private room. "I have a note of introduction here from one
of your authors, as I think he called himself, a very popular writer for
whom you publish."

The publisher rose and came forward in the most cordial and respectful
manner. "Mr. Gridley? Professor Byles Gridley,--author of 'Thoughts on
the Universe'?"

The brave-hearted old man colored as if he had been a young girl. His
dead book rose before him like an apparition. He groped in modest
confusion for an answer. "A child I buried long ago, my dear sir," he
said. "Its title-page was its tombstone. I have brought this young
friend with me,--this is Mr. Gifted Hopkins of Oxbow Village,--who wishes
to converse with you about--"

"I have come, sir--" the young poet began, interrupting him.

"Let me look at your manuscript, if you please, Mr. Popkins," said the
publisher, interrupting in his turn.

"Hopkins, if you please, sir," Gifted suggested mildly, proceeding to
extract the manuscript, which had got wedged into his pocket, and seemed
to be holding on with all its might. He was wondering all the time over
the extraordinary clairvoyance of the publisher, who had looked through
so many thick folds, broadcloth, lining, brown paper, and seen his poems
lying hidden in his breast-pocket. The idea that a young person coming
on such an errand should have to explain his intentions would have seemed
very odd to the publisher. He knew the look which belongs to this class
of enthusiasts just as a horse-dealer knows the look of a green purchaser
with the equine fever raging in his veins. If a young author had come to
him with a scrap of manuscript hidden in his boots, like Major Andre's
papers, the publisher would have taken one glance at him and said, "Out
with it!"

While he was battling for the refractory scroll with his pocket, which
turned half wrong side out, and acted as things always do when people are
nervous and in a hurry, the publisher directed his conversation again to
Master Byles Gridley.

"A remarkable book, that of yours, Mr. Gridley, would have a great run if
it were well handled. Came out twenty years too soon,--that was the
trouble. One of our leading scholars was speaking of it to me the other
day. 'We must have a new edition,' he said; people are just ripe for
that book.' Did you ever think of that? Change the form of it a little,
and give it a new title, and it will be a popular book. Five thousand or
more, very likely."

Mr. Gri