h,' remarked Jasper, 'and the kind of rubbish--oddly
enough--which doesn't attract people.'

'Precisely, but the rubbish is capable of being made a very valuable
article, if it were only handled properly. I have talked to the people
about it again and again, but I can't get them to believe what I say.
Now just listen to my notion. In the first place, I should slightly
alter the name; only slightly, but that little alteration would in
itself have an enormous effect. Instead of Chat I should call it
Chit-Chat!'

Jasper exploded with mirth.

'That's brilliant!' he cried. 'A stroke of genius!'

'Are you serious? Or are you making fun of me? I believe it is a stroke
of genius. Chat doesn't attract anyone, but Chit-Chat would sell like
hot cakes, as they say in America. I know I am right; laugh as you
will.'

'On the same principle,' cried Jasper, 'if The Tatler were changed to
Tittle-Tattle, its circulation would be trebled.'

Whelpdale smote his knee in delight.

'An admirable idea! Many a true word uttered in joke, and this is an
instance! Tittle-Tattle--a magnificent title; the very thing to catch
the multitude.'

Dora was joining in the merriment, and for a minute or two nothing but
bursts of laughter could be heard.

'Now do let me go on,' implored the man of projects, when the noise
subsided. 'That's only one change, though a most important one. What
I next propose is this:--I know you will laugh again, but I will
demonstrate to you that I am right. No article in the paper is to
measure more than two inches in length, and every inch must be broken
into at least two paragraphs.'

'Superb!'

'But you are joking, Mr Whelpdale!' exclaimed Dora.

'No, I am perfectly serious. Let me explain my principle. I would have
the paper address itself to the quarter-educated; that is to say, the
great new generation that is being turned out by the Board schools, the
young men and women who can just read, but are incapable of sustained
attention. People of this kind want something to occupy them in trains
and on 'buses and trams. As a rule they care for no newspapers except
the Sunday ones; what they want is the lightest and frothiest of
chit-chatty information--bits of stories, bits of description, bits of
scandal, bits of jokes, bits of statistics, bits of foolery. Am I not
right? Everything must be very short, two inches at the utmost; their
attention can't sustain itself beyond two inches. Even chat is too solid
fo