t the writing-desk.

Hector Malot, the Parisian novelist, makes an outline of his romances
beforehand, faintly indicating all important incidents of his work. He
does not take stimulating drinks, either when at work or when at rest;
with him the work itself acts as a stimulant. He rises at five o'clock
in the morning, and writes till eleven. After breakfast he takes a walk.
At two o'clock in the afternoon he resumes work and keeps at it until
seven o'clock in the evening; but he never composes at night. Nine
months of the year are devoted to literary labor, but the remaining
three months he spends in travel, study, and recreation.

Victorien Sardou, the dramatist, writes his play twice; first on little
scraps of paper, then on foolscap. The first draft, when it is finished,
is a maze of alterations and delineations.

Mezerai, the famous historian, used to study and write by candle-light,
even at noonday in summer, and, as if there had been no sun in the
world, always waited upon his company to the door with a candle in his
hand.

"The method of Buckle, the historian," so says his biographer, "was
chiefly remarkable for careful, systematic industry, and punctilious
accuracy. His memory appeared to be almost faultless, yet he took as
much precaution against failure as if he dared not trust it. He
invariably read with "paper and pencil in his hand, making copious
references for future consideration. How laboriously this system was
acted upon can be appreciated only by those who have seen his
note-books, in which the passages so marked during his reading were
either copied or referred to under proper heads. Volume after volume was
thus filled, everything being written with the same precise neatness
that characterizes his manuscript for the press, and indexed with care,
so that immediate reference might be made to any topic. But, carefully
as these extracts and references were made, there was not a quotation in
one of the copious notes that accompanied his work that was not verified
by collation with the original from which it was taken."

Joaquin Miller says that he has always been so poor, or, rather, has had
so many depending on his work, that he has "never been able to indulge
the luxury of habits," and that he has worked in a sort of
"catch-as-catch-can" way. Having been mostly on the wing since he began
writing, he has done his work in all kinds of ways, and hours, and
houses. However, now, since he has a little h