not occurred to me.
During that morning I began to fancy that the very bell-boys were
suspicious, and might be contemplating the desirability of laying a
complaint against me for not earning my princely salary.

However, at a few minutes after three o'clock, I was escorted by the
head messenger--who had rather the air of a seneschal or chamberlain--to
the editorial apartment, where I found Arncliffe giving audience to
his news editor, Mr. Pink, and one of his leader-writers, a very old
_Advocate_ identity, Mr. Samuel Harbottle---a white-whiskered and
rubicund gentleman, who was entitled to use most of the letters of the
alphabet after his name should he so choose. I was presented to both
these gentlemen, and in a few minutes they took their departure.

'Poor old Harbottle!' said Arncliffe, when the door had closed behind
the leader-writer. 'An able man, mind you, in his prehistoric way;
but-- Well, he can hardly expect to live our pace, you know. He has
had a very fair innings. Still, we must move gradually. The change has
to be made, but we don't want to upset these patriarchs more than is
absolutely necessary. Have a cigar? Sure? Well, I dare say you're
right. I'll have a cigarette. Sorry I couldn't see you yesterday. Now
I'll tell you what I want you to tackle for me, first of all:
Correspondence.'

For a moment I had a vision of almost forgotten days in Sussex Street,
Sydney: 'Dear Mr. Gubbins,--With regard to your last consignment of
butter,' etc.

'The correspondence of this paper has been disgracefully neglected.
And, mind you, that's a serious mistake. Nothing people like better
than seeing their names in the paper. They make their relatives read
it, and for each time you print their rubbish, they'll be content to
scan your every column for a fortnight. I mean to do it properly.
We'll give two or three columns a day to our Letters to the Editor.
But, the point is, they must be handled intelligently, both with
regard to which letters should be used and which should not; and also
in the matter of condensation. We can't let 'em ramble indefinitely,
or they'd fill the paper. Now that's what I want you to tackle for me
for a start. I can't possibly get time to wade through them myself;
but if you once get the thing licked into proper shape, it will make a
good permanent feature, and--er--you will gradually drop into other
things, you know.'

'Yes. I've made notes of a few suggestions,' I began.

'Quite so. T