room, 'all things come to the man who knows how to wait. But I'm
hanged if I expected a thing of this kind to come so soon! Why, I'm a
man of distinction! My doings have been noted; the admirable qualities
of my style have drawn attention; I'm looked upon as one of the coming
men! Thanks, I confess, in some measure, to old Barlow; he seems to have
amused himself with cracking me up to all and sundry. That last thing
of mine in The West End has done me a vast amount of good, it seems. And
Alfred Yule himself had noticed that paper in The Wayside. That's how
things work, you know; reputation comes with a burst, just when you're
not looking for anything of the kind.'

'What's the new magazine to be called?' asked Amy.

'Why, they propose The Current. Not bad, in a way; though you imagine
a fellow saying "Have you seen the current Current?" At all events, the
tone is to be up to date, and the articles are to be short; no padding,
merum sal from cover to cover. What do you think I have undertaken to
do, for a start? A paper consisting of sketches of typical readers of
each of the principal daily and weekly papers. A deuced good idea, you
know--my own, of course--but deucedly hard to carry out. I shall rise
to the occasion, see if I don't. I'll rival Fadge himself in
maliciousness--though I must confess I discovered no particular malice
in the fellow's way of talking. The article shall make a sensation. I'll
spend a whole month on it, and make it a perfect piece of satire.'

'Now that's the kind of thing that inspires me with awe and envy,'
said Reardon. 'I could no more write such a paper than an article on
Fluxions.'

''Tis my vocation, Hal! You might think I hadn't experience enough,
to begin with. But my intuition is so strong that I can make a little
experience go an immense way. Most people would imagine I had been
wasting my time these last few years, just sauntering about, reading
nothing but periodicals, making acquaintance with loafers of every
description. The truth is, I have been collecting ideas, and ideas
that are convertible into coin of the realm, my boy; I have the special
faculty of an extempore writer. Never in my life shall I do anything of
solid literary value; I shall always despise the people I write for. But
my path will be that of success. I have always said it, and now I'm sure
of it.'

'Does Fadge retire from The Study, then?' inquired Reardon, when he had
received this tirade with a friendly