be established to bring in a comfortable income....

I left the chair and walked up and down the cramped room until the
lodger below rapped spitefully on his ceiling. I went to the bathroom
and washed my hands. I came back and inspected my teeth in the mirror.
Then I resumed my seat and wrote, "The Grass--" After a moment I crossed
this out and substituted, "Today, the grass--"

I decided the whole approach was unimaginative and unworthy of me. I
turned the paper over and began, "Like a dragon springing--" Good,
good--this was the way to start; it would show the readers at once they
were dealing with a man of imagination. "Like a dragon springing."
Springing from what? What did dragons spring from anyway? Eggs, like
snakes? Dragons were reptiles werent they? Or werent they? Give up the
metaphor? I set my teeth with determination and began again. "Not unlike
a fierce and belligerently furious dragon or some other ferocious,
blustery and furious chimerical creature, a menacing and comminatory
debacle is burning fierily in the heart of our fair and increasingly
populous city. As one with an innocent yet cardinal part in the
unleashing of this dire menace, I want to describe how the exposure of
this threatening menace affected me as I looked upon its menacing and
malevolent advance today...."

I sat back, not dissatisfied with my beginning, and thought about the
neat little bachelor apartment I could rent on what the _Intelligencer_
was paying me. Of course in a few days this hullabaloo would be all
over--for though I had little faith in the efficacy of the crudeoil I
knew really drastic measures would be taken soon and the whole business
stopped--but even in so short a time there could be no doubt Mr Le
ffacase would realize he needed me permanently on his staff and I would
be assured of a living in my own proper sphere. Thus fired with the
thoughts of accomplishment, I returned to my task, but I cannot say it
went easily. I remembered many great writers indulged in stimulants in
the throes of composition, but I decided such a course might blunt the
keen edge of my mind and afterall there was no better stimulant than
plain oldfashioned perseverance. I picked up the pencil again and
doggedly went on to the next sentence.

_16._ "What the hell's this?" demanded the cityeditor, looking at my
neatly rolled pile of manuscript.

I disdained to bandy words with an underling too lazy to make an effort
to get at what was pr