The Wonderful Adventures of Cap’n Wiley.
Written by Himself. Edited by Burt L. Standish.
INTRODUCTORY.
I was sitting in my den desperately seeking the germ thought for a story when Cap’n Wiley blew in and appropriated the easy-chair.
“Ah, there, old top,” said he. “So I’ve caught you red-handed in your little sanctum sanctotum. What meaneth the distraught look which corregateth thy dome of thought?”
“Cap’n,” said I, “you jar me. I’m thinking.”
“Don’t do it,” he entreated. “You’re taking a frightful chance when you put such a strain on your impoverished gray matter. You don’t have to think to write the sort of souperific stuff you slosh out.”
“Don’t I!” I cried, exasperated. “Well, now, perhaps you think you could write it yourself?”
“No,” he answered cheerfully, “nothing quite as distressing. Now, if I was going to write, I’d hand the yearning public some real littery litterchewer, just for a change. I say, Burt, old sport, I think I’ll try one of your Havana imperfectos, if you have one inconvenient at hand.”
I brought out a box of cigars, and he helped himself to a handful. Then he “borrowed” a match, fired up, and settled back, with a sigh of satisfaction, on the easy-chair.