C. P.—Is it surely great work? The ink is hardly dry. The literary fashions determining its form and substance are still with us. Posterity will have to pass judgment upon it, which posterity will indubitably do without reference to our view of the matter. Then, if you and I happen to be in communication with this vale of tears we shall know if these noted authors were mining the great mother-lode of human interest, or, occasionally touching some of its dips, spurs and angles, taking out barren rock. It looks to us like a rich enough ore, but it is a long journey to where there is an assaying-plant capable of dealing with that particular product. When it is “heard from” we shall not be here. Those who mined it are gone already. R. A.—Then there can be no valuable contemporary criticism? C. P.—None that any one can know to be valuable. R. A.—And no man can live long enough to know if he is a good writer? C. P.—The trade of writing has that disadvantage. R. A.—We are getting a long way from business. Am I to understand that you reject my book because, as you say, “it is exquisitely touching and beautiful”? C. P.—You outline the painful situation with accuracy. R. A.—Well, I’ll be damned! C. P.—Sure!—if you find a sentimentalist who will publish your book. He will do the damning. II EDITOR.—Glad to see you, sir. Take a chair. VISITOR.—I am the proprietor of _The Prosperous Monthly_. ED.—Take two chairs. VIS.—I called to congratulate you on the extraordinary success of _The Waste Basket_. I should not have thought it possible for you to break into our field and play this game as well as we. And with so fantastic a title! ED.—For my success I am greatly indebted to yourself. VIS.—Not if I know it: we have fought you, tooth and nail. ED.—Oh, that is all right; if it had been expedient we should have fought back. Our prosperity depended on yours. VIS.—Heaven has withheld from me the intelligence to understand. ED.—Have any of the contents of this magazine ever seemed familiar to you? VIS.—I am not much of a reader; my editor has fancied that some of your articles lacked originality, but has confessed that he could not quite identify their authors. ED.—Just so; I accept nothing for my magazine that has not been first submitted to yours. If it has not been when offered, I require that to be done. VIS.—That is monstrous nice of you. Such knightly courtesy to a senior competitor is most unusual. I thank you—come and dine with me to-morrow at seven (_handing card_). ED.—With pleasure. Good day. VIS.—Good day. (_Exit Visitor._) ED. (_solus_).—If he thinks it out, I shall miss a dinner. A STORY AT THE CLUB “Do you believe that?” said Dr. Dutton, passing a newspaper across the table to Will Brady and taking needless pains to point out “that” with his thumb. Brady read the discredited paragraph. It was as follows: