so repeated a failure that even a cool compliment was warm to him. His
wife accepted the daughter's judgment. It is possible that she saw a
vision of new gowns and a better house.

One evening, after welcoming Milford into his workshop, the scholar
declared himself on the verge of a great success. He was arrayed in an
old dressing-gown, with a rope tied monkishly about his loins. His
fingers were stained with ink, "the waste juice of thought," he said. "I
should now be the happiest of men, and I am, but, my dear boy, it is not
nearly so easy as I expected. I find that I cannot cut, slash, and
piece; I must absorb and write, and what I thought could be done in a
few weeks, will take months to perform. At first I thought it would be
well to enter into correspondence with the publishers, but I put it off
till now I have decided to surprise them with the work itself. Ah, work,
work, true balm to the restless soul! I was never really happy until I
took up this brightening task; I was never so serious; I was never
before able to understand the necessity of my previous training, my
struggles and disappointments. But now all is clear. How is everything
with you?"

"All right. Everything over my way is as neat as----"

"A new gold dollar," suggested the Professor.

"Yes, and my house is as comfortable as a fur-lined nest."

"And at a time, too, when you are thinking about giving it up."

"That's so. But I've got to go out West to see a man, and then I may
return to this neighborhood."

"Are you going to take any one with you on your trip?"

"No, I'm going alone."

"On important business, I presume?"

"Very; so important that all my work here has been toward that end. How
long before you'll have this thing done?"

"I am working toward an end," the Professor said, smiling, "but I cannot
work toward a date. But, to approximate, I should think about the middle
of March."

"Don't know but I bother you, coming over so often."

"My dear boy, you help me. You are a constant encouragement. Ah, you are
a double encouragement, for you encourage them." He pointed downward.
"And that is the greatest good you could do me."

They talked a long time about the book, the sure winner, and as Milford
was taking his leave, the Professor followed him to the head of the
stairway. "My dear boy," he said, putting his hand on his visitor's
shoulder, "you must at last perceive that I am earnest."

"I know it."

"I hope you believe so