Love, and Be Wise [pp. 274]

APPLETONS' JO URNAL.
"The whole- Oh, I see! You mean it is all
redolent of antiquity. Found in a chest, I hope, as
I suggested, with a few words of introduction to explain the circumstance.-Good; and stated, I perceive, with great frankness and simplicity. You find
it easy to be frank, Mr. Derwent, I dare say?"
"My nature, Mr. Sanders," observed Jeff, indifferently.
"Yes. Now, what astonishes me in your writing is its objectiveness."
"Ah! that astonishes myself," said Jeff, with a
little yawn.
There was a long pause.
"Why, bless my soul," said the editor, whose
face was now invisible behind the manuscript, "this
is a satire!"
"I should rather think it was," replied Jeff,
"and a deucedly good satire, too."
"Eh? "-Mr. Sanders looked over the top of the
manuscript at Jeff; the young gentleman's face was
imperturbable; he was tapping his right boot with
his umbrella. "This is most extraordinary," murmured the editor.
"That is quite my idea of it," observed the other. "I never wrote anything half so good before."
"I was not referring to the manuscript," rejoined Mr. Sanders, blandly; "that is good, no
doubt-in its way. But satires are scarcely quite
the sort of thing for the Smzellfungus Magazine."
"I didn't mean it for the Smellfunzgus," cried
Jeff.
"Eh? what?"
The editor looked up again, but Jeff was only
tapping his other boot.
"This is not for you. This is to go to some magazine that pays.-Pray, don't be angry, my dear sir;
I am aware that your magazine is solvent-I mean
that it pays its proprietor."
"Now, this is hard," said Mr. Sanders, looking
at his book-shelves for sympathy; "for it was I who
brought this young man out-correct me, if I am
mistaken, Mr. Derwent, but I think I was the first
-as editor of the Smellfungus Magazine-"
"And proprietor," interrupted Jeff. "That is
where the shoe pinches. The literary side of your
character is perfection; it is the financial side which
is in fault. I have never seen the color of your
money."
"So young," murmured Mr. Sanders, "and yet
so grasping; this is quite a revelation to me."
"Very good," said Jeff; "I shall make no extra
charge on that account; but I must have twenty
pounds for the story."
LOVE, AND BE
N OT on the word alone
Let love depend;
Neither by actions done
Choose ye the friend.
Let the slow years fly These are the test;
Never to peering eye
Opened the breast.
Psyche won hopeless woe,
Reaching to take;
Wait till your lilies grow
Up from the lake.
"Youth is sanguine," observed Mr. Sanders;
"and likewise full of high spirits. You must be
joking."
But Jeff only looked in the fire, and repeated,
"Twenty pounds."
"Well, I'll tell you what," said Mr. Sanders,
clapping his knee, like a man who has resolved to
do something regardless of expense-" I'll tell you
what. In consideration of the two papers I have
had for nothing, added to the cost of this story-for
there must be no doubt for the future about the market value of such articles -I will give you five
pounds. But it must be understood that you give
the Smellfungus the refusal of your next work, and
at the same proportionate price."
"I'll take the five pounds," said Jeff, after a
little pause, "on account. Or, look here: pay me
ten pounds down, and you shall have the story."
The deft celerity with which Mr. Sanders produced his check-book, filled in a check, and also a
receipt upon stamped paper, was quite pleasant to
see.
"Short accounts make long friends," said he,
cheerfully. "And now, my dear sir, that business
is over, let me congratulate you on having permanently joined the staff of the Srnellfungus. I see
before you a great-or at least a considerable future. You have the art-a very rare one-of making dry details palatable; of putting fire into oldworld facts. All you want are materials. You
must come and dwell in the shadow of the British
Museum."
"I live at Islington," observed Jeff, simply.
"Then you must come by the'bus to Bloomsbury. The British Museum has been bequeathed to
you by the nation to furnish you with facts for the
Smellfungus Magazine."
"Very good," said Jeff. "I will accept the
legacy."
"It is wonderful to me how-out at Islingtonyou can have procured such materials as you have
done. However, the whole affair is remarkable;
that at your time of life your taste should lead you
to grasp these details of the past-"
"So young, so grasping," interrupted Jeff.
"Well, I must be off now. Ta-ta."
"Good-by, my young friend, good-by," said Mr.
Sanders, impressively. Then softly repeated to
himself: "Ta-ta. He said Ta-ta. That lad is a
phenomenon. Antiquarianism is a passion with
him, and yet how he talks! I wonder whether
Chatterton talked like that? He reminds me very
much of Chatterton-in some respects."
WISE.
Gather words patiently,
Harvest the deed;
Let the winged years fly,
Sifting the seed.
Judge ye by harmony,
Judge ye by strife;
Seeking in unity
Precept and life.
Seize the Supernal Prometheus dies;
Take the External
On trust-and be wise.
JOHN BOYLE O'REILLY.
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