"It's about as much like your usual style as my style is like Henry James's."
"You don't consider it a good editorial, then?"
"You have not necessarily drawn the correct inference from my remark. I consider it an excellent editorial. In fact—I shall make it my leader to-morrow morning. But that has nothing to do with how you happen to be using a style exactly the reverse of your own."
Queed had heaved a great sigh. The article occupied three pages of copy-paper in a close handwriting, and represented sixteen hours' work. Its author had rewritten it eleven times, incessantly referring to his text-book, the files of the Post, and subjecting each phrase to the most gruelling examination before finally admitting it to the perfect structure. However, it seemed no use to bore one's employer with details such as these.
"I have been doing a little studying of late—"
"Under excellent masters, it seems. Now this phrase, 'the ultimate reproach and the final infamy"—the Colonel unconsciously smacked his lips over it—"why, sir, it sounds like one of my own."
Queed started.
"If you must know, it is one of your own. You used it on October 26, 1900, during, as you will recall, the closing days of the presidential campaign."
The Colonel stared at him, bewildered.
"I decided to learn editorial-writing—as the term is understood," Queed reluctantly explained. "Therefore, I have been sitting up till two o'clock in the mornings, studying the files of the Post, to see exactly how you did it."