"Yes!"
"But the 'Gazette'—?"
"Is the immediate cause."
Verty sat down.
"I'm sorry, sir," he said, smiling; "but I don't understand. I never read the newspapers. Nothing but the Bible—because Redbud wants me to: I hope to like it after awhile though."
"I trust you will never throw away your time on this thing!" cried Roundjacket, running the end of his ruler through the paper; "can you believe, sir, that the first canto of my great poem has been murdered in its columns—yes, murdered!"
"Killed, do you mean, sir?"
"I do—I mean that the illiterate editor of this disgraceful sheet has assassinated the offspring of my imagination!"
"That was very wrong, sir."
"Wrong? It was infamous? What should be done with such a man!" cried
Roundjacket.