'Want to work on the Tribune,' I answered.'
'Good Lord! he said. 'I can't hire everybody.'
I tried to think of some argument, but what with looking at the great man before me, and answering his questions and maintaining a decent show of dignity, I had enough to do.
'Do you read the Tribune? he asked.'
'Read it ever since I can remember.'
'What do you think of the administration?
'Lot of dough faces! I answered, smiling, as I saw he recognised his own phrase. He sat a moment tapping the desk with his penholder.'
'There's so many liars here in New York,' he said, 'there ought to be room for an honest man. How are the crops?'
'Fair, I answered. 'Big crop of boys every year.'
'And now you're trying to find a market, he remarked.'