way；　why　should　I　not　write　the　life　and　adventures　of　Colonel　B…；
  of　Londonderry　in　Ireland？
  A　truly　singular　man　was　this　same　Colonel　B…；　of　Londonderry　in
  Ireland；　a　personage　of　most　strange　and　incredible　feats　and
  daring；　who　had　been　a　partizan　soldier；　a　bravo　…　who；　assisted　by
  certain　discontented　troopers；　nearly　succeeded　in　stealing　the
  crown　and　regalia　from　the　Tower　of　London；　who　attempted　to　hang
  the　Duke　of　Ormond　at　Tyburn；　and　whose　strange；　eventful　career
  did　not　terminate　even　with　his　life；　his　dead　body；　on　the
  circulation　of　an　unfounded　report　that　he　did　not　come　to　his
  death　by　fair　means；　having　been　exhumed　by　the　mob　of　his　native
  place；　where　he　had　retired　to　die；　and　carried　in　the　coffin
  through　the　streets。
  Of　his　life　I　had　inserted　an　account　in　the　NEWGATE　LIVES　AND
  TRIALS；　it　was　bare　and　meagre；　and　written　in　the　stiff；　awkward
  style　of　the　seventeenth　century；　it　had；　however；　strongly
  captivated　my　imagination；　and　I　now　thought　that　out　of　it
  something　better　could　be　made；　that；　if　I　added　to　the　adventures；
  and　purified　the　style；　I　might　fashion　out　of　it　a　very　decent
  tale　or　novel。　　On　a　sudden；　however；　the　proverb　of　mending　old
  garments　with　new　cloth　occurred　to　me。　　'I　am　afraid；'　said　I；
  'any　new　adventures　which　I　can　invent　will　not　fadge　well　with　the
  old　tale；　one　will　but　spoil　the　other。'　　I　had　better　have　nothing
  to　do　with　Colonel　B…；　thought　I；　but　boldly　and　independently　sit
  down　and　write　the　life　of　Joseph　Sell。
  This　Joseph　Sell；　dear　reader；　was　a　fictitious　personage　who　had
  just　come　into　my　head。　　I　had　never　even　heard　of　the　name；　but
  just　at　that　moment　it　happened　to　come　into　my　head；　I　would　write
  an　entirely　fictitious　narrative；　called　the　LIFE　AND　ADVENTURES　OF
  JOSEPH　SELL；　the　great　traveller。
  I　had　better　begin　at　once；　thought　I；　and　removing　the　bread　and
  the　jug；　which　latter　was　now　empty；　I　seized　pen　and　paper；　and
  forthwith　essayed　to　write　the　life　of　Joseph　Sell；　but　soon
  discovered　that　it　is　much　easier　to　resolve　upon　a　thing　than　to
  achieve　it；　or　even　to　commence　it；　for　the　life　of　me　I　did　not
  know　how　to　begin；　and；　after　trying　in　vain　to　write　a　line；　I
  thought　it　would　be　as　well　to　go　to　bed；　and　defer　my　projected
  undertaking　till　the　morrow。
  So　I　went　to　bed；　but　not　to　sleep。　　During　the　greater　part　of　the
  night　I　lay　awake；　musing　upon　the　work　which　I　had　determined　to
  execute。　　For　a　long　time　my　brain　was　dry　and　unproductive；　I
  could　form　no　plan　which　appeared　feasible。　　At　length　I　felt
  within　my　brain　a　kindly　glow；　it　was　the　commencement　of
  inspiration；　in　a　few　minutes　I　had　formed　my　plan；　I　then　began　to
  imagine　the　scenes　and　the　incidents。　　Scenes　and　incidents　flitted
  before　my　mind's　eye　so　plentifully；　that　I　knew　not　how　to　dispose
  of　them；　I　was　in　a　regular　embarrassment。　　At　length　I　got　out　of
  the　difficulty　in　the　easiest　manner　imaginable；　namely；　by
  consigning　to　the　depths　of　oblivion　all　the　feebler　and　less
  stimulant　scenes　and　incidents；　and　retaining　the　better　and　more
  impressive　ones。　　Before　morning　I　had　sketched　the　whole　work　on
  the　tablets　of　my　mind；　and　then　resigned　myself　to　sleep　in　the
  pleasing　conviction　that　the　most　difficult　part　of　my　undertaking
  was　achieved。
  CHAPTER　LVI
  Considerably　sobered　…　Power　of　writing　…　The　tempter　…　Hungry
  talent　…　Work　concluded。
  RATHER　late　in　the　morning　I　awoke；　for　a　few　minutes　I　lay　still；
  perfectly　still；　my　imagination　was　considerably　sobered；　the
  scenes　and　situations　which　had　pleased　me　so　much　over　night
  appeared　to　me　in　a　far　less　captivating　guise　that　morning。　　I
  felt　languid　and　almost　hopeless　…　the　thought；　however；　of　my
  situation　soon　roused　me　…　I　must　make　an　effort　to　improve　the
  posture　of　my　affairs；　there　was　no　time　to　be　lost；　so　I　sprang
  out　of　bed；　breakfasted　on　bread　and　water；　and　then　sat　down
  doggedly　to　write　the　life　of　Joseph　Sell。
  It　was　a　great　thing　to　have　formed　my　plan；　and　to　have　arranged
  the　scenes　in　my　head；　as　I　had　done　on　the　preceding　night。　　The
  chief　thing　requisite　at　present　was　the　mere　mechanical　act　of
  committing　them　to　paper。　　This　I　did　not　find　at　first　so　easy　as
  I　could　wish　…　I　wanted　mechanical　skill；　but　I　persevered；　and
  before　evening　I　had　written　ten　pages。　　I　partook　of　some　bread
  and　water；　and　before　I　went　to　bed　that　night；　I　had　completed
  fifteen　pages　of　my　life　of　Joseph　Sell。
  The　next　day　I　resumed　my　task　…　I　found　my　power　of　writing
  considerably　increased；　my　pen　hurried　rapidly　over　the　paper　…　my
  brain　was　in　a　wonderfully　teeming　state；　many　scenes　and　visions
  which　I　had　not　thought　of　before　were　evolved；　and；　as　fast　as
  evolved；　written　down；　they　seemed　to　be　more　pat　to　my　purpose；
  and　more　natural　to　my　history；　than　many　others　which　I　had
  imagined　before；　and　which　I　made　now　give　place　to　these　newer
  creations：　　by　about　midnight　I　had　added　thirty　fresh　pages　to　my
  LIFE　AND　ADVENTURES　OF　JOSEPH　SELL。
  The　third　day　arose　…　it　was　dark　and　dreary　out　of　doors；　and　I
  passed　it　drearily　enough　within；　my　brain　appeared　to　have　lost
  much　of　its　former　glow；　and　my　pen　much　of　its　power；　I；　however；
  toiled　on；　but　at　midnight　had　only　added　seven　pages　to　my　history
  of　Joseph　Sell。
  On　the　fourth　day　the　sun　shone　brightly　…　I　arose；　and；　having
  breakfasted　as　usual；　I　fell　to　work。　　My　brain　was　this　day
  wonderfully　prolific；　and　my　pen　never　before　or　since　glided　so
  rapidly　over　the　paper；　towards　night　I　began　to　feel　strangely
  about　the　back　part　of　my　head；　and　my　whole　system　was
  extraordinarily　affected。　　I　likewise　occasionally　saw　double　…　a
  tempter　now　seemed　to　be　at　work　within　me。
  'You　had　better　leave　off　now　for　a　short　space；'　said　the　tempter；
  'and　go　out　and　drink　a　pint　of　beer；　you　have　still　one　shilling
  left　…　if　you　go　on　at　this　rate；　you　will　go　mad　…　go　out　and
  spend　sixpence；　you　can　afford　it；　more　than　half　your　work　is
  done。'　　I　was　about　to　obey　the　suggestion　of　the　tempter；　when　the
  idea　struck　me　that；　if　I　did　not　complete　the　work　whilst　the　fit
  was　on　me；　I　should　never　complete　it；　so　I　held　on。　I　am　almost
  afraid　to　state　how　many　pages　I　wrote　that　day　of　the　life　of
  Joseph　Sell。
  From　this　time　I　proceeded　in　a　somewhat　more　leisurely　manner；
  but；　as　I　drew　nearer　and　nearer　to　the　completion　of　my　task；
  dreadful　fears　and　despondencies　came　over　me。　…　It　will　be　too
  late；　thought　I；　by　the　time　I　have　finished　the　work；　the
  bookseller　will　have　been　supplied　with　a　tale　or　a　novel。　　Is　it
  probable　that；　in　a　town　like　this；　where　talent　is　so　abundant　…
  hungry　talent　too　…　a　bookseller　can　advertise　for　a　tale　or　a
  novel；　without　being　supplied　with　half　a　dozen　in　twenty…four
  hours？　　I　may　as　well　fling　down　my　pen　…　I　am　writing　to　no
  purpose。　　And　these　thoughts　came　over　my　mind　so　often；　that　at
  last；　in　utter　despair；　I　flung　down　the　pen。　　Whereupon　the
  tempter　within　me　said　…　'And；　now　you　have　flung　down　the　pen；　you
  may　as　well　fling　yourself　out　of　the　window；　what　remains　for　you
  to　do？'　　Why；　to　take　it　up　again；　thought　I　to　myself；　for　I　did
  not　like　the　latter　suggestion　at　all　…　and　then　forthwith　I
  resumed　the　pen；　and　wrote　with　greater　vigour　than　before；　from
  about　six　o'clock　in　the　evening　until　I　could　hardly　see；　when　I
  rested　for　a　while；　when　the　tempter　within　me　again　said；　or
  appeared　to　say　…　'All　you　have　been　writing　is　stuff；　it　will
  never　do　…　a　drug　…　a　mere　drug'；　and　methought　these　last　words
  were　uttered　in　the　gruff　tones　of　the　big　publisher。　　'A　thing
  merely　to　be　sneezed　at；'　a　voice　like　that　of　Taggart　added；　and
  then　I　seemed　to　hear　a　sternutation；　…　as　I　probably　did；　for；
  recovering　from　a　kind　of　swoon；　I　found　myself　shivering　with
  cold。　　The　next　day　I　brought　my　work　to　a　conclusion。
  But　the　task　of　revision　still　remained；　for　an　hour　or　two　I
  shrank　from　it；　and　remained　gazing　stupidly　at　the　pile　of　paper
  which　I　had　written　over。　　I　was　all　but　exhausted；　and　I　dreaded；
  on　inspecting　the　sheets；　to　find　them　full　of　absurdities　which　I
  had　paid　no　regard　to　in　the　furor　of　composition。　　But　the　task；
  however　trying　to　my　nerves；　must　be　got　over；　at　last；　in　a　kind
  of　desperation；　I　entered　upon　it。　　It　was　far　from　an　easy　one；
  there　were；　however；　fewer　errors　and　absurdities　than　I　had
  anticipated。　　About　twelve　o'clock　at　night　I　had　got　over　the　task
  of　revision。　　'To…morrow　for　the　bookseller；'　said　I；　as　my　head
  sank　on　the　pillow。　　'Oh　me！'
  CHAPTER　LVII
  Nervous　look　…　The　bookseller's　wife　…　The　last　stake　…　Terms　…　God
  forbid！　…　Will　you　come　to　tea？　…　A　light　heart。
  ON　arriving　at　the　bookseller's　shop