"The Hearthstone," he will say, "does not employ a staff of readers. We obtain opinions of the manuscripts submitted to us directly from types of the various classes of our readers."
That is the editor's theory; and this is the way he carries it out:
When a batch2 of MSS. is received the editor stuffs every one of his pockets full of them and distributes them as he goes about during the day. The office employees, the hall porter, the janitor3, the elevator man, messenger boys, the waiters at the café where the editor has luncheon4, the man at the news-stand where he buys his evening paper, the grocer and milkman, the guard on the 5.30 uptown elevated train, the ticket-chopper at Sixty ––––th street, the cook and maid at his home—these are the readers who pass upon MSS. sent in to the Hearthstone Magazine. If his pockets are not entirely5 emptied by the time he reaches the bosom6 of his family the remaining ones are handed over to his wife to read after the baby goes to sleep. A few days later the editor gathers in the MSS. during his regular rounds and considers the verdict of his assorted7 readers.
This system of making up a magazine has been very successful; and the circulation, paced by the advertising8 rates, is making a wonderful record of speed.
The Hearthstone Company also publishes books, and its imprint9 is to be found on several successful works—all recommended, says the editor, by the Hearthstone's army of volunteer readers. Now and then (according to talkative members of the editorial staff) the Hearthstone has allowed manuscripts to slip through its fingers on the advice of its heterogeneous10 readers, that afterward11 proved to be famous sellers when brought out by other houses.
For instance (the gossips say), "The Rise and Fall of Silas Latham" was unfavourably passed upon by the elevator-man; the office-boy unanimously rejected "The Boss"; "In the Bishop's Carriage" was contemptuously looked upon by the street-car conductor; "The Deliverance" was turned down by a clerk in the subscription12 department whose wife's mother had just begun a two-months' visit at his home; "The Queen's Quair" came back from the janitor with the comment: "So is the book."
But nevertheless the Hearthstone adheres to its theory and system, and it will never lack volunteer readers; for each one of the widely scattered13 staff, from the young lady stenographer14 in the editorial office to the man who shovels15 in coal (whose adverse16 decision lost to the Hearthstone Company the manuscript of "The Under World"), has expectations of becoming editor of the magazine some day.
This method of the Hearthstone was well known to Allen Slayton when he wrote his novelette entitled "Love Is All." Slayton had hung about the editorial offices of all the magazines so persistently17 that he was acquainted with the inner workings of every one in Gotham.
He knew not only that the editor of the Hearthstone handed his MSS. around among different types of people for reading, but that the stories of sentimental18 love-interest went to Miss Puffkin, the editor's stenographer. Another of the editor's peculiar19 customs was to conceal20 invariably the name of the writer from his readers of MSS. so that a glittering name might not influence the sincerity21 of their reports.
Slayton made "Love Is All" the effort of his life. He gave it six months of the best work of his heart and brain. It was a pure love-story, fine, elevated, romantic, passionate—a prose poem that set the divine blessing22 of love (I am transposing from the manuscript) high above all earthly gifts and honours, and listed it in the catalogue of heaven's choicest rewards. Slayton's literary ambition was intense. He would have sacrificed all other worldly possessions to have gained fame in his chosen art. He would almost have cut off his right hand, or have offered himself to the knife of the appendicitis23 fancier to have realized his dream of seeing one of his efforts published in the Hearthstone.
Slayton finished "Love Is All," and took it to the Hearthstone in person. The office of the magazine was in a large, conglomerate24 building, presided under by a janitor.
As the writer stepped inside the door on his way to the elevator a potato masher flew through the hall, wrecking25 Slayton's hat, and smashing the glass of the door. Closely following in the wake of the utensil26 flew the janitor, a bulky, unwholesome man, suspenderless and sordid27, panic-stricken and breathless. A frowsy, fat woman with flying hair followed the missile. The janitor's foot slipped on the tiled floor, he fell in a heap with an exclamation28 of despair. The woman pounced29 upon him and seized his hair. The man bellowed30 lustily.
Her vengeance31 wreaked32, the virago33 rose and stalked triumphant34 as Minerva, back to some cryptic35 domestic retreat at the rear. The janitor got to his feet, blown and humiliated36.
"This is married life," he said to Slayton, with a certain bruised37 humour. "That's the girl I used to lay awake of nights thinking about. Sorry about your hat, mister. Say, don't snitch to the tenants38 about this, will yer? I don't want to lose me job."
Slayton took the elevator at the end of the hall and went up to the offices of the Hearthstone. He left the MS. of "Love Is All" with the editor, who agreed to give him an answer as to its availability at the end of a week.
Slayton formulated39 his great winning scheme on his way down. It struck him with one brilliant flash, and he could not refrain from admiring his own genius in conceiving the idea. That very night he set about carrying it into execution.
Miss Puffkin, the Hearthstone stenographer, boarded in the same house with the author. She was an oldish, thin, exclusive, languishing40, sentimental maid; and Slayton had been introduced to her some time before.
The writer's daring and self-sacrificing project was this: He knew that the editor of the Hearthstone relied strongly upon Miss Puffkin's judgment41 in the manuscript of romantic and sentimental fiction. Her taste represented the immense average of mediocre42 women who devour43 novels and stories of that type. The central idea and keynote of "Love Is All" was love at first sight—the enrapturing44,
irresistible45, soul-thrilling feeling that compels a man or a woman to recognize his or her spirit-mate as soon as heart speaks to heart. Suppose he should impress this divine truth upon Miss Puffkin personally!—would she not surely indorse her new and rapturous sensations by recommending highly to the editor of the Hearthstone the novelette "Love Is All"?
Slayton thought so. And that night he took Miss Puffkin to the theatre. The next night he made vehement46 love to her in the dim parlour of the boarding-house. He quoted freely from "Love Is All"; and he wound up with Miss Puffkin's head on his shoulder, and visions of literary fame dancing in his head.
But Slayton did not stop at love-making. This, he said to himself, was the turning point of his life; and, like a true sportsman, he "went the limit." On Thursday night he and Miss Puffkin walked over to the Big Church in the Middle of the Block and were married.
Brave Slayton! Châteaubriand died in a garret, Byron courted a widow, Keats starved to death, Poe mixed his drinks, De Quincey hit the pipe, Ade lived in Chicago, James kept on doing it, Dickens wore white socks, De Maupassant wore a strait-jacket, Tom Watson became a Populist, Jeremiah wept, all these authors did these things for the sake of literature, but thou didst cap them all; thou marriedst a wife for to carve for thyself a niche47 in the temple of fame!
On Friday morning Mrs. Slayton said she would go over to the Hearthstone office, hand in one or two manuscripts that the editor had given to her to read, and resign her position as stenographer.
"Was there anything—er—that—er—you particularly fancied in the stories you are going to turn in?" asked Slayton with a thumping48 heart.
"There was one—a novelette, that I liked so much," said his wife. "I haven't read anything in years that I thought was half as nice and true to life."
That afternoon Slayton hurried down to the Hearthstone office. He felt that his reward was close at hand. With a novelette in the Hearthstone, literary reputation would soon be his.
The office boy met him at the railing in the outer office. It was not for unsuccessful authors to hold personal colloquy49 with the editor except at rare intervals50.
Slayton, hugging himself internally, was nursing in his heart the exquisite51 hope of being able to crush the office boy with his forthcoming success.
He inquired concerning his novelette. The office boy went into the sacred precincts and brought forth52 a large envelope, thick with more than the bulk of a thousand checks.
"The boss told me to tell you he's sorry," said the boy, "but your manuscript ain't available for the magazine."
Slayton stood, dazed. "Can you tell me," he stammered53, "whether or no Miss Puff—that is my—I mean Miss Puffkin—handed in a novelette this morning that she had been asked to read?"
"Sure she did," answered the office boy wisely. "I heard the old man say that Miss Puffkin said it was a daisy. The name of it was, 'Married for the Mazuma, or a Working Girl's Triumph.'"
"Say, you!" said the office boy confidentially54, "your name's Slayton, ain't it? I guess I mixed cases on you without meanin' to do it. The boss give me some manuscript to hand around the other day and I got the ones for Miss Puffkin and the janitor mixed. I guess it's all right, though."
And then Slayton looked closer and saw on the cover of his manuscript, under the title "Love Is All," the janitor's comment scribbled55 with a piece of charcoal56:
"The –––– you say!"
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1
expound
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| v.详述；解释；阐述 | |
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batch
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| n.一批(组，群)；一批生产量 | |
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janitor
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| n.看门人，管门人 | |
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luncheon
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| n.午宴，午餐，便宴 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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assorted
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| adj.各种各样的，各色俱备的 | |
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advertising
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| n.广告业；广告活动 a.广告的；广告业务的 | |
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imprint
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| n.印痕，痕迹；深刻的印象；vt.压印，牢记 | |
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heterogeneous
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| adj.庞杂的；异类的 | |
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afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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subscription
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| n.预订，预订费，亲笔签名，调配法，下标（处方） | |
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scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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stenographer
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| n.速记员 | |
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shovels
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| n.铲子( shovel的名词复数 )；锹；推土机、挖土机等的)铲；铲形部份v.铲子( shovel的第三人称单数 )；锹；推土机、挖土机等的)铲；铲形部份 | |
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adverse
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| adj.不利的；有害的；敌对的，不友好的 | |
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persistently
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| ad.坚持地；固执地 | |
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sentimental
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| adj.多愁善感的，感伤的 | |
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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conceal
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
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sincerity
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| n.真诚，诚意；真实 | |
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blessing
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| n.祈神赐福；祷告；祝福，祝愿 | |
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appendicitis
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| n.阑尾炎，盲肠炎 | |
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conglomerate
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| n.综合商社，多元化集团公司 | |
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wrecking
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| 破坏 | |
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utensil
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| n.器皿，用具 | |
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sordid
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| adj.肮脏的，不干净的，卑鄙的，暗淡的 | |
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exclamation
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| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
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29
pounced
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| v.突然袭击( pounce的过去式和过去分词 )；猛扑；一眼看出；抓住机会（进行抨击） | |
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bellowed
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| v.发出吼叫声，咆哮（尤指因痛苦）( bellow的过去式和过去分词 )；（愤怒地）说出（某事），大叫 | |
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vengeance
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| n.报复，报仇，复仇 | |
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32
wreaked
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| 诉诸（武力），施行（暴力），发（脾气）( wreak的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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virago
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| n.悍妇 | |
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triumphant
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| adj.胜利的，成功的；狂欢的，喜悦的 | |
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cryptic
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| adj.秘密的，神秘的，含义模糊的 | |
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humiliated
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| 感到羞愧的 | |
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bruised
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| [医]青肿的，瘀紫的 | |
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tenants
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| n.房客( tenant的名词复数 )；佃户；占用者；占有者 | |
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formulated
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| v.构想出( formulate的过去式和过去分词 )；规划；确切地阐述；用公式表示 | |
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languishing
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| a. 衰弱下去的 | |
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judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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mediocre
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| adj.平常的，普通的 | |
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devour
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| v.吞没；贪婪地注视或谛听，贪读；使着迷 | |
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enrapturing
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| v.使狂喜( enrapture的现在分词 ) | |
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irresistible
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| adj.非常诱人的，无法拒绝的，无法抗拒的 | |
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vehement
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| adj.感情强烈的；热烈的；(人)有强烈感情的 | |
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niche
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| n.壁龛；合适的职务(环境、位置等) | |
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48
thumping
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| adj.重大的，巨大的；重击的；尺码大的；极好的adv.极端地；非常地v.重击(thump的现在分词)；狠打；怦怦地跳；全力支持 | |
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49
colloquy
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| n.谈话，自由讨论 | |
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50
intervals
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| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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51
exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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52
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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53
stammered
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| v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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54
confidentially
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| ad.秘密地，悄悄地 | |
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55
scribbled
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| v.潦草的书写( scribble的过去式和过去分词 )；乱画；草草地写；匆匆记下 | |
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56
charcoal
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| n.炭，木炭，生物炭 | |
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