t it did not trouble him. He only whistled and sang street
songs at it. As for Peter, he was too busy to need blank walls. He had
fought two great opponents. The world and himself. He had conquered them
both.

CHAPTER XXXIII.

A RENEWAL.

If the American people had anglicized themselves as thoroughly into
liking three-volume stories, as they have in other things, it would be a
pleasure to trace the next ten years of Peter's life; for his growing
reputation makes this period a far easier matter to chronicle than the
more obscure beginnings already recorded. If his own life did not supply
enough material we could multiply our characters, as did Dickens, or
journey sideways, into little essays, as did Thackeray. His life and his
biographer's pen might fail to give interest to such devices, but the
plea is now for "realism," which most writers take to mean microscopical
examination of minutia. If the physical and psychical emotions of a
heroine as she drinks a glass of water can properly be elaborated so as
to fill two printed pages, Peter's life could be extended endlessly.
There were big cases, political fights, globe trottings, and new
friends, all of which have unlimited potentialities for numerous
chapters. But Americans are peculiar people, and do not buy a pound of
sugar any the quicker because its bulk has been raised by a skilful
admixture of moisture and sand. So it seems best partly to take the
advice of the Bellman, in the "Hunting of the Snark," to skip sundry
years. In resuming, it is to find Peter at his desk, reading a letter.
He has a very curious look on his face, due to the letter, the contents
of which are as follows:

MARCH 22.

DEAR OLD CHUM--

Here is the wretched old sixpence, just as bad as ever--if not
worse--come back after all these years.

And as of yore, the sixpence is in a dreadful pickle, and appeals
to the old chum, who always used to pull him out of his scrapes,
to do it once more. Please come and see me as quickly as possible,
for every moment is important. You see I feel sure that I do not
appeal in vain. "Changeless as the pyramids" ought to be your
motto.

Helen and our dear little girl will be delighted to see you, as
will

Yours affectionately,

WATTS.

Peter opened a drawer and put the letter into it. Then he examined his
diary calendar. After this he went to a door, and, opening it, said:

"I am going