would be like in close personal contact with such a man.

The general opinion of my friends was that life with Mr. Pulitzer would
be one long succession of happy, care-free days spent along the
languorous shores of the Mediterranean--days of which perhaps two hours
would be devoted to light conversation with my interesting host, and the
remainder of my waking moments to the gaities of Monte Carlo, to rambles
on the picturesque hillsides of Rapallo and Bordighera, or to the genial
companionship of my fellow-secretaries under the snowy awnings of the
yacht.

We argued the matter out to our entire satisfaction. Mr. Pulitzer, in
addition to being blind, was a chronic invalid, requiring a great deal
of sleep and repose. He could hardly be expected to occupy more than
twelve hours a day with his secretaries. That worked out at two hours
apiece, or, if the division was made by days, about one day a week to
each secretary.

The yacht, I had been given to understand, cruised for about eight
months in the year over a course bounded by Algiers and the Piraeus, by
Mentone and Alexandria, with visits to the ports of Italy, Sicily,
Corsica, and Crete. The least imaginative of mortals could make a very
fair and alluring picture of what life would be like under such
circumstances. As the event turned out it was certainly not our
imaginations that were at fault.

As time passed without bringing any further sign from Mr. Tuohy my hopes
gradually died out, and I fixed in my mind a date upon which I would
abandon all expectations of securing the appointment. Scarcely had I
reached this determination when I received a telegram from Mr. Tuohy