e in the office receiving our instructions. Curtis, after going over
some books, handed to Quentin a vellum-covered volume of poems, saying
with a grim smile: "There are some more laurels for you to hash."

'An expression of pain spread over Quentin's serene features.

'"I'll see what I can do," he said wearily. But his curious manner
struck both Curtis and myself. The book was a collection of very
indifferent verse which already enjoyed a wide popularity. I cannot tell
you the title, for that is a secret not my own. It was early work of one
of our most esteemed poets who for some time was regarded by _his
friends_ as the natural successor to Mr. Alfred Austin. The "Acropolis"
had not spoken. We were sometimes behindhand in our reviews. The public
waited to learn if the new poet was really worth anything. You may
imagine the general surprise when a week afterwards there appeared a
flamingly favourable review of the poems. It made a perfect sensation
and was quoted largely. The public became quite conceited with its
foresight. The reputation of the poet was assured. "Snarley-ow must be
dead," some one remarked in my hearing at the club, and members tried to
pump me. One day a telegram came from Curtis asking me to go down to his
house at once. A request from him was a command. I found him in a state
of some excitement, his manner a little artificial. "My dear Rivers, I
suppose you think me mad. The geese have got into the Capitol at last."
Without correcting his classical allusion, I said: "Where is Burrage?"
"He is coming here presently. Of course, I glanced at the thing in
proof, and thought it a splendid joke, but reading it this morning, I
have come to the conclusion that something is wrong with Burrage. You
remember his agitated manner the other day?" I was about to reply, when
Burrage was announced. His haggard and pale appearance startled both of
us. "My dear Burrage, what _is_ the matter with you?" we exclaimed
simultaneously. He gave a sickly nervous smile. "Of course you have
sent to ask me about that review. Well, I have changed my opinions, I
have altered. I think we should praise everything or ignore everything.
To slate a book, good or bad, is taking the bread out of a fellow's
mouth. I have been the chief sinner in this way, and I am going to be
the first reformer." "Not in my paper," said Curtis, angrily.

'Then we all fell to discussing that old question with all the warmth