The Arizona sentinel., 1886-08-07

make me believe you are not in sym pathy with them when you can write | like that ''
 "Can't, eh? Why, hate 'em. Tha was written to sell"
 Boning clasped his hands behind hi head and looked sorrowfully at oul mutual friend who had given utteranc' to this atrociouS sentiment. Then, sud denly remembering the business ir hand, he said: ''Well, as 1 was saying, I was lucky enough to come across g suggestive bit of East End romance-s veritable Whitechapel idyl."
 You'll come across plenty of idler; down there-lazy rascals."
 ''I have been studying the East End, , continued Boning, unheeding the inter ruption, ''and have got my Coster en- gagged to-
 ''To a Costeress, 1 suppose"
 Exactly. Nothing incongruous about that, is there? Well, the entrance into this new relation has inspired him with desire to-"
 "Boning," said my friend serenely, 'I can imagine nothing more calculated to enlist all mans nobler powers and put them in action with the object of elevating him in the social sphere than an engagement with a costermonger' s daughter. Go on Boning, you've opened new field in fiction"
 "Oh, you can't ridicule me away from my story. By the way, came across one of the best examples of the power of ridicule last night that it has ever been my luck to meet. You see," he added, turning to me, ''my theory in fiction is that it must be true to life. How is this to be attained? I think by man writing nothing but what he has personal experience with. It would be useless for me to locate a scene in America for I've never been there. The works of a man who writes of what he has no personal knowledge are, in my opinion, valueless. carry my theory to what many would consider ex- tremes. If my hero has to walk from St. Pancras station to Chelsea at twelve o'clock at night go to the station at midnight and take that walk myself. l note down my experiences, what is said to me, what incidents occur, and these I weave into the story. And that re- minds me, Arthur, did you ever go along Piccadilly at four in the morning, or say three?"
 "Never sober enough to notice any thing"
 "Well, it's wonderful. Imagine Pic cadilly crowded-not with carriages but with great bulky, top-heavy market wagons, and leaden-footed, hulking brutes of horses, moving slowly as if sleep-walking. Londoners don't know London. London at three in the morn ing is no more like London at noon than was the London of Sam Johnson. You must come with me some morning and see London Bridge at daybreak. Won derful sight The Pool like mirror only hour in the twenty-four it is so and the"
 ''In the name or all the prophets, Boning, what has all this to do with the power of ridicule?"
 I'm coming to that. Impatience al ways was a weakness of yours, Arthur. I was coming home about midnight, and just out of the Seven Dials fellow accosted me and wanted to sell me 8 watch! Think of selling me watchi Well, 1 talked with him, and finally on some excuse he wanted me to go home with him. We got into room that was worse than this. y
 s'NoMr'
 '1t was, I assure you. There was no bench. My gentleman places his back against the door, levels a pistol at my head and asks me to give him my purse
 ''Very funny situation, must say"
 Funny? Funniest experience I ever had. Didn't have brass farthing on me. I just dropped in the one chair and roared. He looked nonplussed, and the more he looked the more laughed. He seemed to realize he was making an ass of himself and he lowered his arm slowly like one of the railway signals that go up like flash and come down gradually. The look on his face was so comical that I roared the louder, and then the chair gave way and I rolled on the floor and lay helpless with laughter. I at last rose and dusted myself of. I slapped the dazed ruffian on the back and his pistol clattered on the floor out of his hand as I wished him better luck next time. That villain was simply stunned by the power of ridicule-felt he had made a fool of himself, By the way, will you listen to chapter or two of my story?"
 Certainly, but I wish you would finish the other one."
 That's impossible. You have no objections, MT. -, don't know that I quite caught your name?"
 ''No matter. I warned him. He'll stand it.
 The part of the story he read to us was really excellent-as good bit of fiction, in fact, 1 had ever heard, and MT. Boning read it well.
 As I went down the sta, Is Isaid to my friend:
 ''That story will make him famous"
 No it won't"
 'Don't you think it goodp thought it exceedingly fine. "
 'He never writes any thing but what is good. He is a man of undoubted genius, but he never finishes any thing. That is the trouble. He has never fin ished a story in his life, and he has be- gun hundreds"
 Perhaps he will finish this one, He seems very enthusiastic about it."
 My friend shook his<head.
 
 The day before I left London I hap pened to meet MT. Boning coming along the Strand. He shook hands, but evil dently did not remember me.
 '1 was up at your room one day with fr;o,oI
 "Oh, yes, yes. remember you per- fectly. Well, how are you getting onP"
 "First rate. How are you getting on?''