We sent a detective to Dillville, Indiana, where the author lived, and the report we received was most satisfactory. The author was a sober, industrious young man, just out of the high school, and bore a first-class reputation for honesty. He had never been in Virginia, where the scene of his story was laid, and they had no library in Dillville, and our detective assured us that the young man was in every way fitted to write a historical novel. "The Crimson Cord" made an immense success. You can guess how it boomed when I say that although it was published at a dollar and a half, it was sold by every department store for fifty-four cents, away below cost, just like sugar, or Vandeventer's Baby Food, or Q & Z Corsets, or any other staple. We sold our first edition of five million copies inside of three months, and got out another edition of two million, and a specially illustrated holiday edition and an _edition de luxe_, and "The Crimson Cord" is still selling in paper-covered cheap edition. With the royalties received from the aftermath and the profit on the book itself, we made--well, Perkins has a country place at Lakewood, and I have my cottage at Newport. [Footnote 1: Copyright, 1904, by Leslie's Magazine.] THE RHYME OF THE CHIVALROUS SHARK[2] BY WALLACE IRWIN Most chivalrous fish of the ocean, To ladies forbearing and mild, Though his record be dark, is the man-eating shark Who will eat neither woman nor child. He dines upon seamen and skippers, And tourists his hunger assuage, And a fresh cabin boy will inspire him with joy If he's past the maturity age. A doctor, a lawyer, a preacher, He'll gobble one any fine day, But the ladies, God bless 'em, he'll only address 'em Politely and go on his way. I can readily cite you an instance Where a lovely young lady of Breem, Who was tender and sweet and delicious to eat, Fell into the bay with a scream. She struggled and flounced in the water And signaled in vain for her bark, And she'd surely been drowned if she hadn't been found By a chivalrous man-eating shark. He bowed in a manner most polished, Thus soothing her impulses wild; "Don't be frightened," he said, "I've been properly bred And will eat neither woman nor child." Then he proffered his fin and she took it-- Such a gallantry none can dispute-- While the passengers cheered as the vessel they neared And a broadside was fired in salute. And they soon stood alongside the vessel, When a life-saving dingey was lowered With the pick of the crew, and her relatives, too, And the mate and the skipper aboard. So they took her aboard in a jiffy, And the shark stood attention the while, Then he raised on his flipper and ate up the skipper And went on his way with a smile.