on　a　tremendous　and　sounding　epic　of　life。　　Valhalla
  itself　could　not　be　more　glorious　and　sonorous。　　The
  classic　marble　on　which　we　ate；　the　great；　light…
  flooded；　vitreous　front；　adorned　with　snow…white
  scrolls；　the　grand　Wagnerian　din　of　clanking　cups
  and　bowls　the　flashing　staccato　of　brandishing　cut…
  lery；　the　piercing　recitative　of　the　white…aproned
  grub…maidens　at　the　morgue…like　banquet　tables；　the
  recurrent　lied…motif　of　the　cash…register　　it　was　a
  gigantic；　triumphant　welding　of　art　and　sound；　a
  deafening；　soul…uplifting　pageant　of　heroic　and　em…
  blematic　life。　　And　the　beans　were　only　ten　cents。
  We　wondered　why　our　fellow…artists　cared　to　dine　at
  sad　little　tables　in　their　so…called　Bohemian　restau…
  rants；　and　we　shuddered　lest　they　should　seek　out　our
  resorts　and　make　them　conspicuous　with　their　pres…
  ence。
  Pettit　wrote　many　stories；　which　the　editors　re…
  turned　to　him。　　He　wrote　love　stories；　a　thing　I　have
  always　kept　free　from；　holding　the　belief　that　the
  well…known　and　popular　sentiment　is　not　properly　a
  matter　for　publication；　but　something　to　be　privately
  handled　by　the　alienists　and　florists。　　But　the　editors
  had　told　him　that　they　wanted　love　stories；　because
  they　said　the　women　read　them。
  Now；　the　editors　are　wrong　about　that；　of　course。
  Women　do　not　read　the　love　stories　in　the　magazines。
  They　read　the　poker…game　stories　and　the　recipes
  for　cucumber　lotion。　　The　love　stories　are　read　by
  fat　cigar　drummers　and　little　ten…year…old　girls。　　I
  am　not　criticising　the　judgment　of　editors。　　They
  are　mostly　very　fine　men；　but　a　man　can　be　but　one
  man；　with　individual　opinions　and　tastes。　　I　knew
  two　associate　editors　of　a　magazine　who　were　won…
  derfully　alike　in　almost　everything。　　And　yet　one
  of　them　was　very　fond　of　Flaubert；　while　the　other
  preferred　gin。
  Pettit　brought　me　his　returned　manuscripts；　and
  we　looked　them　over　together　to　find　out　why　they
  were　not　accepted。　　They　seemed　to　me　pretty　fair
  stories；　written　in　a　good　style；　and　ended；　as　they
  should；　at　the　bottom　of　the　last　page。
  They　were　well　constructed　and　the　events　were
  marshalled　in　orderly　and　logical　sequence。　　But　I
  thought　I　detected　a　lack　of　living　substance　　it
  was　much　as　if　I　gazed　at　a　symmetrical　array　of
  presentable　clamshells　from　which　the　succulent　and
  vital　inhabitants　had　been　removed。　　I　intimated　that
  the　author　might　do　well　to　get　better　acquainted　with
  his　theme。
  〃You　sold　a　story　last　week；〃　said　Pettit；　〃about
  a　gun　fight　in　an　Arizona　mining　town　in　which　the
  hero　drew　his　Colt's　。45　and　shot　seven　bandits　as
  fast　as　they　came　in　the　door。　　Now；　if　a　six…shooter
  could　　〃
  〃Oh；　well；〃　said　I；　〃that's　different。　　Arizona　is
  a　long　way　from　New　York。　I　could　have　a　man
  stabbed　with　a　lariat　or　chased　by　a　pair　of　chap…
  arreras　if　I　wanted　to；　and　it　wouldn't　be　noticed
  until　the　usual　error…sharp　from　around　McAdams
  Junction　isolates　the　erratum　and　writes　in　to　the　pa…
  pers　about　it。　　But　you　are　up　against　another
  proposition。　　This　thing　they　call　love　is　as　common
  around　New　York　as　it　is　in　Sheboygan　during　the
  young　onion　season。　　It　may　be　mixed　here　with　a
  little　commercialism　　they　read　Byron；　but　they
  look　up　Bradstreet's；　too；　while　they're　among　the
  B's；　and　Brigham　also　if　they　have　time　　but　it's
  pretty　much　the　same　old　internal　disturbance　every…
  where。　　You　can　fool　an　editor　with　a　fake　picture　of
  a　cowboy　mounting　a　pony　with　his　left　hand　on　the
  saddle　horn；　but　you　can't　put　him　up　a　tree　with　a
  love　story。　　So；　you've　got　to　fall　in　love　and　then
  write　the　real　thing。〃
  Pettit　did。　　I　never　knew　whether　he　was　taking
  my　advice　or　whether　be　fell　an　accidental　victim。
  There　was　a　girl　be　had　met　at　one　of　these　studio
  contrivances　…　a　glorious；　impudent；　lucid；　open…
  minded　girl　with　hair　the　color　of　Culmbacher；　and　a
  good…natured　way　of　despising　you。　　She　was　a　New
  York　girl。
  Well　（as　the　narrative　style　permits　us　to　say　in…
  frequently）；　Pettit　went　to　pieces。　　All　those　pains；
  those　lover's　doubts；　those　heart…burnings　and
  tremors　of　which　be　had　written　so　unconvincingly
  were　his。　　Talk　about　Shylock's　pound　of　flesh！
  Twenty…five　pounds　Cupid　got　from　Pettit。　　Which
  is　the　usurer？
  One　night　Pettit　came　to　my　room　exalted。　　Pale
  and　haggard　but　exalted。　　She　had　given　him　a
  jonquil。
  〃Old　Hoss；〃　said　he；　with　a　new　smile　flickering
  around　his　mouth；　〃I　believe　I　could　write　that　story
  to…night　　the　one；　you　know；　that　is　to　win　out。
  〃I　can　feel　it。　　I　don't　know　whether　it　will　come　out
  or　not；　but　I　can　feel　it。〃
  I　pushed　him　out　of　my　door。　　〃Go　to　your　room
  and　write　it；〃　I　ordered。　　〃Else　I　can　see　your　fin…
  ish。　　I　told　you　this　must　come　first。　　Write　it　to…
  night　and　put　it　under　my　door　when　it　is　done。　　Put
  it　under　my　door　to…night　when　it　is　finished
  don't　keep　it　until　to…morrow。〃
  I　was　reading　my　bully　old　pal　Montaigne　at　two
  o'clock　when　I　beard　the　sheets　rustle　under　my　door。
  I　gathered　them　up　and　read　the　story。
  The　hissing　of　geese；　the　languishing　cooing　of
  doves；　the　braying　of　donkeys；　the　chatter　of　irre…
  sponsible　sparrows　…　these　were　in　my　mind's　ear　as
  I　read。　　〃Suffering　Sappho！〃　I　exclaimed　to　myself。
  〃Is　this　the　divine　fire　that　is　supposed　to　ignite
  genius　and　make　it　practicable　and　wage…earning？〃
  The　story　was　sentimental　drivel；　full　of　whim…
  pering　softheartedness　and　gushing　egoism。　　All
  the　art　that　Pettit　had　acquired　was　gone。　　A　pe…
  rusal　of　its　buttery　phrases　would　have　made　a　cynic
  of　a　sighing　chambermaid。
  In　the　morning　Pettit　came　to　my　room。　　I　read
  him　his　doom　mercilessly。　　He　laughed　idiotically。
  〃All　right；　Old　Hoss；〃　he　said；　cheerily；　〃make
  cigar…lighters　of　it。　　What's　the　difference？　　I'm
  going　to　take　her　to　lunch　at　Claremont　to…day。〃
  There　was　about　a　month　of　it。　　And　then　Pettit
  came　to　me　bearing　an　invisible　mitten；　with　the　forti…
  tude　of　a　dish…rag。　　He　talked　of　the　grave　and
  South　America　and　prussic　acid；　and　I　lost　an　after…
  noon　getting　him　straight。　　I　took　him　out　and　saw
  that　large　and　curative　doses　of　whiskey　were　ad…
  ministered　to　him。　　I　warned　you　this　was　a　true
  story　　'ware　your　white　ribbons　if　only　follow　this
  tale。　　For　two　weeks　I　fed　him　whiskey　and　Omar；
  and　read　to　him　regularly　every　evening　the　column
  in　the　evening　paper　that　reveals　the　secrets　of　fe…
  male　beauty。　I　recommend　the　treatment。
  After　Pettit　was　cured　be　wrote　more　stories。　He
  recovered　his　old…time　facility　and　did　work　just
  short　of　good　enough。　　Then　the　curtain　rose　on
  the　third　act。
  A　little；　dark…eyed；　silent　girl　from　New　Hamp…
  shire；　who　was　studying　applied　design；　fell　deeply
  in　love　with　him。　　She　was　the　intense　sort；　but　ex…
  ternally　glace；　such　as　New　England　sometimes　fools
  us　with。　　Pettit　liked　her　mildly；　and　took　her　about
  a　good　deal。　　She　worshipped　him；　and　now　and　then
  ignored　him。
  There　came　a　climax　when　she　tried　to　jump　out
  of　a　window；　and　he　had　to　save　her　by　some　perfunc…
  tary；　unmeant　wooing。　　Even　I　was　shaken　by　the
  depths　of　the　absorbing　affection　she　showed。　　Home；
  friends；　traditions；　creeds　went　up　like　thistle…down
  in　the　scale　against　her　love。　　It　was　really　discom…
  posing。
  One　night　again　Pettit　sauntered　in；　yawning。　　As
  he　had　told　me　before；　he　said　he　felt　that　he　could
  do　a　great　story；　and　as　before　I　hunted　him　to　his
  room　and　saw　him　open　his　inkstand。　　At　one　o'clock
  the　sheets　of　paper　slid　under　my　door。
  I　read　that　story；　and　I　jumped　up；　late　as　it　was；
  with　a　whoop　of　joy。　　Old　Pettit　had　done　it。　　Just
  as　though　it　lay　there；　red　and　bleeding；　a　woman's
  heart　was　written　into　the　lines。　　You　couldn't　see
  the　joining；　but　art；　exquisite　art；　and　pulsing　na…
  ture　had　been　combined　into　a　love　story　that　took
  you　by　the　throat　like　the　quinsy。　　I　broke　into
  Pettit's　room　and　beat　him　on　the　back　and　called
  him　name　　names　high　up　in　the　galaxy　of　the　im…
  mortals　that　we　admired。　　And　Pettit　yawned　and
  begged　to　be　allowed　to　sleep。
  On　the　morrow；　I　dragged　him　to　an　editor。　　The
  great　man　read；　and；　rising；　gave　Pettit　his　hand。
  That　was　a　decoration；　a　wreath　of　bay；　and　a　guar…
  antee　of　rent。
  And　then　old　Pettit　smiled　slowly。　　I　call　him　Gen…
  tleman　Pettit　now　to　myself。　　It's　a　miserable　name
  to　give　a　man；　but　it　sounds　better　than　it　looks　in
  print。
  〃I　see；〃　said　old　Pettit；　as　he　took　up　his　story
  and　began　tearing　it　into　small　strips。　　〃I　see　the
  game　now。　　You　can't　write　with　ink；　and　you　can't
  write　with　your　own　heart's　blood；　but　you　can　write
  with　the　heart's　blood　of　some　one　else。　　You　have
  to　be　a　cad　before　you　can　be　an　artist。　　Well；　I　am
  for　old　Alabam　and　the　Major's　store。　　Have　you
  got　a　light；　Old　Hoss？〃
  I　went　with　Pettit　to　the　d