"You see, Yates, people's opinions differ. A man like Brown may not be
Principal Scragmore's ideal. The principal may be local in his ideals
of a successful man, or of one who reflects credit on his teaching."

"Local? You bet he's local. Too darned local for me. It would do that
man good to live in New York for a year. But I'm going to get even with
him. I'm going to write him up. I'll give him a column and a half; see
if I don't. I'll get his photograph, and publish a newspaper portrait
of him. If that doesn't make him quake, he's a cast-iron man. Say, you
haven't a photograph of old Scrag that you can lend me, have you?"

"I have; but I won't lend it for such a purpose. However, never mind
the principal. Tell me your plans. I am at your disposal for a couple
of weeks, or longer if necessary."

"Good boy! Well, I'll tell you how it is. I want rest and quiet, and
the woods, for a week or two. This is how it happened: I have been
steadily at the grindstone, except for a while in the hospital; and
that, you will admit, is not much of a vacation. The work interests me,
and I am always in the thick of it. Now, it's like this in the
newspaper business: Your chief is never the person to suggest that you
take a vacation. He is usually short of men and long on things to do,
so if you don't worry him into letting you off, he won't lose any sleep
over it. He's content to let well enough alone every time. Then there
is always somebody who wants to get away on pressing business,--
grandmother's funeral, and that sort of thing,--so if a fellow is
content to work right along, his chief is quite content to let him.
That's the way affairs have gone for years with me. The other week I
went over to Washington to interview a senator on the political