this endeavor, reduced even so buoyant an optimist to despair, and after
wasting some valuable weeks in trying to work the artists himself, he
determined to get an artist to work them. But what artist? It could not
be a man with fixed reputation and a following: he would be too costly,
and would have too many enemies among his brethren, even if he would
consent to undertake the job. Fulkerson had a man in mind, an artist,
too, who would have been the very thing if he had been the thing at all.
He had talent enough, and his sort of talent would reach round the whole
situation, but, as Fulkerson said, he was as many kinds of an ass as he
was kinds of an artist.




PG EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS:

Anticipative homesickness
Any sort of stuff was good enough to make a preacher out of
Appearance made him doubt their ability to pay so much
As much of his story as he meant to tell without prompting
Considerable comfort in holding him accountable
Extract what consolation lurks in the irreparable
Flavors not very sharply distinguished from one another
Handsome pittance
He expected to do the wrong thing when left to his own devices
Hypothetical difficulty
Never-blooming shrub
Poverty as hopeless as any in the world
Seeming interested in points necessarily indifferent to him
Servant of those he loved