ddenly found myself outside the shop of a publisher to whom I
had vainly applied some time before, in the hope of selling some of my
writings. As I looked listlessly at the window, I observed a paper
affixed to the glass, on which was written in a fair round hand, "A
Novel or Tale is much wanted." I at once resolved to go to work to
produce what was thus solicited. But what should the tale be about?
After cogitating at my lodging, with bread and water before me, I
concluded that I would write an entirely fictitious narrative called
"The Life and Adventures of Joseph Sell, the Great Traveller." This
Joseph Sell was an imaginary personage who had come into my head.

I seized pen and paper, but soon gave up the task of outlining the
story, for the scenes flitted in bewildering fashion before my
imagination. Yet, before morning, as I lay long awake, I had sketched
the whole work on the tablets of my mind. Next day I partook of bread
and water, and before night had completed pages of Joseph Sell, and
added pages in varying quantity day by day, until my enterprise was
finished.

"To-morrow for the bookseller! Oh, me!" I exclaimed, as I lay down to
rest.

On arriving at the shop, I saw to my delight that the paper was still in
the window. As I entered, a ladylike woman of about thirty came from the
back parlour to ask my business. After my explanation, she requested me,
as her husband was out, to leave the MS. with her, and to call again the
next day at eleven. At that hour I duly appeared, and was greeted with a
cordial reception. "I think your book will do," said the bookseller.
After some negotiation, I was paid L20 on the spot, and departed with a
light heart. Reader, amidst life's difficulties, should you ever be
tempted to despair, call to mind these experiences of Lavengro. There
are few positions, however difficult, from which dogged resolution and
perseverance will not liberate you.

I had long determined to leave London, as my health had become much
impaired. My preparations were soon made, and I set out to travel on
foot. In about two hours I had cleared the great city, and was in a
broad and excellent road, leading I knew not whither. In the evening,
feeling weary, I thought of putting up at an inn, but was induced to
take a seat in a coach, paying sixteen shillings for the fare. At dawn
of day I was roused from a broken slumber and bidden to alight, and
found myself close to a moorland. Walking on and on, I at