New Grub Street [35]
a fellow saying "Have you seen the current Current?" At all events, the tone is to be up to date, and the articles are to be short; no padding, merum sal from cover to cover. What do you think I have undertaken to do, for a start? A paper consisting of sketches of typical readers of each of the principal daily and weekly papers. A deuced good idea, you know--my own, of course -- but deucedly hard to carry out. I shall rise to the occasion, see if I don't. I'll rival Fadge himself in maliciousness--though I must confess I discovered no particular malice in the fellow's way of talking. The article shall make a sensation. I'll spend a whole month on it, and make it a perfect piece of satire.'
'Now that's the kind of thing that inspires me with awe and envy,' said Reardon. 'I could no more write such a paper than an article on Fluxions.'
''Tis my vocation, Hal! You might think I hadn't experience enough, to begin with. But my intuition is so strong that I can make a little experience go an immense way. Most people would imagine I had been wasting my time these last few years, just sauntering about, reading nothing but periodicals, making acquaintance with loafers of every description. The truth is, I have been collecting ideas, and ideas that are convertible into coin of the realm, my boy; I have the special faculty of an extempore writer. Never in my life shall I do anything of solid literary value; I shall always despise the people I write for. But my path will be that of success. I have always said it, and now I'm sure of it.'
'Does Fadge retire from The Study, then?' inquired Reardon, when he had received this tirade with a friendly laugh.
'Yes, he does. Was going to, it seems, in any case. Of course I heard nothing about the two reviews, and I was almost afraid to smile whilst Fadge was talking with me, lest I should betray my thought. Did you know anything about the fellow before?'
'Not I. Didn't know who edited The Study.'
'Nor I either. Remarkable what a number of illustrious obscure are going about. But I have still something else to tell you. I'm going to set my sisters afloat in literature.'
'How!'
'Well, I don't see why they shouldn't try their hands at a little writing, instead of giving lessons, which doesn't suit them a bit. Last night, when I got back from Wimbledon, I went to look up Davies. Perhaps you don't remember my mentioning him; a fellow who was at Jolly and Monk's, the publishers, up to a year ago. He edits a trade journal now, and I see very little of him. However, I found him at home, and had a long practical talk with him. I wanted to find out the state of the market as to such wares as Jolly and Monk dispose of. He gave me some very useful hints, and the result was that I went off this morning and saw Monk himself --no Jolly exists at present. "Mr Monk," I began, in my blandest tone--you know it--"I am requested to call upon you by a lady who thinks of preparing a little volume to be called 'A Child's History of the English Parliament.' Her idea is, that"--and so on. Well, I got on admirably with Monk, especially when he learnt that I was to be connected with Culpepper's new venture; he smiled upon the project, and said he should be very glad to see a specimen chapter; if that pleased him, we could then discuss terms.'
'But has one of your sisters really begun such a book?' inquired Amy.
'Neither of them knows anything of the matter, but they are certainly capable of doing the kind of thing I have in mind, which will consist largely of anecdotes of prominent statesmen. I myself shall write the specimen chapter, and send it to the girls to show them what I propose. I shouldn't wonder if they make some fifty pounds out of it. The few books that will be necessary they can either get at a Wattleborough library, or I can send them.'
'Your energy is remarkable, all of a sudden,' said Reardon.
'Yes. The hour has come, I find. "There is a tide"--to quote something that has the charm of freshness.'
The supper--which consisted of bread and butter, cheese, sardines,
'Now that's the kind of thing that inspires me with awe and envy,' said Reardon. 'I could no more write such a paper than an article on Fluxions.'
''Tis my vocation, Hal! You might think I hadn't experience enough, to begin with. But my intuition is so strong that I can make a little experience go an immense way. Most people would imagine I had been wasting my time these last few years, just sauntering about, reading nothing but periodicals, making acquaintance with loafers of every description. The truth is, I have been collecting ideas, and ideas that are convertible into coin of the realm, my boy; I have the special faculty of an extempore writer. Never in my life shall I do anything of solid literary value; I shall always despise the people I write for. But my path will be that of success. I have always said it, and now I'm sure of it.'
'Does Fadge retire from The Study, then?' inquired Reardon, when he had received this tirade with a friendly laugh.
'Yes, he does. Was going to, it seems, in any case. Of course I heard nothing about the two reviews, and I was almost afraid to smile whilst Fadge was talking with me, lest I should betray my thought. Did you know anything about the fellow before?'
'Not I. Didn't know who edited The Study.'
'Nor I either. Remarkable what a number of illustrious obscure are going about. But I have still something else to tell you. I'm going to set my sisters afloat in literature.'
'How!'
'Well, I don't see why they shouldn't try their hands at a little writing, instead of giving lessons, which doesn't suit them a bit. Last night, when I got back from Wimbledon, I went to look up Davies. Perhaps you don't remember my mentioning him; a fellow who was at Jolly and Monk's, the publishers, up to a year ago. He edits a trade journal now, and I see very little of him. However, I found him at home, and had a long practical talk with him. I wanted to find out the state of the market as to such wares as Jolly and Monk dispose of. He gave me some very useful hints, and the result was that I went off this morning and saw Monk himself --no Jolly exists at present. "Mr Monk," I began, in my blandest tone--you know it--"I am requested to call upon you by a lady who thinks of preparing a little volume to be called 'A Child's History of the English Parliament.' Her idea is, that"--and so on. Well, I got on admirably with Monk, especially when he learnt that I was to be connected with Culpepper's new venture; he smiled upon the project, and said he should be very glad to see a specimen chapter; if that pleased him, we could then discuss terms.'
'But has one of your sisters really begun such a book?' inquired Amy.
'Neither of them knows anything of the matter, but they are certainly capable of doing the kind of thing I have in mind, which will consist largely of anecdotes of prominent statesmen. I myself shall write the specimen chapter, and send it to the girls to show them what I propose. I shouldn't wonder if they make some fifty pounds out of it. The few books that will be necessary they can either get at a Wattleborough library, or I can send them.'
'Your energy is remarkable, all of a sudden,' said Reardon.
'Yes. The hour has come, I find. "There is a tide"--to quote something that has the charm of freshness.'
The supper--which consisted of bread and butter, cheese, sardines,