high-class paper for the family circle would be irretrievably ruined!
I was a conscientious young man in those days. I had undertaken to write a four-and-a-half column pathetic story by the end of August; and if—no matter at what mental or physical cost to myself—the task could be accomplished, those four columns and a half should be ready. I have generally found indigestion a good breeder of sorrowful thoughts. Accordingly, for a couple of days I lived upon an exclusive diet of hot boiled pork, Yorkshire pudding, and assorted pastry, with lobster salad for supper. It gave me comic nightmare. _-_252.jpg)
I dreamed of elephants trying to climb trees, and of churchwardens being caught playing pitch-and-toss on Sundays, and woke up shaking with laughter!
I abandoned the dyspeptic scheme, and took to read-
