well
received by the public and the leading critics of this part of the State,
that I think of having them printed in a volume. I am going to the city
for that purpose. My mother has given her consent. I wish to ask you
several business questions. Shall I part with the copyright for a
downright sum of money, which I understand some prefer doing, or publish
on shares, or take a percentage on the sales? These, I believe, are the
different ways taken by authors."

Mr. Gridley was altogether too considerate to reply with the words which
would most naturally have come to his lips. He waited as if he were
gravely pondering the important questions just put to him, all the while
looking at Gifted with a tenderness which no one who had not buried one
of his soul's children could have felt for a young author trying to get
clothing for his new-born intellectual offspring.

"I think," he said presently, "you had better talk with an intelligent
and liberal publisher, and be guided by his advice. I can put you in
correspondence with such a person, and you had better trust him than me a
great deal. Why don't you send your manuscript by mail?"

"What, Mr. Gridley? Trust my poems, some of which are unpublished, to
the post-office? No, sir, I could never make up my mind to such a risk.
I mean to go to the city myself, and read them to some of the leading
publishers. I don't want to pledge myself to any one of them. I should
like to set them bidding against each other for the copyright, if I sell
it at all."

Mr. Gridley gazed upon the innocent youth with a sweet wonder in his eyes
that made him look like an angel, a little damaged in the features by
time, but full of celestial feelings.

"It will cost you something to make this trip, Gifted. Have you the
means to pay for your journey and your stay at a city hotel?"

Gifted blushed. "My mother has laid by a small sum for me," he said.
"She knows some of my poems by heart, and she wants to see them all in
print."

Master Gridley closed his eyes very firmly again, as if thinking, and
opened them as soon as the foolish film had left them. He had read many
a page of "Thoughts on the Universe" to his own old mother, long, long
years ago, and she had often listened with tears of modest pride that
Heaven had favored her with a son so full of genius.

"I 'll tell you what, Gifted," he said. "I have been thinking for a good
while that I would make a visit to the city, and