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Bacheller, Irving, 1859-1950

"Eben Holden, a tale of the north country"

'
'He was an almighty good rassler,' he said, deliberately, as he
looked again at the letter.'
'What do you want to do?' he asked abruptly.'
'Want to work on the Tribune,' I answered.'
'Good Lord! he said. 'I can't hire everybody.'
I tried to think of some argument, but what with looking at the
great man before me, and answering his questions and maintaining
a decent show of dignity, I had enough to do.
'Do you read the Tribune? he asked.'
'Read it ever since I can remember.'
'What do you think of the administration?
'Lot of dough faces! I answered, smiling, as I saw he recognised
his own phrase. He sat a moment tapping the desk with his
penholder.'
'There's so many liars here in New York,' he said, 'there ought to
be room for an honest man. How are the crops?'
'Fair, I answered. 'Big crop of boys every year.'
'And now you're trying to find a market, he remarked.'
'Want to have you try them,' I answered.
'Well,' said he, very seriously, turning to his desk that came up to
his chin as he sat beside it, 'go and write me an article about rats.


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