"Well?"

"I suppose I'd try to--to write."

"Write what?"

"Nothing important--just poems and essays, perhaps."

"That all?"

"Yes, sir."

"I see," said his father, breathing quickly with the restraint he was
putting upon himself. "That is, you want to write, but you don't want
to write anything of any account."

"You think--"

Sheridan got up again. "I take my hat off to the man that can write
a good ad," he said, emphatically. "The best writin' talent in this
country is right spang in the ad business to-day. You buy a magazine
for good writin'--look on the back of it! Let me tell you I pay money
for that kind o' writin'. Maybe you think it's easy. Just try it!
I've tried it, and I can't do it. I tell you an ad's got to be
written so it makes people do the hardest thing in this world to GET
'em to do: it's got to make 'em give up their MONEY! You talk about
'poems and essays.' I tell you when it comes to the actual skill
o' puttin' words together so as to make things HAPPEN, R. T. Bloss,
right here in this city, knows more in a minute than George Waldo