FullReads

But I suspected Van Sweller’s design; and when we lost sight of his cab I ordered my driver to proceed at once to —-.* [* See advertising column, “Where to Dine Well,” in the daily newspapers.]

I found Van Sweller at a table under a palm, just glancing over the menu, with a hopeful waiter hovering at his elbow.

“Come with me,” I said, inexorably. “You will not give me the slip again. Under my eye you shall remain until 11:30.”

Van Sweller countermanded the order for his dinner, and arose to accompany me. He could scarcely do less. A fictitious character is but poorly equipped for resisting a hungry but live author who comes to drag him forth from a restaurant. All he said was: “You were just in time; but I think you are making a mistake. You cannot afford to ignore the wishes of the great reading public.”

I took Van Sweller to my own rooms–to my room. He had never seen anything like it before.

“Sit on that trunk,” I said to him, “while I observe whether the landlady is stalking us. If she is not, I will get things at a delicatessen store below, and cook something for you in a pan over the gas jet. It will not be so bad. Of course nothing of this will appear in the story.”

“Jove! old man!” said Van Sweller, looking about him with interest, “this is a jolly little closet you live in! Where the devil do you sleep?–Oh, that pulls down! And I say–what is this under the corner of the carpet?–Oh, a frying pan! I see–clever idea! Fancy cooking over the gas! What larks it will be!”

“Think of anything you could eat?” I asked; “try a chop, or what?”

“Anything,” said Van Sweller, enthusiastically, “except a grilled bone.”

Two weeks afterward the postman brought me a large, fat envelope. I opened it, and took out something that I had seen before, and this typewritten letter from a magazine that encourages society fiction:

Your short story, “The Badge of Policeman O’Roon,” is herewith
returned.

We are sorry that it has been unfavorably passed upon; but it
seems to lack in some of the essential requirements of our
publication.

The story is splendidly constructed; its style is strong and
inimitable, and its action and character-drawing deserve the
highest praise. As a story per se it has merit beyond anything
that we have read for some time. But, as we have said, it fails
to come up to some of the standards we have set.

Could you not re-write the story, and inject into it the social
atmosphere, and return it to us for further consideration? It is
suggested to you that you have the hero, Van Sweller, drop in for
luncheon or dinner once or twice at —-* or at the —-*
[* See advertising column, “Where to Dine Well,” in the daily
newspapers.] which will be in line with the changes desired.
Very truly yours,
THE EDITORS.