in person, but in manner and goodness of heart. It was Miss
Florence Marryat, then editress of _London Society_, who gave me my
first commission, and I am more anxious to record the fact because I am
aware that many a youthful journalist besides myself owed his first
introduction to the public to the sympathy and enterprise of this
accomplished lady. Perhaps I have less to grumble at personally than
most others concerning the treatment which, as a young man, I
experienced at the hands of editors; but I must say that the majority of
such potentates with whom I then came in contact lamentably lacked that
readiness to welcome new-comers which Miss Florence Marryat notably, and
possibly too readily, evinced. Here I may offer a hint to
beginners--that on coming to London letters of introduction are of
little or no value. One such letter I possessed, and it led me into
more trouble, and was the means of my losing more time, than I should
ever have received recompense for, even if it had obtained me the work
which it was intended to bring me.

In the first place, these letters often get into the hands of others
than the particular individuals to whom they are addressed. In my case
the letter had been inadvertently directed to the literary editor
instead of to the art editor of one of the largest publishing firms, and
that gentleman--I refer to the literary editor--was good enough to
supply me with a quantity of work. I executed the commission, but, lo
and behold! when I sent the work in, the monster Red Tape intervened in
the person of the art editor, who became scarlet with rage because he
had not been invoked instead of his colleague, and promptly repudiated
the entire contract. Thereupon the literary editor wrote to me saying
that unless I withdrew my contributions he would be personally out of
pocket; and it may not be uninteresting to record that some day, when I
strip this amongst my other mummies, it will be found that he
subsequently became a wearer of lawn sleeves. Thus, whilst the two
editors quarrelled between themselves, I was left out in the cold, and
became a considerable loser over the transaction.

_A propos_ of letters of introduction, I am reminded of a brother
artist, who, although a caricaturist, was entirely devoid of guile, and,
in addition, was as absent-minded as the popularly-accepted type of
ardent scientist or professor of ultra-abstruse subject. Well, this
curious species of satirist was setting fo