he thought promising. One of
them was a burlesque report of an egotistical lecturer who was referred
to as "Professor Personal Pronoun." It closed by stating that it was
"impossible to print his lecture in full, as the type-cases had run out
of capital I's." But it was the other sketch which settled Goodman's
decision. It was also a burlesque report, this time of a Fourth-of-July
oration. It opened, "I was sired by the Great American Eagle and foaled
by a continental dam." This was followed by a string of stock patriotic
phrases absurdly arranged. But it was the opening itself that won
Goodman's heart.

"That is the sort of thing we want," he said. "Write to him, Barstow,
and ask him if he wants to come up here."

Barstow wrote, offering twenty-five dollars a week, a tempting sum. This
was at the end of July, 1862.

In 'Roughing It' we are led to believe that the author regarded this as a
gift from heaven and accepted it straightaway. As a matter of fact, he
fasted and prayed a good while over the "call." To Orion he wrote
Barstow has offered me the post as local reporter for the Enterprise at
$25 a week, and I have written him that I will let him know next mail, if
possible.

There was no desperate eagerness, you see, to break into literature, even
under those urgent conditions. It meant the surrender of all hope in the
mines, the confession of another failure. On August 7th he wrote again
to Orion. He had written to Barstow, he said, asking when they thought
he might be needed. He was playing for time to consider.

Now, I shall leave at midnight to-night, alone and on foot, for a walk of
60 or 70 miles through a totally uninhabited country, and it is barely
possible that mail facilities may prove infernally "slow." But do you
write Barstow that I have left here for a week or so, and in case he
should want me, he must write me here, or let me know through you.

So he had gone into the wilderness to fight out his battle alone. But
eight days later, when he had returned, there was still no decision. In
a letter to Pamela of this date he refers playfully to the discomforts of
his cabin and mentions a hope that he will spend the winter in San
Francisco; but there is no reference in it to any newspaper prospects
--nor to the mines, for that matter. Phillips, Howland, and Higbie would
seem to have given up by this time, and he was camping with Dan Twing and
a dog, a combination amusingly described. It is a pleasant en