old dome they are dim-olishing yonder, of the once state-house,
previously Hotel St. Louis. I know. Twice a day you pass my shop. I
am compelled to see, what Ovide also has told me, that, like me and my
wife, you have a passion for the _poétique_ and the _pittoresque_!"

"Yes," Chester laughed, "but that's my limit. I've never written a
line for print----"

"This writing is done, since fifty years."

"I've never passed literary judgment on a written page and don't
suppose I ever shall."

"The judgment is passed. The value of the article is pronounced
great--by an expert amateur."

"SHE?" the youth silently asked himself. He spoke: "Why, then what
advice do you still want--how to find a publisher?"

"No, any publisher will jump at that. But how to so nig-otiate that he
shall not be the lion and we the lamb!"

Chester smiled again: "Why, if that's the point--" he mused. The hope
came again that this unusual shopman and his wish had something to do
with _her_.

"If that's the advice you want," he resumed, "I think we might construe
it as legal, though worth at the most a mere notarial fee."

"And contingent on--?" the costumer prompted.