"You might say, 'And charm the pensive cow,'" suggested Andy, mischievously.
"True, that might be a striking figure. I will consider it when I revise the poem for publication in book form."
The rest of the poem was of similar quality.
"I don't think they would accept that for the Century," thought Andy.
"Do you devote yourself to literary work, or are you in business?" he asked.
"I may go into business, but at present I only write. I send a letter once a month to the Greenville Banner."
"I suppose they pay?"
"Oh—ah, yes," answered the poet, in a hesitating voice, "but the terms are strictly confidential. If you ever pick up any incidents in your daily walks, Mr. Grant, I shall be glad if you will communicate them to me, that I may weave them into my correspondence."
"With pleasure."
Then it occurred to Andy to tell his neighbor about the street adventurer whom he had met three times that morning.