Mayor of Boston, and others. 
 Illustrated. 410. Cloth. $6.00. 
 
 A DIRECTORY OF THE CHARITABLE AND BENEF.CENT 
 ORGANIZATIONS OF BOSTON, ETC. Prepared for t'.io Asso- 
 ciated Charities. i vol. 196 pp. i6rrio. Cloth. $1.00. 
 
 THE EVACUATION OF BOSTON. By GEORGE E. ELLIS, D.D., LL.D. 
 
 With a Chronicle of the Siege. Steel engravings, full-page heliotype fac- 
 similes, maps, etc. Imperial Svo. Cloth. $2.00. 
 
 NOTES ON THE HISTORY OF THE OLD STATE HOUSE 
 (BOSTON). By GEORGE H. MOORE, LL.D. 2 vols. in one. Svo. Cloth. 
 $2.00. 
 
 Ea's MEXICO. 
 
 ARCH/EOLOGICAL RECONNOISSANCE INTO MEXICO. By 
 A. F. BANDELIEK. With upwards of one hundred illustrations, heliotypes, 
 woodcuts, colored engravings, etc. Second edition. Large Svo. Clot'i, 
 bevelled, gilt top. $5.00. 83P" T/te right to raise the price -without 
 notice is reserved: a letter-press book t and not stereotyped. 
 The standard work on the subject, always quoted as the authority. 
 
 Publishers 
 
 Cupples and Hurd, Booksellers, BOSTON. 
 
 Library Agents,
 
 Important New Books. 
 
 HARVARD UNIVERSITY. 
 
 HARVARD, THE FIRST AMERICAN UNIVERSITY : ITS HIS- 
 TORY IN EARLY DAYS- By G. G. BUSH. Choicely illustrated, 
 with rare and curious engravings. Large Paper, 4 to, $5.00; i6mo, 
 Roxburgh binding, cloth, $1.25. 
 
 Printed in the antique style ; a very careful and beautiful piece of book- 
 making, and a valuable contribution to the early history of education in our 
 country. 
 
 HARVARD UNIVERSITY IN THE WAR OF 1861-1865. A 
 
 record of services rendered in the army and navy of the United States by 
 the graduates and students of Harvard College and the professional 
 schools. By F. H. BROWN. 8vo. With index. Cloth, gilt top, rough 
 edges. $4.00. 
 
 HOMES OF OUR FOREFATHERS. A selection of views cf the 
 most interesting Historical Buildings now remaining in New England, 
 and consisting of four volumes, each independent of the others. About 
 three hundred illustrations in the four volumes from original drawings 
 taken on the spot by E. Whitefield. 
 Each volume is royal 8vo, bevelled boards, gilt edges, $6.00 per vol., or 
 
 $20.00 for the entire work. The first, third, and fourth volumes are now ready, 
 
 and the other will soon be completed. 
 Vol. I., Eastern Massachusetts; Vol. II., Western Massachusetts; Vol. III., 
 
 Connecticut and Rhode Island; Vol. IV., Maine, New Hampshire, and 
 
 Vermont. 
 
 EDITED BY RUSKIN. 
 
 THE STORY OF IDA. By FRANCES ALEXANDER (FRANCESCA). Edited, 
 with preface, by JOHN RUSKIN. With frontispiece by the author. 161110. 
 Limp cloth, red edges. Eleventh thousand. 75 cents. 
 
 WILLIAMS ON THE CARE OF THE EYE. 
 
 OUR EYES AND HOW TO TAKE CARE OF THEM. 
 
 By HENRY W. WILLIAMS, M. D. izmo. Cloth, red edges. $1.00. 
 The fact that the first edition of this work was some time since exhausted, 
 and that two edition-s of it have been published in London (without the know- 
 ledge and consent of the author), permits him to hope that its republication, 
 in a revised form, may be acceptable to those who wish to know what should 
 be done and what avoided in order that the sight, the most important of our 
 senses, may be enjoyed and preserved. Preface. 
 
 Publishers, .- . ,, ~~/~. . , 
 
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 Important New Books. 
 
 WORKS BY RUSSIAN AUTHORS. 
 THE POEMS OF ALEXANDER PUSHKIN. Translated from the 
 
 Russian, with a bibliographical preface, an introduction, and notes, by Ivan 
 
 Panin. i vol. i6mo. Bound in yellow satin and white vellum, with an 
 
 appropriate design and gilt top. Price, $2.00. 
 
 This is a solitaire and a masterpiece. Pushkin is by far the most celebrated 
 of all Russian poets, and only a Russian can translate him. The volume is 
 beautifully printed, and appeals to choice minds. Tlie Beacon. 
 
 THOUGHTS- By IVAN PANIN. First and second series (sold separately). 
 
 i6mo. Cloth. Price, 50 cents each. 
 
 " Good thoughts and wise precepts." Boston Advertiser. 
 
 " An expert in pithy expression." Boston Globe. 
 
 " The truth is, this little volume in a small compass is a treasury of thought." 
 Church Press. 
 
 ANNOUCHKA. A novel. By IVAN TOURGUENEFF. i6mo. Cloth. $1.00. 
 
 POEMS IN PROSE. By IVAN TOURGUBNEFF. Portrait. 121111. Cloth, 
 gilt top, uncut edges. $1.25. 
 
 WORKS RELATING TO MUSIC AND THE DRAMA. 
 YESTERDAYS WITH ACTORS- By KATE REIGNOLDS WIN-SLOW. 
 
 Second edition. Illustrated with many portraits and vignettes. Cr. .Svo. Cloth, 
 
 Colored top, uncut, $2.00; white and gold, gilt top, $2.50. 
 
 Anecdote and sparkling reminiscences concerning famous actors and 
 actresses who have flitted across the American stage, by a distinguished actress 
 whose personality still lingers in the memory of the theatre-goer of twenty 
 years ago and later. |J^ = ' Tlie publishers reserve the right to raise the price q/ 
 this book without notice. 
 
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