too omits the
description of a lot of exactly such adventures, as being, like the
darkey's imprisonments for stealing, "not worf mentionin'"--and confess I
felt great regret that he did so; for there is always a great deal of
local and temporal colour in anything whose proper _finale_ should be in
a police-court.

Hawthorne used to stay at Bixby's. He was a moody man, who sat by the
stove and spoke to no one. Bixby had been a publisher, and was proud
that he had first issued Hayward's "Faust" in America. He was also proud
that his hotel was much frequented by literary men and naval officers. He
was very kind to me. Once when I complained to the clerk that the price
of my rooms was too high, he replied, "Mr. Leland, the prices of all the
rooms in the house, excepting yours, were raised long ago, and Mr. Bixby
charged me strictly _not to let you know it_." Uncle Daniel was a
gentleman, and belonged to my club--the Century. When he grew older he
lived on an annuity, and was a great and privileged favourite among
actresses and singers. Thirty years later I called with him in New York
on Ada Cavendish.

After a fortnight or so, Dr. Griswold began to be very erratic. He had a
divorce case going on in Philadelphia. He went off, assuring me that
everything was in order, and never returned. The foreman came to me
saying that there was no copy, and nothing ready, and everything needed.
Here was indeed a pretty kettle of fish! For I at that time absolutely
distrusted my own ability to do all the work. I flew to Kimball, who
said, "Just put it through by strong will, and you'll succeed."

Then I went to Mr. Barnum--Uncle Barnum--who was always "as good as gold"
to me. I burst out into a statement of my griefs, mentioning
incidentally that I really could not go on as full editor, and do such
fearful work on the salary of an office-boy. He listened to it all, I am
sure with amusement, and placing his hand kindly on my shoulder as we
walked up and down the hall of the Museum, said, "You _sha'n't_ go. Don't
get into a funk. I know that you can do the work, and do it _well_. And
the salary shall be doubled--certainly!"

So the paper was brought out after all. I had great trouble for some
time to learn to write editorials. I used to go to the office of a
Sunday morn, and sit sometimes from ten till two turning over the
exchanges, and seeking for ideas. It was a dreadful ordeal. In fact, in
after times it was sev