DOI article:
Noble, James Ashcroft: The phantasies of Philarete
DOI Page / Citation link:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.21806#0205
By James Ashcroft Noble 201
editor to accept his more thoughtful and elaborate literary essays ;
but the newspapers had no vacancy, and the magazine editors all
wanted short Stories—the one literary commodity which he found
himself unable to supply. In spite, therefore, of what he ad-
mitted to be his wonderful good luck, there were seasons when
Errington feit somewhat anxious and depressed.
He was feeling so one day, when he entered Mr. Mackenzie’s
room, seeking what he might devour. For two months the
cheques had been of the smallest ; and before very long there
would be a new and expensive arrival in the house at Shepherd’s
Bush—a conjunction which roused the timid man to unwonted
persistence of appeal.
“ I’m afraid there’s nothing,” said Mackenzie ; “ the publishers
are keeping everything back until this dynamite excitement is
over, and upon my word I am glad they are, for it fills the paper.
This is really the only thing I have in hand that is in your line,
and it has been here for nearly a month.” As he spoke the
editor took down a daintily attired book from a shelf behind him, and
continued : “ I didn’t intend to notice it. I think West is a con-
ceited ass who needs snubbing ; but as you want something you
can take it, and of course treat it on its merits. But you must
keep within a column, and if you only send half, so much the
better.”
John Errington left Mr. Mackenzie’s room with a lighter
heart than that which he had taken there, for though the
honorarium represented by a column of copy was not much in
itself, it was just then a good deal to him. He was specially
grateful to his chief for Stretching a point in his favour, for he
was inclined to agree with his opinion that The Phantasies of
Philarete was likely to prove poor stuff. Düring the weeks in
which it had been lying on Mr. Mackenzie’s shelf, Errington had
read
editor to accept his more thoughtful and elaborate literary essays ;
but the newspapers had no vacancy, and the magazine editors all
wanted short Stories—the one literary commodity which he found
himself unable to supply. In spite, therefore, of what he ad-
mitted to be his wonderful good luck, there were seasons when
Errington feit somewhat anxious and depressed.
He was feeling so one day, when he entered Mr. Mackenzie’s
room, seeking what he might devour. For two months the
cheques had been of the smallest ; and before very long there
would be a new and expensive arrival in the house at Shepherd’s
Bush—a conjunction which roused the timid man to unwonted
persistence of appeal.
“ I’m afraid there’s nothing,” said Mackenzie ; “ the publishers
are keeping everything back until this dynamite excitement is
over, and upon my word I am glad they are, for it fills the paper.
This is really the only thing I have in hand that is in your line,
and it has been here for nearly a month.” As he spoke the
editor took down a daintily attired book from a shelf behind him, and
continued : “ I didn’t intend to notice it. I think West is a con-
ceited ass who needs snubbing ; but as you want something you
can take it, and of course treat it on its merits. But you must
keep within a column, and if you only send half, so much the
better.”
John Errington left Mr. Mackenzie’s room with a lighter
heart than that which he had taken there, for though the
honorarium represented by a column of copy was not much in
itself, it was just then a good deal to him. He was specially
grateful to his chief for Stretching a point in his favour, for he
was inclined to agree with his opinion that The Phantasies of
Philarete was likely to prove poor stuff. Düring the weeks in
which it had been lying on Mr. Mackenzie’s shelf, Errington had
read