ng on the style of genius
Person talks about taking lessons, as if they could learn it
Say when he is gone that the woman gets along better without him
Shouldn't ca' fo' the disgrace of bein' poo'--its inconvenience
Timidity of the elder in the presence of the younger man

PART THIRD

I.

The scheme of a banquet to celebrate the initial success of 'Every
Other Week' expanded in Fulkerson's fancy into a series. Instead of the
publishing and editorial force, with certain of the more representative
artists and authors sitting down to a modest supper in Mrs. Leighton's
parlors, he conceived of a dinner at Delmonico's, with the principal
literary and artistic, people throughout the country as guests, and an
inexhaustible hospitality to reporters and correspondents, from whom
paragraphs, prophetic and historic, would flow weeks before and after
the first of the series. He said the thing was a new departure in
magazines; it amounted to something in literature as radical as the
American Revolution in politics: it was the idea of self government in
the arts; and it was this idea that had never yet been fully developed
in regard to it. That was what must be done in the speeches at the
dinner, and the speeches must be reported. Then it would go like
wildfire. He asked March whether he thought Mr. Depew could be got to
come; Mark Twain, he was sure, would come; he was a literary man. They
ought to invite Mr. Evarts, and the Cardinal and the leading Protestant
divines. His ambition stopped at nothing, nothing but the question of
expense; there he had to wait the return of the elder Dryfoos from the
West, and Dryfoos was still delayed at Moffitt, and Fulkerson openly
confessed that he was afraid he would stay there till his own enthusiasm
escaped in other activities, other plans.

Fulkerson was as little likely as possible to fall under a superstitious
subjection to another man; but March could not help seeing that in this
possible measure Dryfoos was Fulkerson's fetish. He did not revere
him, March decided, because it was not in Fulkerson's nature to
revere anything; he could like and dislike, but he could not respect.
Apparently, however, Dryfoos daunted him somehow; and besides the homage
which those who have not pay to those who have, Fulkerson rendered
Dryfoos the tribute of a feeling which March could only define as a
sort of bewilderment. As well as March could make out, this feeling was
evoked