he manuscript of my new book came back this morning, the
one I've been working on for the last year. The expressman delivered it
just after you left. That started the day wrong. Then came a succession
of little things. Breakfast, with coffee stone-cold, and soggy rolls; I
couldn't swallow a mouthful. Afterward I cut myself shaving, and I was
late for lecture, and there was no styptic in the house, and I got down
to my class with a collar looking as though I'd had my throat cut. The
lecture room was chilly, beastly chilly, and about half the men had
colds. Every twentieth word I'd say some one would sneeze and interrupt.
On top of this one chap on the front row had neglected to complete his
toilet and sat there for half an hour manicuring his nails, every blessed
one of the ten; I counted them, while I was trying to explain proximal
principles. At noon we had some more of that abominable soup with carrots
in it. Carrots! I detest the name and the whole family; and we've had
them every day now for a week. After lunch another big thing. I'd applied
for position as lecturer in the summer school, applied early. The
president met me to-day and remarked casually, very casually, that the
man for the place had already been selected. He was very sorry of course,
but--Back at the department I found that Elrod, one of my assistants, was
sick, and of necessity I had to take his place in the laboratory. Inside
half an hour some bumpkin dropped an eight-ounce bottle of sulphuretted
hydrogen. It spattered everywhere--and the smell! I feel like holding my
nose yet. Later the water got stopped up, and for love or money no
plumber--" The speaker paused, his shoulders lifted eloquently. "But
what's the use of itemizing. It's been the same all day long, one petty
rasp after another. To cap the climax Elice is out of town. She's got an
English class in a high-school in a dinky little burg out about twenty
miles and goes out there every Thursday. I forgot this was the day until
I pulled the knocker. That's all, I guess, except that I'm here."

Roberts smiled, the deliberate smile of tolerant understanding.

"One of those days, wasn't it," he commented sympathetically.

"Yes," shortly, "and it seems lately as though that was the only kind I
had--seems as though it was not one but an endless succession.... It's
all so petty, so confoundedly petty and irritating, and the outlook for
the future seems so similar." Of a sudden the speaker arose, se