Butler citizen. [volume] (Butler, Pa.) 1877-1922, 1895-02-21
A LITERARY AGENT.
By O. h BURGIE.

she WAsnt 20 BlAme'-Sir: II you viii have
ths goodness 20 call on me ct my chambers,
you viii hear Of something 70 your advantage.
I an THEoyKILus BoDGKRs,
Literary Agent
Buncombe was very hard up, and,
therefore, anxious to hear of something
TO his advantage. He glanced at the
above letter, and called his factotum,
wilkins wilkins, you're up TO all
sorts Of lodges, aren't you2"
well, sir, knows a few" Wilkins
modestly replied. pea and thimble,
and three car"
mo, no; don't mean that. What
do you think of this letter."
Wilkins considered 1t sttentively. 81
think it's do, SIR"
"Why2"
when somebody you don't know,
sir, wants to do you q good turn for
nothing, sir, it's generally do. 1t
Arn't In human nature to do good to
strangers unless you help yourself at
the same time"
Buncombe took up the letter with
the intention of casting 1t into the fire.
~ don't know" he said, irresolutely.
I'm hard up-suppose / go down and
see the fellow. There might be copy
In It."
Il was q chill October afternoon-the
kind of afternoon In which a rising
young author does not usually care to
Leave the certain good of comfortable
Gre for the doubtful benefits likely to
accrue from an interview with un-
known philanthropists.
The very lack Of pretension in the
word dodgers" stimulated Buncombe's
curiosity. An imposter would have
sought cover under a more grandiose
appellation. But Dodgers sounded
bluff and burly, British and believable.
Buncombe put on his hat, called a ham
som-he could afford hansoms now
and departed In quest Of the unknown
Dodgers.
A small boy in the ante-room of Bod
gers said that he "b'lieved" Mr.. Bod
gers was In.
go and find out for certain" said
Buncombe, giving the boy card.
The boy left him in the quiet, COM
fortably furnished ante-room, an ante
room which was absolutely colorless as
regarded any clew TO It's owners dispo-
sition or taste. He might have been
either barrister or baronet, quack
or Quakeri and Buncombe, as he gazed
round, felt an increased respect for
Dodgers, owing to his having such Q
non-committal kind Of apartment.
When he obtained admission to the
presence Of Dodgers, he found that
worthy seated comfortably before the
Gre, reading book.
''How do you do9" said Bodgers, af-
fAbly One was pale, thin man of fifty,
with the care-worn countenance of q
sub-editor, and q costume which was
moro horid than q sub-editor's ever has
. chance Of becoming). "How do you
do7 Have . cigar2"
Thanks, no." said Buncombe, with
the hauteur of one of his own heroes.
'T-eh-don't smoke dubious cigars at
the expense Of unknown philanthro-
pists."
More fool you," said Dodgers. cheer
fully. IF you'd any sense, you'd have
taken my cigar-it's q good one-and
thus made sure Of having something at
any rate. Sit down, and we'll talk"
Bumcombe sat down. There is
much In what you say. On second
thoughts, I'll have the cigar. Iknow
the brand"
Bodgers gazed at him admiringly.
'Ahi always felt sure you'd get on
patent-lesther boots, gold-rimmed eye
glass, overcost lined with fur, diamond
ring cutting through your glove, and
new top-hat every month. That's
about your style. Why, you must be
making two Thousand q year?"
Would you like to see my pass
book?" asked Buncombe. Your tobac-
cos better than your manners"
"Ohl that's all right" said Dodgers,
cheerfully. That's all right, Mr.. Bun
combe. I'm only going back few
years-to the time when you used to do
fve-shilling stories for the Family
Lucky Tub, which was sub-editiur"
'Ohl you were sab editor2" asked,
Buncombe, curiously. "D'you know,
Dodgers. II could have got at you in
those days, / should have murdered
you, and cast your inlty, sub-editorial
corpse into the river?"
"Ohl yes" said Dodgers, brightly.
want another light? I've often seen
you 60 away with FIVE shillings in your
hand, and murder in your heart. had
little peephole high up In the Office
wall. You weren't SO we'll dressed
then. Mr.. Buncombe."
''No," said Buncombe, shortly; 81
wasn't. When I think of those days,
and how l starved and worked. and
the life led, and how you trampled
on me, feel that nothing can make up
for It,"
what nonsensew returned Dodgers,
cheerfully. Twas the making of
you, man. Survival Of the flttest. II
you're not At you don't survive; and
that's all there is TO be said In the mat
ter. Don't you think you owe me an
apology for coming there and haunting
me with your miserable face? | only
used to get three-and-six a story, half
a-crown for editing the whole number,
and had to pay sixpence to contrib
utors for every misspelt word they
found when the Lucky Tub came out. |
Your pay was princoly compared with
mine"
WED better drop the subject" said |
Buncombe, shortly. 81 suppose one |
man has the right TO starve another, II
be can do II, but the starved man
doesn't see It, somehow"
"It's really doing him favor, II we |
would look at II in the right light"
said Dodgers, with the cheeriness born |
Of success; but ! didn't ask you to |
come here to discuss that. I'm rich |
man, now, and moan to be richer. I've !
hit upon n new thing, and want you to |
help me-"
How much2"
Halves. Myi how you have got on" /
said BodRers, admiringly. You're !
twice the man Of business you were |
when you used to come to the slics-of- |
pudding shop to dine"
''How do you know that?"
''Oh, used to dine there, too" said |
Bodgers, until | married the propri /
etor's daughter. I've often heard you
swearing at me under your breath as
you bolted your slice of pudding, and .
couldn't afford another" !
tThis IL CyrCwiu0 uurJleaSantn - said