"I have written a book, sir, and I want to have it printed."
The gent looked at me contemplatively. What his thoughts were I don't know.
"What kind of a book is it you've written? History, travel, poetry, novel or what?"
I told him it was a novel.
"How many pages will the book contain?" asked the superintendent.
"There will be four or five hundred pages, I guess, as near as I can figure it," responded I.
"How many copies will you want?"
"I'll leave that to you, sir, for you know best. This is my first book, and though I don't think it is going to set the world on fire," said I modestly, "I think a first edition of about ten thousand copies would be the thing. Don't you think that would do for a starter?"
"It might," said he contemplatively. "Excuse me," continued he as he sat down at his desk and began to do some figuring. When he got through he turned to me and said: "Ten thousand copies of the book in paper cover will cost you in the neighborhood of $1000."
"Cost me $1000," almost shrieked I. "I wanted to know what you'll give me for the manuscript and print it yourself."