“Take another pinch,” said Taggart.

“No,” said I, “I don’t like snuff.”

“Then you will never do for authorship; at least for this kind.”

“So I begin to think—what shall I do?”

Taggart took snuff.

“You were talking of a great work—what shall it be?”

Taggart took snuff.

“Do you think I could write one?”

Taggart uplifted his two forefingers as if to tap, he did not, however.

“It would require time,” said I, with half a sigh.