The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1886-08-18

animals. What hurt me most, how
ever, was the sudden quet-almost
chill-that would come over company
whenever / entered a parlor. | was
only five and twenty, and no more fond
than other young people of converse
ton that was not trifling; but now my
own old set of youths of both sexes
seemed to imagine that my mind was
continually soaring in the empyrean of
literature, so they would hold their
! tongues until some one-generally the
oldest, homeliest and most affected
damsel in the room-would engage me
in close conversation about Browning's
poetry, or some logical stickler recalled
! from Kames'" Elements of Criticism"
| am sure that after became known as
an author the girls in our set even
waltzed less gracefully with me than
with any other young man.
Then some critics began to pay me
attention-in print. While | was anony-
nous, suppose the book was beneath
notice, but now that everybody knew
who wrote it, and felt they could say
what they pleased without offending
any author about whom the world knew
anything, they had real good time in
vivisecting me and "The Smithton
SWANS" AS | knew what | would
have said about the book had l been a
reviewer, l carefully avoided the liter
airy columns of the newspapers. But
my friends did not; they carefully cut
out every scathing notice, and read
them all aloud to me, for fear | might
accidentally lay them aside unread.
About this time | had call from my
1. 4. l,oI IA.
the gospel many years with great sue
cess and small pay. Ben was twenty
times as wise as | he knew Greek and
Hebrew better than | knew English;
so when he heard that had written
successful book he hurried to New York
with half hundred poems which he
had hastily written.
You see, Charley he said, with
brotherly frankness, {" if people will
read with avidity so trif1ing a sketch as
yours, what will they not do to get such
volume as those poems will make?-
volume bearing on every page evil
dences of scholarship and earnest
thought. | think / ought to clear
enough to build house for myself, so
l need no longer be shifted from one
cottage TO another, according to the
condition of the parish purse"
| thought so, too, as read the poems.
The publishers thought differently; so
l guaranteed one of them against loss,
and had the book produced in good
style. But the publishers were right.
Ben's poems, although some critics
spoke highly of them, did not sell a
thousand copies, and / never was able
to fully persuade the dear old author
that | had not conspired with the pub
Usher to kill his book. Even when lent
Ben money enough to start the desired
house / believe my checks were re-
garded somewhat in the light of con-
. science money.
But whatever else happened, "The
Smithton SWANS" continued to sell
so people came slowly to tell one an.
other that | was making great deal OF
money. l learned this by the great in.
,, crease in the number of persons who
wanted to borrow money of me and
the large sums that were asked for, by
the variety of subscription papers that
were brought to me, and the number OF
,, business schemes with which enter.
prising fellows assailed me. l was also
.. "invited out" great deal by families
! which until then had barely noticed
= me. All this was embarrassing, for
: had no right, under the terms of m,
! contract with my publisher, to eXpec
= any money from my book for man,
months to come. How much | was re
puted to be worth / did not learn unit
j., | was called upon by lady member o
the church to which l belonged
: she was soliciting contributions to thu
: fund being raised by the congregation
= for the endowment of a professorshil
in theological seminary.
E " We have agreed, after consultation
! with our husbands" said the lady
+ " that as the older members have sus
y tanned the entire burden of building
the church, the younger men should b
urged to assume this new and specia
y duty. We have further resolved t.
f ask each young man to give one-tentl
4 of this years income, according to tn
> ancient custom of our denomination.
;. This was somewhat staggering, bu
as | knew that few months after tn
f years end l should receive large sur
d from my publisher, / hastily conclude
g the interview and promised to acced
r. to the fair petitioners request.
What splendid beginning!" eS
q claimed the lady. L" 1t is really true
W isn't it, Mr.. Smith, that fifty thousan
! copies of The Smithton SWANS hav
i been sold?"
" believe So"
: Dear me!' She penciled rapid
IS on the cover of her subscription boo
,r for a moment and then continued
n "Fifty thousand copies at dollar eac
,r come to $4,000, one-tenth of which
$4,000. Now, Mr.. Smith, if you wi
1t kindly add one-tenth of your salary
e that amount | will know exactly ho
|. much to write down as your subscril
# ton.
3. " But l have not offered you any pa
v of the income of my book" | gaspeC
r. " for have not received a penny of
W yet, and will not for at least half yea
,e l may never receive any. My publishC
IS may fall or l may die, or-somethin
y else may happen. Besides, do NJ
N get all the money which people pay fo
1t the books; l get but small percent
" age of it,"
Is My visitor arose, flushed and ev
/. IDENTITY angry
re "It is all simple enough, Mr.. Smith,
ID she said, showing the figuring on h,
10 book-cover. " Fifty thousand copie