that he should be the fortunate man j cannot tell you how vain i walked the streets my ha d was in the clouds i felt the airs of about it and fancied it a of as i by h of j would be among tl h sa d of the day and my on or cut on wa m f with time of and and fi the poor devil author when i applied at the s house there was something in the of my air and the of my dress that struck the clerks with reverence they doubtless me for some person of consequence probably a of greek roots or a of a proud man in a dirty shirt is always an imposing character in the world of letters one must feel secure before he can venture to dress none mi a great genius or a great scholar dares to be dirty so i was ushered at once to the of this high priest of � the of books is a very different affair nowadays from what it was in the time of i found the a dressed man in an el ant furnished with and portraits of celebrated authors and cases of splendidly bound books he was writing letters at an elegant table this was business in sl le the place suited to the f that issued from it i rejoiced at the the poor choice i had made of a for i always liked to encourage men of taste and spirit i stepped up to the table with the lofty poetical port that i had been accustomed to maintain in our village circle though i threw in it something of a air such as one feels when about to make a man s fortune the paused with his pen in his hand and seemed waiting in mute suspense to know what was to be announced by so singular n apparition i put him at his ease in a moment for i felt that i had but to come see and conquer i made known my name and the name of my poem produced my precious roll of blotted manuscript laid it on the table with an emphasis and told him at once to save time and come directly to the point the price was one thousand guineas i had given him no time to speak nor did he seem so inclined he continued looking at me for a moment with an air of perplexity me from head to foot looked i p the poor devil author down at the manuscript then up again at me then pointed to a chair and whistling softly to himself went on writing his letter i sat for some time waiting his reply supposing he was making up his mind but he only paused occasionally to take a fresh dip of ink to stroke his chin or the tip of his nose and then resumed his writing it was evident his mind was intently occupied upon some other subject but i had no idea that any other subject should be attended to and my poem lie unnoticed on the table i had supposed that every thing would make way for the pleasures of melancholy my at length rose within me i took up my manuscript thrust it into my pocket and walked out of the room making some noise as i went out to let my departure be heard the however was much buried in minor concerns to notice it i was suffered to walk down stairs without being called back i forth into the street but no clerk was after me nor did the call after the poor devil author me from the drawing room window i have been told since that he considered me either a madman or a fool i leave you to judge how much he was in the wrong in his opinion when i turned the comer my crest fell i cooled down in my pride and my expectations and reduced my terms with the next to whom i applied i had no better success with a third nor with a fourth i then desired the to make an offer themselves but the deuce an offer would they make they told me poetry was a mere every body wrote poetry the market was with it and then they said the title of my poem was not taking that pleasures of all kinds were w nothing but horrors did nowadays and even those were almost worn out tales of robbers and bloody might answer tolerably well but then they must come from some established well known name or the public would not look at them at last i offered to leave my poem with a to read it and judge for himself p the poor devil author why really my dear mr a� a � i forget your name said he casting an eye at my rusty coat and shabby really sir we are so pressed with business just now and have so many on hand to read that we have not time to look at any new productions but if you can call again in a week or two or say the middle of next month we may be able to look over your writings and give you an answer don t forget the month after next good morning sir happy to see you any time you are passing this way so saying he bowed me out in the way imaginable in short sir instead of an eager competition to secure my poem i could not even get it read in the mean time i was harassed by letters from my friends wanting to know when the work was to appear who was to be my but above b things warning me not to let it go too cheap there was but one alternative left i determined to the poem myself and to have my triumph over 