“Very well, if you wish,” said he, “we always read everything that is offered to us.”
“How soon shall you be able to let me know?”
“Oh, in a week or ten days.”
And then I went out—shuddering with excitement. A week or ten days! Well—I can wait. I have done all my duty, at any rate.
July 9th.
I have certainly played a bold game with my poem! At the publisher's at last—and I, having paid my room-rent, have just a dollar in my pocket!
I have been tramping about all day to-day, looking for some work. I don't care what it is—I can do anything to keep alive for a week or ten days.—I wonder if they will advance me some money at once.