f stuff lying
round in the gutters that I can work up, if I have the stomach for it.
You'll see it in Pinney's report, whether I do it or not. Pinney thinks
it's all valuable material. I left him there interviewing the
defaulter's family, and making material out of their misery. I couldn't
_do_ that."

"I shouldn't want you to, Brice," said his mother. "I couldn't bear to
have you."

"Well, we're wrong, both of us, from one point of view," said the young
fellow. "As Pinney says, it's business to do these things, and a
business motive ought to purify and ennoble any performance. Pinney is
getting to be a first-class reporter; he'll be a managing editor and an
owner, and be refusing my work in less than ten years."

"I hope you'll be out of such work long before that," said the mother.

"I'm likely to be out of all kinds of work before that, if I keep on at
this gait. Pinney hasn't got the slightest literary instinct: he's a
wood-chopper, a stable-boy by nature; but he knows how to make copy, and
he's sure to get on."

"Well, you don't want to get on in his way," the mother urged
soothingly.

"Yes; but I've got to get on in his way while I'm trying to get on in my
own. I've got to work eight hours at reporting for the privilege of
working two at literature. That's how the world is built. The first
thing is to earn your bread."

"Well, you _do_ earn yours, my son--and no one works harder to earn
it."

"Ah, but it's so damned dirty when I've earned it."

"Oh, my son!"

"Well, I won't swear at it. That's stupid, too; as stupid as all the
rest." He rose from the chair he had dropped into, and went toward the
door of the next room. "I must beautify my person with a clean collar
and cuffs. I'm going down to make a call on the Back Bay, and I wish to
leave a good impression with the fellow that shows me the door when he
finds out who I am and what I want. I'm going to interview Mr. Hilary on
the company's feelings towards their absconding treasurer. What a dose!
He'll never know I hate it ten times as bad as he does. But it's my only
chance for a scoop."

"I'm sure he'll receive you well, Brice. He must see that you're a
gentleman."

"No, I'm not a gentleman, mother," the son interrupted harshly from the
room where he was modifying his linen. "I'm not in that line of
business. But I'm like most people in most other lines of business: I
intend to be a gentleman as soon as I can afford it. I shall have to
pocket