It is the desire of every ambitious soul to, enter Literature by the
front door, and the few who have patience and money enough to live
without the aid of the beckoning Helen may enter there. But a side
entrance is the destiny of most aspirants, even those with the golden
key of genius, and they are a long time in working their way to be seen
coming out, of the front entrance. It is true that a man can attract
considerable and immediate attention by trying to effect an entrance
through the sewer, but he seldom gains the respect of the public whom he
interests, any more than an exhibitor of fireworks gains the reputation
of an artist that is accorded to the painter of a good picture.
Philip was waiting at the front door, with his essays and his prose
symphonies and his satirical novel--the satire of a young man is apt to
be very bitter--but it was as tightly shut against him as if a publisher
and not the muse of literature kept the door.
There was a fellow-boarder with Philip, whose acquaintance he had made
at the common table in the basement, who appeared to be free of the
world of letters and art. He was an alert, compact, neatly dressed
little fellow, who had apparently improved every one of his twenty-eight
years in the study of life, in gaining assurance and confidence in
himself, and also presented himself as one who knew the nether world
completely but was not of it. He would have said of himself that he knew
it profoundly, that he frequented it for “material,” but that his home
was in another sphere. The impression was that he belonged among those
brilliant guerrillas of both sexes, in the border-land of art and
society, who lived daintily and talked about life with unconventional
freedom. Slight in figure, with very black hair, and eyes of cloudy
gray, an olive complexion, and features trained to an immobility proof
against emotion or surprise, the whole poised as we would say in the
act of being gentlemanly, it is needless to say that he took himself
seriously. His readiness, self-confidence, cocksureness, Philip thought
all expressed in his name--Olin Brad.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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