A. E. (surprised at his ignorance). No, sir, it was contributed to the “Weekly Bulletin.” I have never written anything for the “Post,” but should be willing to do so. What are your terms?
Ed. (blandly). Three dollars a year.
A. E. I do not mean the subscription price of the paper, but how much do you pay your poetical contributors?
Ed. We—ahem—that is, our friends are kind enough to make us a free gift of their productions in that line.
A. E. (insinuatingly). But don’t you pay for superior poetry? I have here a poem which I would like to see transferred to your columns (passes manuscript to him).
Ed. (taking the poem). Seventy-seven stanzas! That would be too long for our columns. Couldn’t you shorten it?
A. E. Not without marring its symmetrical proportions. But I will write another and a shorter one soon, which will perhaps suit you better.
Ed. Thank you, Miss Ellis. That will undoubtedly be better suited to our columns.
(Exit A. E., L.)
(Enter, L., George Crane excitedly.)