ire Ellis late in the afternoon of the day
after the Willard party. Fascinated, he had watched that expert
journalist go through page after page of copy, with what seemed
superhuman rapidity and address, distribute the finished product
variously upon hooks, boxes, and copy-boys, and, the immediate task
being finished, lapse upon his desk and fall asleep. Meantime, the owner
himself faced the unpleasant prospect of being smothered under the
downfall of proofs, queries, and scribbled sheets which descended upon
his desk from all sides. For a time he struggled manfully: for a time
thereafter he wallowed desperately. Then he sent out a far cry for help.
The cry smote upon the ear of McGuire Ellis, "Hoong!" ejaculated that
somnolent toiler, coming up out of deep waters. "Did you speak?"

"I want to know what I'm to do with all of these things," replied his
boss, indicating the augmenting drifts.

"Throw 'em on the floor, is _my_ advice," said the employee drowsily.
"The more stuff you throw away, the better paper you get out. That's a
proverb of the business."

"In other words, you think the paper would get along better without me
than with me?"

"But you're enjoying yourself, aren't you?" queried his employee.
Heaving himself out of his chair, he ambled over to Hal's desk and
evolved out of the chaos some semblance of order. "Don't find it as easy
as your enthusiasm painted it," he suggested.

"Oh, I've still got the enthusiasm. If only I knew where to begin."

Ellis rubbed his ear thoughtfully and remarked: "Once I knew a man from
Phoenix, Arizona, who was so excited the first time he saw the ocean
that he borrowed a uniform from an absent friend, shinned aboard a
five-thousand-ton brigantine, and ordered all hands to put out to sea
immediately in the teeth of a whooping gale. But he," added the narrator
in the judicial tone of one who cites mitigating circumstances, "was
drunk at the time."

"Thanks for the parallel. I don't like it. But never mind that. The
question is, What am I going to do?"

"That's the question all right. Are you putting it to me?"

"I am."

"Well, I was just going to put it to you."

"No use. I don't know."

The two men looked each other in the eye, long and steadily. Ellis's
harsh face relaxed to a sort of grin.

"You want me to tell you?"

"Yes."

"What do you think you're hiring, a Professor of Journalism in the
infant class?" The tone of the question offset any apparent ill-n