next day young Bansted Downs called at the address given, and
was shown into the presence of Power senior, a man of venerable
appearance, whose high broad forehead, far-away gaze, long hair, and
abstraction sufficiently revealed his calling.

"It will be fifty pounds--twenty-five down, and the rest in monthly
instalments of one pound after you have got your H.A.W.," said the
Master Genius.

"If you please, what is my H.A.W.?" asked young Bansted Downs.

"Your final degree--your Head Above Water."

"That will not be just yet?" asked the youth.

"Oh, dear, no! Not for a very long while, if ever. There are two
preliminary degrees to get before that. There are the F.I. and the
E.P.--your Foot In and your Ear of the Public; and before you can obtain
either of these you will have to Make your Mark."

"I can sign my name--will not that do as well?" asked the youth.

[Illustration: "THE MASTER GENIUS."]

"That entirely depends upon the sort of name. If it's just a surname
with a coronet over it, it entitles you to your F.I. and your E.P.
without any examination. You have the same advantage if you can append
to your signature either of the following affixes: P.P. (Pertinacious
Pusher) or C.I. (Chum of the Influential).

"But if you can't sign these kinds of names, you will have to Make your
Mark. It's a difficult mark, and requires a lot of learning.

"As the first instalment of twenty-five pounds down is all I am ever
likely to get, I will take it now--no, that one won't do; it's a
peppermint-drop, not a sovereign. _That's_ not the way to get on, young
man!"

"Isn't it?" asked young Bansted Downs thoughtfully. "I'm glad you told
me. I thought perhaps it might be; but, of course, I've got to learn."

That very week young Bansted Downs commenced his studies under the
Master Genius. He found he had a very great deal to learn.

"The difference between talent and genius is that talent does what it
can and genius does what it must--you will find that in the poets," said
the Master Genius. "Consequently, to be a genius, you need not feel that
you have the _ability_ to do a thing, but only that it is _necessary_ to
do it. A house-painter is a specimen of genius: he has not the ability
to do his work; but he is compelled to do it in order to obtain the
means for his Saturday drinks. But, of course, that's only one kind of
genius. What we have to teach you first is to feel that you _must_ do
something transcendent--and the