n advance on the
new popular edition of "The Vital Thing." He had determined to drop a
course of supplementary lectures at the University, and to give himself
up for a year to his book. To do this, additional funds were necessary;
but thanks to "The Vital Thing" they would be forthcoming.

The publisher received him as cordially as usual; but the response to
his demand was not as prompt as his previous experience had entitled
him to expect.

"Of course we'll be glad to do what we can for you, Linyard; but the
fact is, we've decided to give up the idea of the new edition for the
present."

"You've given up the new edition?"

"Why, yes--we've done pretty well by 'The Vital Thing,' and we're
inclined to think it's _your_ turn to do something for it now."

The Professor looked at him blankly. "What can I do for it?" he
asked--"what _more_" his accent added.

"Why, put a little new life in it by writing something else. The secret
of perpetual motion hasn't yet been discovered, you know, and it's one
of the laws of literature that books which start with a rush are apt to
slow down sooner than the crawlers. We've kept 'The Vital Thing' going
for eighteen months--but, hang it, it ain't so vital any more. We
simply couldn't see our way to a new edition. Oh, I don't say it's dead
yet--but it's moribund, and you're the only man who can resuscitate it."

The Professor continued to stare. "I--what can I do about it?" he
stammered.

"Do? Why write another like it--go it one better: you know the trick.
The public isn't tired of you by any means; but you want to make
yourself heard again before anybody else cuts in. Write another
book--write two, and we'll sell them in sets in a box: The Vital Thing
Series. That will take tremendously in the holidays. Try and let us
have a new volume by October--I'll be glad to give you a big advance if
you'll sign a contract on that."

The Professor sat silent: there was too cruel an irony in the
coincidence.

Harviss looked up at him in surprise.

"Well, what's the matter with taking my advice--you're not going out of
literature, are you?"

The Professor rose from his chair. "No--I'm going into it," he said
simply.

"Going into it?"

"I'm going to write a real book--a serious one."

"Good Lord! Most people think 'The Vital Thing' 's serious."

"Yes--but I mean something different."

"In your old line--beetles and so forth?"

"Yes," said the Professor solemnly.

Harviss look