"Sufficient unto the day, Comrade Windsor. I have a suspicion that he will be the first to approve your action. His holiday will have cleared his brain. Make a note of improvement number one--the sacking of Luella Granville Waterman." "I guess it'll be followed pretty quick by improvement number two--the sacking of William Windsor. I can't go monkeying about with the paper that way." Psmith reflected for a moment. "Has this job of yours any special attractions for you, Comrade Windsor?" "I guess not." "As I suspected. You yearn for scope. What exactly are your ambitions?" "I want to get a job on one of the big dailies. I don't see how I'm going to fix it, though, at the present rate." Psmith rose, and tapped him earnestly on the chest. "Comrade Windsor, you have touched the spot. You are wasting the golden hours of your youth. You must move. You must hustle. You must make Windsor of _Cosy Moments_ a name to conjure with. You must boost this sheet up till New York rings with your exploits. On the present lines that is impossible. You must strike out a line for yourself. You must show the world that even _Cosy Moments_ cannot keep a good man down." He resumed his seat. "How do you mean?" said Billy Windsor. Psmith turned to Mike. "Comrade Jackson, if you were editing this paper, is there a single feature you would willingly retain?" "I don't think there is," said Mike. "It's all pretty bad rot." "My opinion in a nutshell," said Psmith, approvingly. "Comrade Jackson," he explained, turning to Billy, "has a secure reputation on the other side for the keenness and lucidity of his views upon literature. You may safely build upon him. In England when Comrade Jackson says 'Turn' we all turn. Now, my views on the matter are as follows. _Cosy Moments_, in my opinion (worthless, were it not backed by such a virtuoso as Comrade Jackson), needs more snap, more go. All these putrid pages must disappear. Letters must be despatched to-morrow morning, informing Luella Granville Waterman and the others (and in particular B. Henderson Asher, who from a cursory glance strikes me as an ideal candidate for a lethal chamber) that, unless they cease their contributions instantly, you will be compelled to place yourself under police protection. After that we can begin to move."