Of course it isn't really the Billikin, or the elephant, or the tobacco that does the trick. They merely enable us to concentrate upon the work in hand: from them we gather hope that work will produce results, so we get busy and results come.
The main thing is to break the shackles of laziness and begin our labors; then, after that, to forget that we are laboring in the sheer joy of creation with which our labor inspires us.
New York, Sept. 2, 1911.
My dear Mr. Edwards:
You fairly have me stumped. With the greatest pleasure in the world I would give you what you ask for your book, but I am not certain that I can recall any humorous anecdotes; and as for "quips," I look the word up and discover that it means: "A sneering or mocking remark; gibe; taunt." And I am afraid I am not equal to evolving any of these.... All I can recall now is that in my early days an editor of the New York Herald wanted to kick me down the editorial stairs because I asked pay for amusement notes they had been printing for nothing. I fled, leaving my last Ms. behind me—which they also printed gratis. Now this wasn't humorous to anybody at the time, and if there was any 'quip,' that editor uttered it, and I don't remember now just the language he used.
Very truly yours,
Matthew White, Jr.,
Editor The Argosy.
[VIII.]
THE WOLF ON
THE SKY-LINE.
For Edwards, the year 1895 dawned in a blaze of prosperity and went out in the gathering shadows of impending disaster.
Spring found him literally swamped with orders, and he tried the experiment of hiring a young man stenographer and typist to assist him. The young man was an expert in his line and proved so efficient an aide that Edwards hired another who was equally proficient. Two stenographers failing to help him catch up with his flood of orders, he secured a third.
One assistant put in his time copying manuscripts and cataloguing clippings, to another the library work was dictated, and the third was employed on "Stella Edwards" material.