On this
he insisted on having his MS. returned to him.
Sometimes his articles were actually published, and he found the
editor had edited them according to his own fancy, putting in jokes
which he thought were funny, or cutting out the very passage which
Ernest had considered the point of the whole thing, and then, though
the articles appeared, when it came to paying for them it was
another matter, and he never saw his money. "Editors," he said to me
one day about this time, "are like the people who bought and sold in
the book of Revelation; there is not one but has the mark of the beast
upon him."
At last after months of disappointment and many a tedious hour
wasted in dingy ante-rooms (and of all ante-rooms those of editors
appear to me to be the dreariest), he got a bona fide offer of
employment from one of the first class weekly papers through an
introduction I was able to get for him from one who had powerful
influence with the paper in question. The editor sent him a dozen long
books upon varied and difficult subjects, and told him to review
them in a single article within a week. In one book there was an
editorial note to the effect that the writer was to be condemned.
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