old, and in the telling there was everything that his ignorance
had so carefully prevented from escaping into the written word. I looked
at him, and wondering whether it were possible, that he did not know the
originality, the power of the notion that had come in his way? It was
distinctly a Notion among notions. Men had been puffed up with pride by
notions not a tithe as excellent and practicable. But Charlie babbled
on serenely, interrupting the current of pure fancy with samples of
horrible sentences that he purposed to use. I heard him out to the end.
It would be folly to allow his idea to remain in his own inept hands,
when I could do so much with it. Not all that could be done indeed; but,
oh so much!

"What do you think?" he said, at last. "I fancy I shall call it 'The
Story of a Ship.'"

"I think the idea's pretty good; but you won't be able to handle it for
ever so long. Now I----"

"Would it be of any use to you? Would you care to take it? I should be
proud," said Charlie, promptly.

There are few things sweeter in this world than the guileless,
hot-headed, intemperate, open admiration of a junior. Even a woman in
her blindest devotion does not fall into the gait of the man she adores,
tilt her bonnet to the angle at which he wears his hat, or interlard her
speech with his pet oaths. And Charlie did all these things. Still
it was necessary to salve my conscience before I possessed myself of
Charlie's thoughts.

"Let's make a bargain. I'll give you a fiver for the notion," I said.
Charlie became a bank-clerk at once.

"Oh, that's impossible. Between two pals, you know, if I may call you
so, and speaking as a man of the world, I couldn't. Take the notion if
it's any use to you. I've heaps more."

He had--none knew this better than I--but they were the notions of other
men.

"Look at it as a matter of business-between men of the world," I
returned. "Five pounds will buy you any number of poetry-books. Business
is business, and you may be sure I shouldn't give that price unless----"

"Oh, if you put it _that_ way," said Charlie, visibly moved by the
thought of the books. The bargain was clinched with an agreement that
he should at unstated intervals come to me with all the notions that he
possessed, should have a table of his own to write at, and unquestioned
right to inflict upon me all his poems and fragments of poems. Then I
said, "Now tell me how you came by this idea."

"It came by itself." Charl