t to attend with my grandmother, bi-monthly, an
early evening whist party at the house of an elderly neighbor. I had a
bad headache on one of these appointed evenings, and Walkirk, who was a
perfectly respectable and presentable man, went with my grandmother in
my stead. I afterward heard that he played an excellent hand at whist, a
remark which had never been made of me.

But I will not refer at present to any further instances of the
usefulness of my under-study, except to say that, as I found his feet
were of the same size and shape as my own, I sent him to be measured for
a pair of heavy walking-shoes which I needed; and I once arranged for
him to serve in my place on a coroner's jury, in the case of a drowned
infant.

The evening listenings still went on, and as the scope of my remarks
grew wider, and their purpose became better defined, it began to dawn
upon me that it was selfish to devote these accounts of remarkable
traveling experiences to the pleasure of only two men, myself and my
listener; the public would be interested in these things. I ought to
write a book.

This idea pleased me very much. As Walkirk was now able to take my place
in so many ways, I could give a good deal of time each day to
composition; and, moreover, there was no reason why such work should
interfere with my pleasure in being listened to. I could write by day,
and talk at night. It would be all the better for my book that I should
first orally deliver the matter to Walkirk, and afterward write it. I
broached this idea to Walkirk; but, while he did not say so in words, it
was plain to me he did not regard it with favor. He reflected a little
before speaking.

"The writing of a book," he said, "is a very serious thing; and although
it is not my province to advise you, I will say that if I were in your
place I should hesitate a good while before commencing a labor like
that. I have no doubt, judging from what I have already heard of your
travels, that you would make a most useful and enjoyable book, but the
question in my mind is, whether the pleasure you would give your readers
would repay you for the time and labor you would put upon this work."

This was the first time that Walkirk had offered me advice. I had no
idea of taking it, but I did not resent it.

"I do not look at the matter in that way," I said. "An absorbing labor
will be good for me. My undertaking may result in overworking you, for
you will be obliged to act as my